Vespertine - Culver City

Down the street from Destroyer, the same chef staked his claim to fame. He built a spacious 3-story architectural marvel and called it Vespertine.

The intent was offer a multi-sensory experience, the likes of which LA had never seen, a dinner that literally transports you to different places for what is undoubtedly the most expensive meal in LA. 

The first issue I had with Vespertine was the name. They got it backwards -This is the one that should have been named Destroyer; Destroyer of savings amounts, Destroyer of wallets. It’s not the avocado toast, it’s “experiences” like this.

Our “experience” begins in a quiet outside garden. Intimate, dimly lit benches, heated from within. We start with a drink of our choice as we wait to be ushered in. The Birch Juice makes an interesting choice, a clear liquid that resembles watered down simple syrup. 

Upstairs to the top floor, where you sink deep into cushioned couches to a warm Spruce Needle Tea, full of piney promise.

There’s a cocktail of wine infused with coastal redwood. Mine is subbed with grape juice. It’s on the sweeter side due to the juice, and I appreciate the woodsy taste as we gaze upon the antler branches that adorn the table.

A clever transition as the present an emulsion of fermented chickpeas with a bright dash of yuzu. The  branches are draped with giant kelp and sea lettuce for immersing. The sea lettuce is oily and tough to chew, but the kelp finishes like a roasted cracker. I could have used more of the kelp.

Next is a Savory Cookie, a flower garden of crunch in a bed of currant and sweet potato. (Note: photo borrowed from Katherine’s camera, thanks to the superior quality of night sight.)

The cookie course has an earthy balance, and for it I have no complaints overall, but it does raise a question for me.  You see, my friend is allergic to nuts. They handled the allergy by simply making her food without the nuts. This is obviously appropriate, but when half the dishes are made with nuts and no other adjustments are made, it makes me wonder if the nuts were all that necessary, and in food this caliber, I wonder how each ingredient doesn’t hold equal weight. 

I like this. A cigar of fermented milk bread wrapped in black garlic leather with petals of king trumpet mushrooms. It resembles a sweeter, slightly denser garlic knot but so much better. (Another of Katherine’s photos.)

The comfy couches fade away as we’re guided downstairs into the dining room. Here, under harsh lights, we feel like the unwitting entertainment at an involuntary dinner show. Our seat at the 4-top in the center of the room leaves us completely exposed, and every cozy 2-top half-booth encircles the center tables so every diner faces us. Parties of four rarely need as much privacy, but I’m not sure the entire room needed to watch me chew.

The Hidden Apple shows up somewhat slowly, Perry petals worth the wait. There are notes of something dark and smoky, wading in tangy sauce made from the core. (Another gorgeous Katherine photo).

The next dish is one of their best. Petals of roasted corgette peel away to reveal a pillow of popping pearls. Kaluga caviar carries a soft, sweet brine through a case of cream.

Buried treasure surfaces as tender slices of Scallop make you pucker in acidic ume under a burnt onion crust.

Caramelized Lobster is another obvious winner, a succulent tail wrapped in red orach leaves. I like the concept but I also wouldn’t have minded if they cut back on the acid to let the sweeter lobster some through.

A pumpkin with a dash of whipped guava arrives as a palate cleanser of sorts. It’s sweet and it’s a pleasure, but not one I really remember.

A mossy cave conceals poached pieces of perfection, sweet crab that melts in your mouth like butter and cream. I love the upright stone bowls, but it would help if the lighting didn’t make it impossible to see inside.

The Quail is roasted in a coat of juniper, and the carving and unveiling makes a breathtaking video.

The breast itself could use a little more seasoning, and it’s overshadowed by the tangy halo that surrounds it. 

The Quail Leg makes a comeback with a peppery crust of spicy. There’s a black trumpet mushroom tea that tastes like a savory soup for sipping.

Lamb fat renders an overripe plantain a pile of savory goo. Recommended to be eaten on a disc of dry flatbread like a taco. The bread is bland, and you cough up a lung full of green powder if you inhale at an inopportune time. 

Desserts begin with Pear in a disc of caramelized milk jam. I love the bits of parsnip that give this dish some depth, and the presentation is just beautiful. 

The Rhubarb, raspberry combination comes with black carrot in blackberry juice. A little less sweet than the previous, and I could have done without the leaf that was impossible to chew.

The dining-in-front-of-an-audience “experience” ends here. We make a full circle back to the garden where we are given a table of final desserts we cannot see. Mood lighting is important but you literally have to take someone’s word for it. The Caramelized Sunchokes are fantastic when dipped in salted cream. Creamy Dates are amazing, and slices of Pear in a caramel-like sauce slide down easy. A purse of Blackberries seems random, but they’re ripe and delicious so who cares? The Chocolate Cream is the true show-stealer, but they really messed that one up by covering it with a layer of seemingly nonsensical roughage. Lots of pretty plants, but have you ever dipped a salad in chocolate? It didn’t work.

Overall, I enjoyed the “experience”. But I did get tired of hearing about it. Do you think I used the word “experience” excessively in this review? You should. And they used it in every sentence. 

And what was this “experience” anyway? Never ending spa music, perfume sprayed everywhere you go, drinks with outlandish prices, good food that didn’t too often wow brought out at a place that spanned almost four hours. Just because you beat me over the head with the word “experience” doesn’t make it so.

I loved Destroyer. For a fraction of the price you can indulge and gorge in perfectly balanced plates and beautiful bowls. I had hoped for more of the same at Vespertine, but while their “experience” aims to showcase a jack of all trades, I would like to see them master a few trades instead of none.