Turns out, the mix turns messy in a bowl of Rainbow Beets. The beets are perfect, but the offensively overbearing coat of capriole goat cheese is concussed by an over-generous allotment of acrid vinaigrette, a painful punch in the mouth.
The Bistecca alla Fiorentina is the most beautiful steak I've ever seen. Thick strips sliced off the bone shines meaty red against a backdrop of hammered copper, bathing in a glistening golden olive oil pool. The meat itself was juicy, cold in the raw red core...and on the outside...and actually cold everywhere, drenched in frigid olive oil. And the thickness was incorrect by half. Sea salt was sprinkled table side, but I stole the saltshaker and emptied it by half before I could perceive the steak.
The Vanilla Brioche Bread Pudding is another pretty dish, but far less disastrous. The soft, airy chunks of sweetness and air snuggle under a soft caramel touch.
There was so much wrong with what I had at Zazou that night, but as a fixture in the Redondo Riviera, they must be doing something right. Unfortuantely, whatever they're doing right, they weren't doing it that night.
God, I really wanted to like Zazou. Their concept is clear and the theory is there, but the execution is butchered despite the pretty plating. At the butchering prices they charge, those premium ingredients better be made prime and they weren't. Still, I'm told that several of their other entrees are exceptional so maybe I'll give them another try in a few months.
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