Jame Enoteca - El Segundo

There’s an Italian bistro in El Segundo generating a bit of buzz and quite the fuss. It's tucked away in a main street strip mall, a small, elegant storefront.

I start with some skepticism, staring at a dish of Sprouts. I love a good brussel, but it's still just a brussel...or is it? Alright, Jame, you have my full attention. A single bite reveals that they are perfectly roasted, the bare minimum, IMO, but then you taste the drizzle, which is a flavor so divine I can only assume it's what balsamic is supposed to be. 

The DineLA deal comes with a glass of wine, and my Montepulciano pairs well with whatever, as if my unsophisticated wine palate would know. It’s a young wine, but it has some style and smoothness, which is more than I would expect for something comp'ed.

Meaty, meaty Meatballs, so moist. Topped with a thick tomato, creamy with a little cheese, offset by a sharp arugula. 

Paccheri is rich with savory sausage, pork permeating a simple, tart tomato and finishes with an aroma of fennel and fragrant sage.

I was prepared to love the paccheri, but the Spicy Rigatoni catches me by surprise. A simple-seeming sauce clings with the crannies of every rigatoni sleeve and leaves you breathless in a single bite. It's just pasta with a sauce, but you'll want to take shots of this vodka.

Dessert is a Meyer Lemon Pie, a tart confection in a cohesive cracker crust with crunch, topped with a baseball of fresh whipped cream that's almost as thick as ice cream. 

Every bite from Jame is simple yet exceptional, and though the food is familiar, it carries the signature of their own unique swagger. Italians are known to be playful, but this food has serious flavor. 

1212 Santa Monica - Santa Monica

 

I am a blogger, not a writer, and I’ve always corrected those who say otherwise. It’s simply semantics to some, but for me there is a distinction. Anyone can opine in a blog, but to write is the art of making a page come alive, and overestimate my skill would be stupid. 

I am a blogger, but whoever wrote the DineLA menu for 1212 is a writer. Because only a real writer could verbally bring these dishes back from the dead.

They start off true enough, with duos from the land and sea. 

What’s not to like about lobster? Bitter endive accents chilled chunks of tail, and a fried oyster is delicately breaded to bring out the pearls of caviar. 

A fried finger of pork is palatable with an alliteration of prosciutto, pistachio, and provolone. An eggplant parm honors the eggplant to the max. 

The mains are where the writing is key. Langoustine Scampi seduces with sound, and there is potential in flayed lobster-shrimp over polenta. But there is no salt in this scampi, no detectable sweetness as the tender flesh is mired in oil.  It’s a mess of heads and tails, and I can’t make heads nor tails of it. 

Osso Bucco is dry, slow-braised into shredded desiccation. By no means is it inedible, but not worth killing a calf. The risotto is alright, as it sings of saffron with the unmistakable fragrance of Parmesan. 

The Tiramisu sounds almost poetic, an impressive passage for a cup of cream. Good cream, but it could use a little more of anything else. 

Beware the DineLA menu that features novel dishes. They’re a deal with the devil more often than not, sacrificing quality for quantity, complexity for cost. I should have known when the recommended Merlot which tasted like table wine, but the suggestion was made with such enthusiastic confidence I got caught up in the moment. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. I woulda gotten a cabernet, and I shoulda ordered a la carte. 

Melisse - Santa Monica

Fine dining can be a clusterf*** these days as chefs vie to be the most innovative, the most forward-thinking, the most creative. Some succeed but most go down in a blaze of garish glory as strange smells assault your senses and fighting flavors knock the wind out of each other and of you. You won't find any of that at Melisse.

An amuse bouche of Prawn features the sweetest swirl of scarlet in a prawn jelly sea with a buffer of panna cotta to temper the textures and let the flavors flow. It's a bite-sized preview of the delights that lie ahead. Every dish highlights each ingredient, all of which are the finest on the market, and each element is seasoned with touches of genius and wafts of whimsy. They uplift and they elevate, but they leave well enough alone.

A Yellowtail Hamachi is stunning in an avocado stole. The fish is meaty, and the avocado brings out its butter, with lighter notes singing in a citrus soup. 

Pay the extra for Egg Caviar - you'll never regret keluga. The underneath egg is poached so soft you might mistake it for cream.

Dip, dunk, and soak with your puff of Basil Brioche. The basilar fragrance is singular, and the bread is as puffy as a cloud. The green isn’t a gimmick - you really are eating a field of basil. 

If you’re going to get the risotto, try the Vongole Crusted Alaskan Halibut first. This fish is a more delicate flavor compared to a bowl of butter, truffle, and cheese, though it is no less delightful. See-through shaves of cucumber make crunchy ribbons of “pappardelle” to offset a pliable piece of fish.

The Truffle Lobster Risotto is a supplement that almost equals the cost of the entire meal. Leave your financial worries at the bottom of the bowl, for there is nothing to regret. They make the risotto with a firm but tender rice, and the Aged Acquerello is supposed to be the best in the business. Each grain asserts its independence, as the flavors cling to the individual. Each grain absorbs the lobster broth completely, and together they embrace the chunks of lobster, of which there are so, so many. A heavy hand shaves the first white truffles of the season right at your table. 

The serious meats are next, starting with the SRF Wagyu Beef Sirloin. It's a meatier cut than most, with not as much of the solid-to-liquid transformation you get with most wagyus. This slice of sirloin requires a bit more chew, with a stronger savor that isn't easily overpowered. A gravy-esque bone marrow sauce oozes over each slice, gentle waves in a brown, caramelized sea of shallots. The short rib wrapped in pasta is the real show-stealer, cylinders of beefy flavor in a cozy, starchy cape. 

I’m surprised there wasn’t a supplement for the wagyu, but after a bite of the Truffle Stuffed Sonoma Lamb Loin, it’s not hard to see why. Wagyu may be wagyu, but it’s the lamb that melts in the mouth. Braised for what tastes like months, the juices flow for days. Squash flowers folded with juicy rib meat are a creative take on a classic veg, and a cushion of charred eggplant breaks up the meat fat with some smolder.

 

A creamy Raspberry Bavaroise to finish; it is oh so very French. A pistachio crumble at the bottom pairs oh so very perfectly, as does the pop of citrus in the yuzu-cream drops on top. The lemongrass sherbert asserts a bolder, more uplifting accent.

Sip on a sweet Rose and feel the bubbles sparkle as they gain traction on the tongue. Paired with the bavaroise, a swallow of this summer wine leaves a splash of raspberry-married-cranberry notes to linger.

A bonus course of Watermelon Sorbet is a breathy breeze on a slow summer night, and the jelly pops like a cool green rind. A little lemon jelly transitions from refreshing to sweet, and the Yuzu Macaron gets sweeter. End the night with a bite-size Caramel Bonbon for a creamy chocolate concentration. 

They call healthcare workers heroes, but it's the servers who are the saints. Always blamed and often ostracized, they already put up with so much. Now we've added a deadly pandemic to the list of things they must endure, but if that's what the Melisse servers are thinking, I would never know. The service is swift and impeccable, politeness accompanies genuine enthusiasm, and no face mask can hide their expertise. There is a smile underneath the fabric, courage beneath the face shield, and a fighting spirit that gives me hope. Ample space separates the tables under a pretty parking-lot patio, and a touchless cell phone scan reveals a menu that is as meticulous as it is memorable. We live in uncertain times, but this meal at Melisse makes me believe that maybe they, and we, can make it after all. 

Spago - Beverly Hills

Spago's DineLA menu, in a single phrase: "glimpses of greatness". This menu is not meant to be a sampler, it seems to be a mere sneak peak, a pre-preview to the wonders behind this Beverly Hills legend. Unfortunately, you get what you pay for. 

We start off on the wrong foot at Spago, an awkward server and a filthy table. Two corners of fresh orange oil-spills leer at us newcomers, barely dry from the dis-graces of those before us. Our server covers one spot with a napkin, but fails to the see the other. He then clears two share plates from the setting, one that stewed in the stain, another that is thick with layer a inexplicably dirty grease. 

A bottle of wine is recommended, and we are overall pleased with the selection. It is a good cab that we're drinking, full-bodied from the cellars of Napa. It finishes smooth after its first full breath.

We start with a delicate Spicy Tuna Tartar. A small scoop of absolutely perfect tuna teases the tongue. The spice piques some interest, and a miso tuille cone adds a surprising sweet finish. 

The Parmigiano Reggiano Marshmallow is fascinating, up to the very moment that it disintegrates into a puff of parmesan air. 

A Homemade Papadum is an earthy cracker, a contrast to the preceding marshmallow, dense with lentil flour and spread with stiff peaks of a silken Indian yogurt. 

Sweet supplements savory in the form of Lemon Meringue under a formidable foie gras mousse. 

A more subtle Sesame Ball flirts with succulent Maine lobster. The Thai curry sauce makes waves with desiccated sea legs of sakura shrimp. 

The DineLA menu comes with a tour of one of LA's most magical kitchens. Chefs cook, cooks clamor, pots and pans clang on the many grates and grills. Steaks sizzle on a single barby, the pasta station is just surviving, and servers scurry to make timely deliveries before the food gets cold. 

We chew in pensive silence, munching on a Maple Macaron. It is the most exquisite breakfast sandwich; the macaron sandwich channels a sugary syrup, that drizzles a chunk of unmistakable bacon over an egg yolk jam. It tastes much better than it looks, thanks to my horrifying skill at cell phone photography. 

The walk cleanses our palates, a welcome break between the apps and the mains. We sit down refreshed, to the most exceptional Egg. A fragile shell, hollowed with impeccable precision, presents layers of complexity. A shockingly sophisticated potato chip foam gives way to a spectacular smoked salmon mousse with a burst of roe on the bottom. 

It alternates from here; every dish is a hit or miss, and some, such as the Oxtail Posole, are a major miss. 

If posole could be described as "salt soup", then this one would be right on. The oxtail is undetectable and the hominy is a bit tough, probably desiccated from the salt. The heirloom red corn tamale is fine, but if Spago wants to stand out, they need to stick to stuff they know how to make. 

The Ikejime Black Cod "en Papillote" comes in a plastic bag. 

They unceremoniously cut the top off with sharp kitchen shears, releasing a column of searing steam, fragrant with ginger and saffron. 

The cod is as tender as a fish cheek, but the mushrooms are, yet again, too salty.

Handmade Agnolotti, an undeniable HIT. The pasta part is flawless, the textbook definition of al dente. Stuffed with sweet Italian chestnuts, fragrant with a shaving of supplementary black truffle, this one is a small slice of heaven. 

The Slow Braised Pork Cheek misses the mark in epic fashion. One of my favorite cuts of meat is flailing in watered-down grocery-store gochujang, and it has the texture of hours-old gum, glued to the bottom of a desk. The potato dumplings are delightful, and the pickled hearts of palm do wonders to add a little light to this dark, dark dish. 

The Grilled Snake River Wagyu Beef is...pretty good. I've had much higher grades of this prized cut. Still, the horseradish potato puree works with the beef, and the beef tendon crisp is a fun iteration of a high-end pork rind, ending this dish on a pretty pleasant note.  

Chef Della's "Celebration of Citrus" is lovely. I am enamored with the lightness of the Fukushu kumquat souffle, an airy but bitter citrus. The Meyer lemon sorbet floats as much as this beautiful swirl of fresh meringue, and tangy grapefruit is a buried treasure beneath. 

It is what it is, this tasting. The mere tip of an iconic iceberg, a sneak peek at the man behind the curtain, the great and powerful wizard of Beverly Hills. I can only hope that what lies beneath the surface is more substantial - this menu is a mere ripple and I doubt it would earn a single Michelin star. One day, I may give Spago another shot, but if this menu is truly the tip of their iceberg, this ship will sink.