Oh I just don't get it. LA has never been known for fine dining, but would it kill them to actually try? I get that the LA scene is too cool to care, but why do the fussy food if you don't want to fuss?
Coming off a rave review from the LA Times, Camelia tops my list of pricey places to peruse.
I made a reservation for 5:30 on a Sunday night, an early bird hour for two friends with kids, and it was immediately clear that the experience wasn't going to be part of the package. The decor was as expected for LA; naked tables, simple settings. The problem was that we were seated at one end of a series of 3 two-tops that were literally only two inches apart. Not bad for the people on the two ends, but a couple was later led to our almost-adjoining table and mercifully declined to sit - I suspect they did not wish to have 4 others join them on their date. The restaurant isn't roomy, but it's not so tight I can't take off my jacket without punching someone in the face. Would even 4-6 inches between tables be too much to ask?
We opt for the tasting menu, a nightly tour of Camelia's greatest hits in smaller portions.
Bluefin Tuna Toast is beautiful. Meaty, marbled marvels slide like silk, enveloped by fragrant shiso offset with a whiff of wasabi.
Chicken Liver Mousse Toast is a classic, a creamy billow of bile, fat against a sweet persimmon mostarda, lightened by a slice of daikon. East meets west for fusion at its finest.
The salad boasts these beautiful leaves of pink radicchio, the bitterness of which a bit of vinegar mollifies. They are an enchanting contrast to a bed of creamy burrata and soft kabocha agebitashi, flavors that boldly contrast yet seamlessly float together.
Hokkaido Uni Pasta. My three favorite words in the whole world. This statement is true...but only in the most literal sense. The only uni is on top, a creamy half-nibble, with a careless twirl of spaghetti so undercooked it couldn't cling to any of the "uni butter", which is so subtle it isn't there.
I think they were going for understated but they forgot the “der”. The uni remained unstated except for the little bit at the top, though the pasta was notably unDERcooked.
This Grilled Loup de Mer is a most perfect specimen. Crispy skin, tender white flesh, a ginger ponzu just assertive enough to brighten a naturally neutral fish, and bok choy because...bok choy is Asian. The stems are not the most appealing. No flavor there so eat with big bites of sauce.
If I could choose only one thing from my few and far between fine dining experiences it would be a perfect Steak. And this is the night they decide to serve a real New York strip. The steak is exquisite but the plating, just what the actual...
A runaway onion ring settles in a spiral like a dropped bottle cap as the runner lowers my steak at an awkward angle of at least 50 degrees. My onion rings give some side eye as the swish of sauce smiles back. The steak is so perfectly done, but I feel like I'm eating someone's nose.
Also, the tempura onion rings taste like butter. That's how you know it's French - even the tempura tastes like butter.
Here is my friend's plate, in case you are wondering how the steak is supposed to look.
I expect dessert to be a throwaway, but this Tart will be among the best I'll have this year. The citrus asserts in a tangy yuzu custard, and it snaps against the sugar while contrasting the bold and bitter strip of matcha, which is just thick enough to make this tart exceptional.
Service is just enough so you don't yearn for privacy but feel like you can have all the help you need. It's impersonal but professional, though it's pretty clear no one cares about their plating tonight. I don't know about this place. Maybe I should have tried the more unusual dishes on their menu or maybe I should have gone back to Bestia. Either way, I'll be staying in the South Bay when I want some real uni pasta. I'll at least get a proper plate at Spoon House.
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