Animal UPDATE - Los Angeles

This has to be a different Animal. The Animal I went to five years ago wasn't bad, but it wasn't THIS Animal. The stuff I had this time is like a new species. Conceptually brilliant, expertly prepared, execution flawless. It all lingers on the tongue and burns a new memory. It's like the best what-the-f*** moment EVER.

The only thing I even liked the first time was the Chicken Liver Toast, and the creamy, lightly-biled open-faced fat-sandwich is a still a fave. 

Everything else is new, and the Chicken Hearts is a risk worth taking. A cold plate, thick pomegranate molasses on an elastic heart. A middle eastern spin with yogurt, leafy parsely, and baharat, more of a whispered influence than a blatant takeover. Confident and self-assured. And delicious.

Every meat-meal needs a vegetable, right? The Swiss Chard Welsh Rarebit on rye is not a vegetable. It's the most jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring not-vegetable ever, but don't get this if you're looking for a vegetable. It's a muscle-meat gravy with the a cheesy inclination and a couple of leaves that add a lot of emphasis on the savory wavy-gravy notes.

I usually don't go for the veal, but you don't see a lot of Veal Tongue, and I didn't bite my tongue on this one. The server describes it as a veryveryVERY soft and melty slice of pastrami, and I literally cannot think of anything more accurate. The ikura seems superfluous, but it does add a very interesting texture. The fishy finish almost reminds me of a kosher deli slicing station, where pastrami waits with the lox. By no means not enjoyable, but I assume this combo was for contrast as I don't see the synergy. 

I usually don't go for veal...whatever, judge me, they have tongue, tartare, and Sweetbreads on the same menu and no way self-righteous, gotta draw-the-line somewhere me isn't getting at least two of the three. The sweetbreads are creamy, savory stuff in a crispy shell with brown butter. They steep but they don't sleep in a bed of creamed spinach under a pile of hen of the woods mushrooms.

Foie Gras. Another three options, managed to stop myself at one. There's a flaky, buttery biscuit under a hunk of liver, but no one notices and no one cares. The maple sausage gravy is great stuff, but when those fat globules in the foie start to flavor-burst, the whole world stops. The foie gras is brushed with the thinnest layer of maple syrup sugar, and they've somehow made a better version of what is already the greatest thing ever. 

I'm two-for-two on second chances. Manhattan House went from good to great, and Animal went from whatever to WHOA. I don't know what's changed, I know it wasn't me and my stubborn taste, so either Animal has stepped up its game or if it needs to just serve this menu forever. This time, Animal lived up to its hype, and I am a FAN! 

Animal is A-Okay – West Hollywood

My grandma saw an American grocery store for the first time when she was 64 and I was 12. A little old lady raised in rural China, her eyes shone brighter than the fluorescent bulbs when she saw the piles of pristine produce and the sheer selection that stocked so many shelves. As long as she stayed here, her choices were no longer limited by what the local farmers could grow. Berries were no longer scarcely shipped, and she could defer her fight against the squirrels and bugs for now.

But her face fell when we made it to the meat. “Where are all the good things?” she asked. And she wasn’t talking about this boneless, skinless, flavorless white meat, white-bread chicken breast we call high-end. She wanted offal, which isn’t nearly as awful as it sounds, and a hearty helping of all those body parts that remind us of what we’re really eating. Head, tails, and feet, oh my.

“Grandma, we don’t eat those things here,” I whispered. She understood but then her brow furrowed and she asked the question I couldn’t answer, “Then where does it all go?”
It took me 16 years to find an answer to her question: Animal. Turns out, the parts those stores won’t sell, those parts end up at an unmarked West Hollywood restaurants that still insists on having a name.

Animal doesn’t beat around the bush – it cuts right to the chase with Chicken Liver Toast, the smoothest mousse in town with a sweet berry compote on top. If I’d had a drink that night, I would gladly toast to that no-foie-gras spinoff.

Then there’s nothing like pigs in a blanket to get my southern girl spirit spinning…except this is Pig Ear in blanket, tucked protectively under an earmuff of an egg. I’ve seen plenty of pig parts, but this is the first time I’ve seen a non-Chinese restaurant lend me their ears. Interesting use of it here, but as someone grew up on the crunch of copious cartilage, I can’t help but feel like this particular preparation removed everything that made it an ear, turning textureless and tasteless, while soaking it in a vinegar that stings and a chili that burns.

Sure you gnaw off the meat, but there’s a reason we make broth from stock and leave the bone in our ribeyes. All the flavor seeps from inside or lies beneath if you dig deep, and the Marrow Bone with a little kick of chimichurri and some sweet caramelized onion didn’t disappoint.

My dining companion gave me a lot of…stuff you find in intestines, another organ no one orders, for ordering something else that no one should order at a restaurant called Animal: the Shishito Peppers. Drowned by a bizarrely fishy gray paste with way too much lemon and an even more bizarre, leafy katsuobushi didn’t win any points from my palate.

It’s not a good meal without a nice piece of tail towards the end. The Poutine with oxtail gravy is pretty good with all that melty cheddar, but I just never really got into fancy poutine. I get that fries drenched in gravy are awesome, but fries make poor spoons so when you’re scooping shredded stuff it’s becomes an ordeal to eat.

You can’t make a meal solely out of the bizarre and the uncommon. These Barbeque Pork Belly Sandwiches are a family favorite…because they could come from any table and be made by any family. The sauce is sweet, and the fatty belly is so juicy it practically drips off your chin but neither is unique or memorable. I already don’t love slaw, and this stuff was dripping with liquid mayo and looked like something that goes straight from bulk bucket to lunch line. I scraped it off.

No one throws away bacon, but Animal still manages to make it in a way that few people would dare. The Bacon Chocolate Crunch Bar combines savory with sweet and chewy with crunch. The ice cream adds a bold bite of black pepper, and what could have been a boring dish turns into the most exciting thing I’ve had all night.

All those years ago, when Grandma asked me where all the good things go, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. Because I think the truth is cat food, but now thanks to Animal, I’ll never need to tell her that. But Grandma was right, we do throw the best parts away. And although I wasn’t blown away, I can say with some conviction that Animal is a damn good example of just how good the best parts can be.