The Best Restaurant in America? (by Alberto Chromatico)

The French Laundry

Thomas Keller’s The French Laundry  –  a universally revered culinary Mecca…. How Exciting. Henri’s birthday, and a lucky chain of serendipities, leading to a rare and prized dinner reservation, gives us a chance to find out what all the fuss is about.

Bardessono

And an excuse to jump on a weekend to wine country. A short drive up from San Francisco, we wind into Yountville early afternoon. It looks like it was built yesterday; everything is freshly minted. No litter. No fallen leaves. Shiny as a new button.

Dressed up – this is a jacket-and-tie proposition, for sure – we stroll over from Bardessono, who are proud to be one of the most environmentally friendly luxury spa hotels in the world (all built from something other than building materials) in time for our 5.30 reservation. Seems early, but we’ve been forewarned that we are in for a long haul – four to five hours of persistent exquisiteness – so, fasted for the day, we’re ready.

But our table isn’t.

How can a table not be ready at 5.30 p.m.?

Our maître d’, Martin, greets us – warmly…if a touch over-formally…? Somehow, I’m already on my guard.

Schramsberg

We are invited to sit in the garden and savor the anticipation – and a yummy glass of Schramsberg, Cuvée French Laundry. This is all fine. It’s a nice garden, and the anticipation is savorable.

In due course we are ushered in and sat upstairs. I’m not sure whether downstairs might have been better…the small dining room on the first floor accentuates the hush…for the place is quiet. Like a library or a mausoleum.  Neighboring tables murmur behind cupped hands. It makes me want to let off a rocket or play a power chord or something.

I begin to feel that that the weight of expectation and the stillness of this high church atmosphere might run the danger of stifling the earthly enjoyment of what it is widely agreed is a menu without equal, not to mention the simple conviviality of the birthday celebration.

Anyway, said menu arrived, and questions derived therefrom fielded by our waiter and our sommelier, I’m reminded of the mangling our language is receiving these days in the U.S.  Actually everywhere. Probably including this paragraph. (I’d call it Jamesian, but that would be pushing it.)

“The lamb is going to be more of a salad preparation, if you will.”

Right.

“Now I’m going to go ahead and take your order. If you will.”

Ok! We go ahead and give it to him.

And straighten it all out and strap in. It’s a prix fixe – admittedly a ten-course, and nosebleedingly expensive, prix fixe – with a vegetarian swerve if needed. For me, I just have to avoid the tête du cochon (which brings back too many dark memories from childhood) – everything else sounds plausible. Even the rabbit. For Henri, the vegetarian/pescetarian line works itself out with a little negotiation.

On the sommelier front, we inquire after the much-anticipated wine flight only to find…there isn’t one. We were expecting pairings, and an education, but we’ve been misinformed…so we plump for his (hopefully) skillful and (indubitably) expensive half-bottle or by-the-glass suggestions.

And so…it starts to arrive.

Let me say in advance that, overall, it really was an exceptional dinner and an experience that will never be forgotten.

Amuse-Bouches

Following which, let me also say that – with fear now of eventually contradicting myself – below are the highlights, since some of our notes are illegible and some of our memories vague, and there were photographs untaken and some things we just can’t reconstruct even with the aid of the documentary evidence (menu kept, wine labels studied, website revisited).

The amuse-bouches were more than amusing; they quite possibly trumped the entire meal:

The ice cream cone: salmon tartar on a tuille filled with red-onion creme fraiche…

A melt-in-your-mouth Gruyere cheese coquotte…

And a china spoon full of monkfish liver – ankimo – with yuzu, “like foo gra,” coating….

"Oysters and Pearls"

Then, to kick off properly, a real mainstay of the menu: “Oysters and Pearls,” a “Sabayon” of Pearl Tapioca with Oysters and White Sturgeon Caviar. A Sabayon is a french cousin of the Zabagliones, and whilst this is starting to feel like an upside down meal from years gone by, it is exquisite.

The oysters are from Island Creek in Massachusetts, whereas the Caviar is “local.” Where is the nearest sturgeon, I wonder?

(The alternative bore a $50 supplement and was really just caviar on its own – albeit caviar from somewhere closer to Vladivostock – with merely a decorative sprig of radish, so this was an easy choice.)

Following:

Moulard Duck "Foie Gras en Terrine"

Well, one thing Henri emphatically won’t join me in is the Foie Gras course. But I can’t help myself. (Ah – there goes a $30 supplement!)

Served with “white honey, Oregon Huckleberry Relish, and Tokyo Turnips” – boy what a cruise this is turning out to be – it is also explosively delicious. M. Sommelier cleverly brings a local sweet Pinot Gris which works just fine. Sorry, didn’t catch the label.

Meanwhile, H has a boiled egg. With maple syrup. Are we at the Fat Duck suddenly? Or is it already breakfast somehow?

A word about condiments. At some stage, maybe with the Foie Gras, together with a beurre salé from Animal Farm in Vermont (they have seven cows, one of whom is called Keller), we are delivered three additional types of salt, including a Filipino deer-lick salt, a French sea salt, and a pink Jurassic cave salt from Montana which is 40 million years old.

Forty. Million. Year. Old. Salt. Oh come on, these tidings delivered with not a hint of a smile?

Henri, for her part, can’t stop giggling. We’re not even half way through and she’s already, er, full – and yet can’t stop eating the irresistible bread they keep restocking us with. We’ve eaten more dough than everything else put together and in desperate desperation she begs the waiter to take her bread plate away before another roll magically appears on the table.

Next up:

A Halibut, if you will, with Wild Nettles, Pine Nuts, and Sunchokes. We have had – really – nothing to complain about thus far, but this was a challenge. Really oversalty and slightly on the dry side.

We share our reservations with the waiter, and I can’t help (with the prehistoric rock salt in mind) but say “well at least the salt was fresh.”

Stoneface.

Oh come on, still not a hint of a smile?

"Peas and Carrots"

No, and sideways looks from nearby tables. Feels like suddenly we are in the Python fork sketch. Mortified, wounded, our man retreats into the kitchen and returns with:

An apology in the form of a complimentary gnocchi preparation, if you will.

Just what Henri was after. Dough!

I manfully help to finish it – well, really, to eat it all (it was kind of a small portion).

“Now THAT wasn’t too salty was it?” asks our man, a touch smug.

Ah, no, but it was too much!

Calling on stamina and other resources to continue:

A sweet butter-poached Main lobster dish, in which the fresh peas and carrots from the famed French Laundry garden they are harvested from take the main billing. It is pretty undeniable.

Devil's Gulch Ranch Rabbit Sirloin

And a Rabbit. From the Devil’s Gulch Ranch, served with white Asparagus, Red Pearl Onions, Piedmont Hazelnuts. Watercress and Aged Balsamic Vinegar, and which, being more of a small rabbit, took me less time to eat than describe – tasty but it swept past.

Konsgaard Chardonnay

Meanwhile we have been served with:

A CALERA pinot noir….

A MODICUM Cab Sav….

And a KONSGAARD CHARDONNAY

All the wines were just great.

And then:

Lamb Rib-Eye

The lamb. The lamb is from the Elysian Fields. It is “petit salé.” It comes with: Globe Artichokes, Piperade (a kind of Basque tomato and pepper relish), “Barbajuan” (a Riviera ravioli), and Spanish Capers. I begin to wonder, what merits inverted commas and what not? Is it an index of rarity? Anyway, all of this being noted, the lamb itself was lukewarm, verging on cold. Anxious to avoid another fork-sketch incident, I soldier on – and it tastes fine – but here the wheels seem to have fallen off the wagon again.

"Yorkshire Pudding"

In the meantime Henri has been feasting on a really lovely Yorkshire Pudding, garnished with King Trumpet mushrooms. She seems to have got her appetite back.

Almost there:

Next up was the cheese course. Henri takes hers to go (probably still in the hotel fridge) and I have a cavatina with cauliflower and apricots, but neither of our memories can conjure it up again.

Not so with the ensuing desserts, which are memorably and unquestionably epic, and accompanied by an excellent tag team of a fine Tokai and a surprising Asti (which we noted with some prescience, “taste like tomorrow’s hangover”).

The chocolate souffle with caramel ice cream and Malden salt (yes, even now, the panoply of salts keeps a-coming) is indescribable, and the Lemongrass Cremeux with Sicilian Pistachio is equally a peak experience. Followed by a mini chocolate birthday cake!

Birthday Cake

And then, to rub it all in, chocolates, which for Henri at least redefine the word “chocolates.” Which is hard to do.

It’s hard to sum it all up. Absolutely no regrets, though some small disappointments along the way. When the food was amazing, it really was amazing, Hats off. I found the ambience a challenge, yet in the end really wanted to think the best of it.

Would we do it again?

Well I don’t know, but in the end, a gorgeous evening.

Bouchon Bakery

Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups

And by the way, no better breakfast to follow such a night than chocolate peanut buttercups and monkey bread from Keller’s Bouchon bakery a few doors down. Sweet or savory, your choice.

And the best macaroons in the world.

Macaroons

The Best Fish Tacos on the Planet

Hummingbirds in Paradise

The Parker in Palm Springs may be my favorite hotel. It’s not the most lavish or fancy resort but every time I wake up and step outside my room, I feel like I’m walking through paradise. The design and use of 60s-era decor is exactly how I would design my own house – a bit of class, a touch of kitsch, and a splash of glitter. The 60s chique design is intermingled with the lush vegetation, playful hummingbirds, and exotic palm trees you would find in my Garden of Eden. Apparently, the hotel’s New York designer, Jonathan Adler, envisioned the Parker as “your great aunt’s estate. She’s an Auntie Mame type who traveled the world and had innate panache.” Apparently Mr. Adler’s great aunt and I need to spend some quality time together.

Norma's

What I look forward to most, however, is Norma’s, The Parker’s all-day breakfast/brunch/lunch spot. In New York, Norma’s sister restaurant was voted Zagat’s best breakfast spot in the city and, although I have never ordered anything except the Pancho’s Crispy Fish Tacos, I can understand why.

Panchos Crispy Fish Tacos

Those tacos are the most incredible tacos I’ve ever tasted! They lightly batter Barramundi fish (otherwise known as Australian sea bass) and serve it on a bed of shredded cabbage and onions with a creamy, slightly spicy sauce, guacamole and salsa. And before I could ask for Tapatío for some extra spice, I was beaten to the punch by the type of thoughtful staff one would expect in paradise. The fish lightly melts in your mouth while the batter is perfectly crisp without ever being overly greasy. The tacos are not cheap by food truck standards, but the portion is huge so you can share it and you get a taster of their delicious daily smoothy on the house to wash it down.

Love Birds

There are other temptations on the menu that a non-die-hard fan of the tacos can order such as:

·        6 different versions of eggs Benedict served on buttermilk pancakes.

·         A $1000 lobster frittata with Sevruga Caviar (which the Parker dares you to order and people have been stupid enough to)

·         The rock lobster and mango salad is tasty and refreshing

·         French Toast Momma Can’t Make (which our breakfast server said was her favorite)

They all sound delicious, but I wouldn’t know as that would mean sacrificing another opportunity to eat fish tacos in paradise.

Click here for the full menu

Norma's Menu

The Best Chocolate Bar

Salty, sweet, milky, chocolaty, crunchy…. Perfection.

Charlie's Salty-Sweet Chocolate Bar

Though it was sitting in my kitchen beckoning me daily, somehow I managed to restrain myself from eating Charlie’s salty-sweet cashew bar for about a week until the opportunity to share it with some friends came up. Finally the day arrived and I made the predictable mistake of opening it up just before people got to my house. My eyes glazed over as if I had been possessed and before I knew what was happening I had devoured nearly the whole bar. Luckily there were still about 4 pieces left as my guests showed up and I was forced to hand it over.

Despite eating nearly the entire bar I didn’t feel sick or even guilty afterwards. It’s 100% deliciousness. Mmmmmmm. Must take a trip to San Francisco to get some more. Or you can take the easy route and order online: http://www.charleschocolates.com/

Charlie’s triple chocolate covered almonds and hazelnuts, chocolate caramel almond sticks, and chocolate cones with Pâte de Fruit are more of God’s gifts to chocolate lovers.

The Best Bloody Mary

I have scouted high and low for the ulitmate hair-of-the-dog tincture and mixologist Matthew Biancaniello’s Mother Mary recipe is by far the most superior comfort-drink I’ve tasted – hungover or not!

Please email me where your favorite Bloody Mary is served – or any recipe tips…. I’m on a mission to try them all: henrietta.tiefenthaler@gmail.com

Mother Mary

Muddle cucumber slices, red bell pepper chucks, 2 cherry tomatoes and a pinch of the following: cilantro, chives, scallions, parsley and dill.
Add 3/4 oz fresh olive juice, 3/4 oz lime juice, 3/4 oz fresh lemon juice, a tbsp of Bubbie’s beet horseradish from Wholefoods, 1 oz of Stirrings Natural Bloody Mary Mix and 2 oz of Hangar One Mandarin Vodka.
Do not shake but roll back and forth between the two shakers, serve in a tall glass and garnish as you please (I would opt for a sprig of rosemary, thyme, an olive and a slice of jalapeño). I’m not sure if you could squeeze in any more deliciousness if you tried.

For more of Matt’s recipes, check out his blog, or taste his libations on select nights at the Library Bar in the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.

Best Cheese (other than truffle cheese): UnieKass Robusto

It’s on sale at Wholefoods and has been my main conversation starter since I tried it a couple of weeks ago. UnieKass is a Dutch cheese company that specializes in Gouda. The Perrano Robusto has been aged for 9 months giving it a nutty, Parmesan-like quality while retaining its creamy Gouda texture, but its the salt rocks that burst in your mouth that make it so moreish. Being someone who squirms at having to engage in awkward cocktail party banter, this cheese should definitely be incorporated into those guides for perfecting the art of small talk. It’s helped me make at least one new Facebook friend.

UnieKass Robusto

The Best Uni Shooter

Uni is sea urchin’s creamy tongue-like genital organs (mmmm…right?).  It is a Japanese aphrodisiac specialty, served in a tangy, alcoholic and spicy concoction with a raw quail’s egg to complete the ultimate savory shooter.  While these are the standard ingredients, each purveyor of the specialty has its own personality – so I decided to take it upon myself to visit as many Japanese restaurants in L.A I could find in my quest to seek out the best variation of the classic uni shooter.

The second runner up:

WA Sushi – The addition of ponzu jelly made the uni slide down as easily as the ocean vomited it up….

WA Uni Shooter

The first runner up:

Asanebo, my new favorite Japanese restaurant (minus the bill).  Even though the gonad slime has spent its life bottom feeding the excrement of the sea, this uni could not have been more fresh, with the addition of masago fish roe to indulge your taste buds.

Asanebo Uni Shooter

And the winner is…Matsuhisa.

The Winner of the Best Uni Shooter: Matsuhisa

I must first admit that I love every Nobu I’ve been to, but this one stands out by the fact that it was the first restaurant opened by culinary God, Nobu Matsuhisa, and the only of his establishments where on any odd day you can still find the deity himself hanging out.  The last time I ate at Nobu, I was grinning so hard, he waved at me, probably mistaking me for someone he actually knew.  I then kidded myself into thinking that perhaps he did recognize me from the last time we had locked eyes  – four years prior, when I asked him for directions to the bathroom. Hmmm.

Matsuhisa Bathroom with Super High-Tech Lavatory

Lavatory Controls!

Even if you don’t like sea urchin, I can pretty much guarantee this shot will send you to sensory heaven.  It’s full of all the perfectly proportioned flavors and buttery, liquidy textures that work in harmony together to titillate your taste buds, and as the ingredients are condensed into a shot glass it’s actually possible to shoot back in one big gulp for the ultimate gustatory experience.

If you want to try to make this yourself at home, here’s one version of the recipe….  In either a double shot glass or a small martini glass, layer these ingredients in the following order:  A piece or two of uni, a raw quail’s egg yolk, a spoonful of ponzu sauce, a splash of sake, rocotta (spicy Peruvian pepper sauce), cilantro and a wedge of lemon.  You can also sprinkle it with fish roe (the little coral-colored fish eggs), as they do at Wa, for even an even saltier, crunchier addition – and finely chopped onion or ginger, shiso, lime or even an oyster for good measure.

Try to get your uni (and all your seafood for that matter) from sustainable sources.  This is a really great guide: http://www.sustainablesushi.net/ Casson Trenor, the author of “Sustainable Sushi” recommends getting uni from Canada and California.  Maine has depleted their supply by 95% and Japan fishing methods as traditionally a bit dodgy, so if you should avoid them!

If you know anything about sustainable fish you will also know there was a huge backlash against Nobu in 2008 for serving the nearly extinct, Northern bluefin tuna.  But you’ll be pleased to know that Casson Trenor is a big advocate of shellfish and therefore…uni.  So now you can revel in the best dish at Matsuhisa and feel good about your eco-activism.

Slurrrrp

So, there you have it, if you want to indulge in the very best uni shooter L.A. has to offer, head straight to Matsuhisa.  And if you smile just the right way, Nobu himself might even mistaken you for a long lost friend.

Jitlada: The Best Thai Food – If You Can Handle The Spice

I have spawned an insatiable addiction to spicy food over the last few years and, finally, I have met my match. Jitlada, the southern Thai restaurant in the heart of Hollywood’s Thai Town claims to serve the spiciest food in L.A. and, after my tear-jerking, hallucinatory dining experience, I am inclined to believe them.

Thai Jungle Curry with Salmon and Eggplant

Not exactly known for my patience, I’m lucky my first dining experience was Take-Out. One thing I have since learned is that the wait at Jitlada is obnoxious. It actually goes so far over the line, there should be a sign upon entry that warns:

Unless you are not hungry and have all the time in the world to spare, we will send you over the edge – GUARANTEED.

It really feels like a test to see whether or not you deserve the food there. You can’t reserve a table for parties of less than five and if you walk in and wait by the door you will be left standing unattended, or made to wait outside.  It’s hit or miss as to whether or not you will be handed a menu and trying to attract one of the waitress’ attention becomes a frustrating game because some of them don’t speak English and act as if they are totally unaware of the fact you are flapping your arms at them in a desperate attempt to garner some attention. I can never relax or engage in conversation until I have placed my order which means I am usually sitting at the table in silence frantically waving for a good half hour. I’ve finally learned to order two large Singha beers to myself the second I sit down so that I no longer care when my food arrives but even getting that far is a challenge.

Jazz the Mafioso Matriarch. I love her.

I had the flu during my first actual visit to Jitlada, the perfect opportunity to test out the spice potency on my blocked sinuses. I had seen a picture of their signature jungle curry and had my heart set on eating it within the hour. The dish is traditionally made with pork spare ribs and Thai eggplant, but they have a salmon version too which I ordered rare, with additional eggplant and peas.

Despite plowing through everything else on the menu, so far the jungle curry is still my favorite. It’s riddled with various flavors that manage to seep through despite the fact that your tongue feels like it’s going to disintegrate after every bite. In addition to Thai eggplant, green beans, peppers, branches of fresh green peppercorns, and fresh chiles: Jazz uses an assortment of herbs and spices which she grows in her garden.  These include kaffir lime leaves, lemongrass and galangal (a rhizome similar to ginger but more bitter and piny). Turmeric plays a vital role “in every single curry” and another of Jazz’s revelations is oyster sauce: “I make everything with oyster sauce. Not too much, but it’s the secret. If you have one jar of oyster sauce in your house, American food will taste much better.” All in all Jazz claims her trick is to make everything fresh and, considering how many mutations of curry there on the menu, I would be more surprised if the food didn’t take so long to prepare.

Jitlada has been around since the 70s but it wasn’t until Suthiporn Sungkamee, or “Tui,” and his sister Srintip a.k.a. “Jazz” took over in March 2006 that it garnered any attention. Having acquired its name four owners prior to them, when Tui and Jazz came on board they decided not to change it. They got rid of most of the old recipes and pretty much started from scratch, with Tui cooking his generations-old family recipes and Jazz handling everything else, much like a Mafiosi Matriarch. The siblings were raised with nine more brothers and sisters in Nakhon Sri Thammarat, where their grandmother taught toddler Tui their inherited family recipes. The restaurant stands out from most other Thai dining rooms. It resembles a home more than a sterile eating area, scattered with trinkets and Jazz’s daughter, nieces and nephews frantically running around.

Jazz, Tui and Family

Four years ago, they were grasping for customers. Forced to waste away fresh ingredients night after night, Jazz would make her habitual prayer offerings to Jatukam Ramathep. And then one day, Chowhound poster Erik M. came along and saved the day. Upon a visit to Los Angeles, he picked up a take-away menu that read “The very best Southern Thai food from Jitlada.” Even though the bilingual menu looked exactly the same as it had done on his last unimpressive visit, he noticed the cryptic Thai print surreptitiously inserted in the back and decided to take his chances. He ordered from the new scrawl and was amazed to find those presumptuous words were true. He went back habitually during his stay, sampling the list of age-old Southern Thai recipes, as Tui morphed the same ingredients into unrecognizable explosions of tumeric-saturated flavor from one day to the next.

A quirky disfunctionality at Jitlada is the layout of the menu (largely written in dialect, remaining a mystery to most of the Thai waitstaff and totally wasted on their oblivious customers). There’s a regular menu at the front with some of the traditional, more Americanized dishes and a back page with an incoherent list of Southern Thai specialties that clearly hasn’t been edited since its translation into English in 2007 (by Erik M). The food is vaguely categorized by type of meat, fish or vegetable as opposed to appetizer, soup, salad or entrée making it difficult to find anything you’re looking for and that’s if you happen to discover the back page in the first place. I think this is a ploy to make you work even harder for your food as, like Erik M, I am now on a mission to discover all the secret specialties camouflaged in the jumbled layout and have obsessively been back multiple times a week since my first visit in an attempt to do so.

Fish Kidneys as featured on Jonathan Gold's 99 things to eat in LA before you die

No matter what you order or how mild you order it, the food is sure to trigger your bowels into action. Jazz told me that three women have called her to report that they had given birth within 24 hours of eating her curry.  Excluding the Dynamite Spicy Challenge – which involves choosing a spicy mint leaf or curry sauce base and a protein, taking a bite and preparing to sweat spinal fluid – the jungle curry is meant to be the spiciest dish in the house, which I believed until I tried Jonathan Gold’s recommended fish kidney curry and started tripping. Seriously. It came with an egg omelet and a bed of ice with cucumber, raw cabbage and carrots to help with the pain but nothing could prevent me from sweating out of every pore in my body as the walls swirling around in a warm, psychedelic haze and I felt like I was in an interactive Doors music video. I could sense my friend was sharing the same out-of-body experience as his eyes glazed over and we both struggled at coherence as we forced another bite of pleasurable pain into our mouths. As much as I love Jonathan Gold, I do not think that fish kidneys are something you have to try before you die. It tasted like cheesy feet and is the one dish so far that I really didn’t like.

Enormous Juicy Green-Lipped Mussels from New Zealand in a Spicy Lemongrass Broth

The staple dishes there which I alternate are the coco mango salad, crispy morning glory salad and tom yum soup and I order at least one portion of the steamed mussels every time I sit down. They are these enormous, green-lipped mussels from New Zealand and even if you don’t like mussels you will devour these juicy ones. They are bathed in an overwhelmingly aromatic broth of lemongrass, basil, dried chilies and a ton of salt which you are encouraged to slurp dry.

The coco mango salad is a combination of dried coconut, mango, cashews, shrimp, onions and garlic. It tastes like a tropical explosion.

Coco Mango Tropical Explosion

The crispy morning glory salad is deep fried Chinese watercress served with shrimp in a spicy, sour, sweet, limey dressing.

kaeng ài “Mang-kon”: fish balls stuffed with salted duck eggs in a green curry sauce. The curry is milder than most of the others and I love the chewy, doughy texture of the minced fish crust.

Fish Balls Stuffed with Salted Duck Eggs (Photo Courtesy of Jo. S)

Mango Sticky Rice. Oh. My. God. It’s worth going to Jitlada just for this dessert. Jazz says the trick is the palm syrup she drenches it in but I think she adds a dash of crack on the sly. We went for my friend Rebecca’s birthday and I asked Jazz to make a cake out of it and she willingly obliged.

Heavenly Mango Sticky Rice

Here’s the menu that Erik M. first translated. Since then, there are about 200 recipes on the menu to choose from:

01. kaeng khĩaw-wãan khài “Mang-kon” : green curry with egg-yolk-stuffed fish balls 
02. kaeng tay poh plaa châwn hâeng : Southern Thai-style curry with dried mudfish and water spinach 
03. kaeng néua khĩi-lèk : spicy curry with beef and pickled cassia buds 
04. kaeng lẽuang kûng yaanãd rẽu lawkaw : spicy, tumeric-seasoned curry with shrimp and pineapple 
05. kaeng lẽuang “Thaalaa” : spicy, tumeric-seasoned curry with catfish and pickled bamboo shoots 
06. kaeng lẽuang plaa bawk àw-dìp : spicy, tumeric-seasoned curry with mullet fish and taro shoots 
07. kaeng kài khĩi-phrâa : spicy, tumeric-seasoned curry with chicken and bottle gourd 
08. kaeng kài nũn àwn : spicy curry with chicken and young jackfruit 
09. kaeng kòp sôm tháwn : spicy curry with frog legs and santol fruit 
10. kaeng kûng yâwt khãam àwn : spicy, tumeric-seasoned curry with shrimp and young tamarind shoots 
11. kaeng kûng yaanãd : spicy, tumeric-seasoned curry with shrimp and pineapple 
12. kaeng kûng wùa thùa : spicy, tumeric-seasoned curry with shrimp and jicama 
13. kaeng jèut plaa mèuk yát sài : “bland” soup with minced-chicken-stuffed squid 
14. kaeng plaa dùk bai chá-phluu : a spicy, tumeric-seasoned curry with catfish and wild tea leaves 
15. kaeng pàa plaa dùk lûuk tàw : spicy, tumeric-seasoned “wild” curry with catfish and sator beans (no coconut milk) 
16. kaeng phûung plaa kûng sàp : spicy, fish kidney curry with minced shrimp 
17. kaeng phûung plaa plaa yâang : spicy, fish kidney curry with grilled fish 
18. phàt phèt lûuk tàw puu nìm : spicy stir-fry with sator beans and soft-shelled crab 
19. phàt lûuk tàw “Meuang Khon” : Nakhon Sri Tammarat-style stir-fried sator beans 
20. khûa klíng “Phat Lung” : Phat(tha)lung-style spicy, tumeric-flavoured dry curry with pork or beef 
21. kûng naang òp wún sên : giant shrimp baked in a clay pot with mung bean noodles and peapods 
22. kûng sa-dûng fai : grilled whole shrimp topped with a special dry curry sauce 
23. kài bàan tôm khĩi-mîn : tumeric-seasoned soup with chicken (bone-in) and kaffir lime leaves 
24. sii-khrong mũu krà-thiam phrík thai : deep-fried pork ribs seasoned with garlic and black pepper 
25. tôm khẽm nàw mái lûuk tàw : salty soup with tumeric, coconut milk, sator beans and shrimp 
26. tôm yam kûng naang : sour and spicy soup with giant shrimp 
27. plaa thâwt khĩi-mîn : deep-fried tumeric-seasoned fish 
28. plaa thâwt náam plaa jâo khãwng râek meuang thai : seabass seasoned with fish sauce and deep-fried 
29. plaa thâwt râat phrík : deep-fried fish (seabass, catfish, pompano, or pomfret) “smothered” in sweet chile sauce 
30. plaa thâwt râat phrík sãam rót : deep-fried fish (see above) with “three-flavoured” sauce 
31. plaa bawk tàet dìaw : dried/fried mullet fish (pieces) 
32. plaa bawk tôm náam sôm jaak : sour soup with tumeric, mullet fish and nipa palm vinegar 
33. yam prîaw dâwng : pickled crab salad 
34. yam plaa dùk fuu : fried, shredded catfish salad with chile 
35. yam sôm mûang “Pak Nang” : Amphoe Pak (Pha)nang-style papaya salad 
36. khâo yam “Songkhla” : rice salad in the style of Songkhla province, with assorted vegetables and a sweet sauce (náam budu)
37. khanõm jiin “Meuang Khon” 5 náam 3 dâng : rice vermicelli with fish balls and your choice of curry sauce 
38. khâo nĩaw sômtam kài yâang lâap náam tòk : sticky rice with papaya salad, grilled chicken, minced meat salad, or “waterfall” meat salad 
39. néua tàet dìaw / néua sũwan : dried/fried beef “jerky” 
40. puu pèn phla : raw blue crab salad with lemongrass, mint and chile 

Shintaro: The Best Albacore Crispy Onion

Albacore Crispy Onion

1900 N Highland Ave
Ste 5
Los Angeles, CA 90068
Neighborhood: Hollywood

(323) 882-6524

www.shintarosushi.com

BEST SPICY COCKTAILS IN L.A. (some recipes included)

Henri’s Four Aces

Four Aces with Jalapeño

While I’ve been adding chili to almost everything that enters my mouth and can be chewed for years, I’ve only recently begun applying this staple to cocktails – surprising if you knew how much I love chili and how many cocktails I’ve chugged in the last decade. I think what got me started with my new drink kick is a cocktail called “The Thug” at the The Roger Room (an art deco bar that recently opened where the Coronet Theater used to be on La Cienega). I was lucky enough to have stumbled in on the establishment’s pre-opening night a few months ago while the staff were familiarizing themselves with the new menu, testing out their skills on over-enthusiastic guinea pigs like myself. After trying as many of the free cocktails as I could, I discovered this spicy whisky concoction, The Thug, which has forever altered my drinking life. The Thug consists of: Maker’s Mark, honey liquer, organic lemon juice and habañero-infused bitters.

Damian Windsor at the Roger Room

 

And while The Thug was my gateway drug, the real root of my new addiction started out, innocently enough, as a vodka cocktail they have called the Four Aces. I love it, but it isn’t spicy. So, getting on the mixologists’ nerves as I’m prone to do, I ask them to add jalapeño every time. The ingredients are Monopolowa vodka, fresh basil, green grapes, lime juice & Canton Ginger Liqueur, served on the rocks with a metal straw. It’s strong, smooth, tasty and not too sweet. The addition of jalapeño and crushed ice instead of rocks makes this the most delicious spicy cocktail I’ve ever tried and – probably purely due to the egotistical fact that I helped create it – the winner of this blog.

The Burning Mandarin

Two Burning Mandarins

This spicy cocktail is infamous. And though I went to Katsuya in Brentwood three years ago, I had not yet discovered the wonders of mouth-searing beverages and somehow failed to notice The Burning Mandarin martini. I’ve been meaning to try their signature cocktail ever since but it’s not on the menu at the Katsuya-run establishments I frequent: Izaka-Ya Katsu-Ya in West Hollywood or the Katsu-Ya in Studio City (both of which are chef Katsuya Uechi’s toned-down versions of the Philippe Stark-designed, SBE Group monstrosities in Brentwood, Hollywood, Encino and Downtown).

So a few weeks ago I braced myself for the soul-sucking Hollywood location on Vine so I could finally taste this highly anticipated martini – and it was totally worth the sacrifice! Made with mandarin vodka, freshly squeezed juice, simple syrup and crushed serrano pepper, it was served in a sugar rimmed martini glass: super strong, sweet, spicy and refreshing(-ish). I had one and spent the rest of the meal trying to sober up. We sat at the bar and ordered my if-I-were-stuck-on-a-dessert-island-and-had-to-choose-one-dish special: the baked crab roll with avocado, and sincerely questioned why I don’t eat there every day.

Burning Mandarin Recipe:

2 thin slices fresh serrano pepper, divided                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         1 1/2 ounces mandarin vodka, such as Absolut or Hangar One
3/4 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 ounce freshly squeezed orange juice
1/2 ounce simple syrup
1/2 ounce cranberry juice
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 orange wedge

1. Place 1 slice serrano pepper into a cocktail shaker and mash lightly with a muddler. Add vodka, lemon and orange juices, simple syrup and cranberry juice. Fill shaker with ice. Place a mixing glass over the cocktail shaker, hold together firmly and shake back and forth 10 times.

2. Run the orange wedge around the rim of a rocks glass and dip the glass into the sugar. Strain the cocktail into the sugar-lined rocks glass. Coat the remaining slice of serrano with the remaining sugar; float on the liquid as a garnish.

The Hot Tamale

The Super Hot Tamale

The Hungry Cat is known for its phenomenal cocktails but one that’s no longer on the list, The Hot Tamale, I’m considering petitioning them to bring back. Last time I went to the Hungry Cat our obnoxious waiter refused to let us order it, but I couldn’t write this blog until I had been back and tried it. A week ago, the perfect opportunity arose when I went there before the Pixies played at the Palladium a couple of blocks down the road and found a more sympathetic server. You used to be able to order a regular Hot Tamale or a super spicy one, the latter of which I, of course, opted for. By the time my friends arrived, I had pretty much finished it, just in time to order another round for the three of us. The cocktail totally lived up to its reputation. Made with reposado tequila, fresh lime and orange juice, fresno chili, and simple syrup, it’s super spicy, with tons of flavor and dangerously easy to drink. So easy that I had to stop myself from ordering thirds before I missed the concert.

The restaurant is also famous for its large selection of Bloody Marys and what I think to be the best Michelada in town. I have no idea what’s makes it taste so good but, despite the fact they use cheap Tecaté beer, it just does. They also have a grapefruit version which I haven’t tried and don’t really have any desire to – but maybe you will.

Hungry Cat Bloody Mary‘s menu:

Traditional or Spicy Bloody Mary with egorushka vodka   10.00

Schnockered Bloody Mary plymouth gin & house-pickled vegetables   10.00

The “Matchbox” our traditional with a shorty of beer   13.00

Maryland Mary our traditional bloody mary rimmed with maryland spice mix & served with an oyster   13.00

Farmer’s Friend egorushka vodka, muddled cucumber & tomato, lime juice & toasted fennel seed    10.00

Michelada

Malo has my other favorite Michelada and they let you choose what beer you have in it. One of my best friends who lives in the purple house almost across the street from the Mexican locale, introduced me to the specialty and I’ve never looked back.

Malo’s Michelada Recipe:

Recipe adapted by Christine D’Abrosca

Makes one drink

Salt, for rimming

Lime wedges, for rimming and garnish

Ice

6 to 7 dashes Tapatio hot sauce

2 dashes Worcestershire sauce

3/4 ounce fresh lime juice

Pinch of Tajin Fruit and Snack Seasoning (click for source)

One 12-ounce Mexican beer (Pacifico, Negro Modelo or Tecate)

1. Moisten the rim of a Collins glass with lime and dip it in salt.

2. Fill the glass with ice and add the Tapatio, Worcestershire, lime juice and Tajin seasoning.

3. Top with beer and garnish with a lime wedge.

Bloody Mary

This category needs to have a blog of its own but for now Top Chef celebrity Tom Colicchio’s restaurant, Craft, wins the prize. I tend to drink Bloody Mary’s on a hangover and when I went to Craft it was no different. I have no idea what made it so good but I think the trick is a teaspoonful of horseradish paste, Worcestershire sauce and a lot of spice. The staple recipe at Craft is Hangar One Chipotle Vodka, tomato juice, horseradish, lemon Oil, crushed Black Pepper, and pickled Bean. Sadly, my friend and I didn’t know about the Hangar One (this chipotle-infused, hand-distilled gourmet vodka they use), and ordered ours with Grey Goose, extra spicy.

Given how awful I felt at lunch, the corporate vibe at the Century City restaurant provided absolutely no relief. It was overly pretentious, huge, and uncharismatic. The doorman had no idea that the restaurant is located on the same corner as the Comerica building which made it extremely challenging to find, despite being on the phone with him, standing on the opposite corner of the Avenue of the Stars/Constellation Avenue intersection. We had to ask for our drinks twice – both times – before they finally arrived and, although the waiters were friendly and trying to be helpful, they only seemed to attend to us once we already had what we wanted. Getting a menu and giving our orders took way too much effort, although the quality of the drinks and food definitely helped. Even the pumpernickel anise bread was irresistible. I selfishly ate it all while my friend who was inviting me to lunch didn’t get a chance to even try it. He seemed way too preoccupied with his cocktails anyway.

From Tom Colicchio’s amazing website www.eatdrinkordie.com, here are a couple of video recipes for Bloody Mary’s.

Grey Goose Le Citron Pickled Mary: http://www.eatdrinkordie.com/videos/ad2a6f3654/grey-goose-le-citron-pickled-mary-from-grey-goose-vodka

Bloody Mary from Scratch: http://www.eatdrinkordie.com/videos/73c1bc28ac/bloody-mary-drink-of-the-day-from-steve-calabro-drink-slinger

Best Bar Tender’s Choice

Vodka with mint, lime, ginger and bitters

The Varnish downtown is my new favorite bar in Los Angeles. They have a specialty cocktail list which is limited to about five varieties and not very inspiring. What I love so much is that you can ask for nearly any kind of alcohol and flavors you like and the mixologist will concoct a delicious surprise out of them.

There are two separate bars: one by the entrance of a dive diner called Cole’s; and Varnish, a dark den hidden behind a secret entrance in the back. The one downside is the service at The Varnish is abominable. First of all, even if it’s half empty inside, the door man will make you wait in Cole’s, the self-proclaimed originator of The French Dip and oldest Public House in Los Angeles, for as long as his heart desires. This didn’t actually work out too badly because the Red Car Bar there is equally as good,  not at all crowded, and, I have since discovered, serves alcohol from 11 a.m! Conversely, at The Varnish, it’s considered to be a privilege to be allowed in, the line at the bar is a joke, the mixologists think they are God’s gift to alcoholics and although there is table service don’t hold your breath. The drinks are amazing but by the time you get one you’re already overdue for your next.

Vodka with apricot and egg white froth at The Varnish

 

If you are ordering directly at the bar, steer away from the basics to avoid an evil eye. Even vodka is frowned upon, but I wasn’t in the mood for a hangover and ordered it a couple of times regardless. My first request was vodka with mint, lime and ginger. With added bitters and poured over crushed ice, it was perfect. The second time I asked for something with vodka and frothy egg white, which I had been eying as it circulated the room. They added apricot and the drink was creamy but light and, even though not exactly what I was after, it was delicious. Having gone back since, I have noticed that convincing people to drink gin, rye-based cocktails, and the use of frothy egg whites seem to be a recurring theme there.

Cole's

 

I recommend going in the early evening when it’s still empty and you have plenty of time to get steadily drunk. Or just stick to Cole’s. Either way, despite my complaints, I love them both.

For more of the best cocktails in L.A., read this L.A. Times article. It is mouth-watering! And yes, I know…it puts my iphone pics to shame.

L.A. Cocktails

Liquid Heaven

• From top: Blood Sugar Sex Magic, The Donají, The Barbacoa
• From left: The King of Bahia, The Arsenal, The Nettle
• From left: The Brown Derby, The Spiced Mule, South of the Border Sazerac
• From left: Remember the Maine, The Fashionista, Old-Fashioned, Frescura
• Pisco Sour

The epicenter of groundbreaking cocktail culture? It’s right here in Los Angeles  by Wyatt Peabody / photographs by Nigel Cox / coordinated by Jennifer Stockley

At the Varnish, a speakeasy-style downtown bar that is now the city’s shrine to the art of the cocktail, the who’s who of the L.A. mixology scene are arriving. Tucked into the back of Cole’s, it’s a fine gathering place for an event with the Sporting Life, a skull-and-bones guild of our most celebrated bartenders. Steven Olson is pacing out front, doing last-minute fact-checking on the history of the margarita. His colleague David Wondrich is taking the full brunt of Olson’s frayed nerves. “Some of the most important bartenders in the country are in there,” says Olson. “I need to make sure this story has been confirmed.”

As the room fills, a near fistfight erupts in the corner—about ice. Yes, frozen water. The two bartenders defend their positions like fam­ily honor. Ice is that big of a deal. In fact, it might—save only for temperature—be the single most overlooked factor affecting mainstream cocktails. As bartender Eric Alpe­rin asserts, “Ice is the bartender’s flame, and it’s often the most disregarded ingredient.”

Olson begins his presentation and goes on to debunk an old myth: The margarita was not invented in an Acapulco bar in 1948; it is actually a descendent of the Brandy Daisy, which dates back to the late 19th century. A gasp issues from the crowd—these people are serious cocktail nerds.

“The Barbacoa pushes all the boundaries of taste—sweet, salty, sour, bitter and, yes, the fifth element: umami.”

“Half of the country’s top 10 bartenders today are in L.A.,” Olson says. But as recently as six years ago, the state of cocktails in Los Angeles was at a low point. In spite of the city’s illustrious lineage, only a handful of places remained where one could get a proper drink. Gone were the days of Billy Wilkerson and his speakeasy-inspired nightclub crusade that included classic haunts like Ciro’s and Trocadero.

Enter the visionaries. In 2004, it seemed like a crazy idea to make a pilgrimage from, say, the Westside to downtown for one of Cedd Moses’ first properties, the Golden Gopher. Moses was an early pioneer and cannot be given enough props in terms of his vital role in reshaping downtown and preserving our cocktail legacy.

Today, the rate at which significant cocktail bars are opening and world-class bartenders are emerging makes Los Angeles the most exciting scene in the United States.

The proof, however, as is said, is in the pudding—or in this case, the libation. Our informal tasting panel sipped its way across town to seek out noteworthy and unique drinks that not only taste remarkable but represent a creative leap in construction. The research, we assure you, was strictly academic..

     

The Barbacoa, The Donají and Blood Sugar Sex Magic

JULIAN COX, Rivera

Rivera’s Cox is modest and kindly, but his cocktails at this downtown spot are fierce—starting with the Barbacoa—a blend of Herra­dura Silver tequila, lime juice, red jalapeños and red bell peppers, chipotle puree, house-made ginger syrup and agave nectar, garnished with beef jerky. (Note: Barbacoa refers to meats wrapped in maguey leaves and cooked in earthen holes.) It’s like nothing you’ve ever tasted and breaks myriad rules in its ascent to brilliance. The nose erupts immediately into perplexity, pushing all the boundaries of what we know about taste—sweet, salty, sour, bitter and, yes, the fifth element: umami.

The Donají is Cox’s ode to the storied Zapotec princess, featuring Del Maguey San Luis del Rio mezcal, citrus juice and agave nectar, colorfully accented with fresh pomegranates, an organic lemon leaf and chapulin salt—the latter two garnered from unnamed local sources. This is perhaps the purest aromatic expression of mezcal that a cocktail has ever known. The palate is impeccably balanced, with an intense depth of flavor, refreshing finish and lingering clean redolence in which the sweet citrus marries with the herbaceous characteristics of the distillate.

Blood Sugar Sex Magic is a delectable potion of Michter’s Single Barrel US1 straight rye whiskey, agave nectar, chili pepper, lemon slices and basil. The ingredients are muddled and shaken, then served over ice. While the base spirit is decidedly non-Latin, the explosive, spicy flavors make for yet another beautiful cocktail pairing.

     

The King of Bahia

VINCENZO MARIANELLA, Copa d’ Oro

Selecting a single cocktail from Marianella—who, when he joined Providence in 2005, became il Padrino (the godfather) of L.A.’s cocktail renaissance—is challenging, particularly since his most compelling drinks are often invented on the spot. Among his jewels, however, is an appropriately named concoction that evokes the sensual essence of Brazil. The King of Bahia features disparate ingredients—Brazilian Sagatiba cachaça, St- Germain elderflower liqueur, passion fruit, lemon juice, jalapeño and simple syrup—that collide exquisitely with bossa nova–like poise. The immensely complex flavors are gloriously confusing to the palate, revealing layers of sophistication—running the spectrum from luscious nectar to intense heat—that are only trumped by sheer, unanticipated balance. Sultry and sumptuous.

A former semi-pro basketball player from Italy, Marianella is modest, claiming that since the age of 19 he has “stolen” techniques from bartenders from Sydney to New York to London, where he met his most significant mentor, Salvatore Calabrese. “But it takes two to tango. A passionate bartender can only do so much,” he says, referring to Moses, whom he bluntly calls a genius. Currently, Marianella is his own master at Copa d’Oro in Santa Monica, which he was tapped to join by Jonathan Chu at the beginning of 2009. The Westside oasis derives inspiration from the Santa Monica farmers’ market, allowing patrons to create cocktails from a select menu of spirits, herbs, fruits and vegetables—yielding exquisite libations.

     

The Arsenal

ZAHRA BATES, Providence

This master takes her craft up a notch with the Arsenal—a fruit-driven classically inspired cocktail that is seamlessly balanced in its sweetness. Bulleit bourbon, agave nectar, Angostura bitters and muddled olallieberries and passion-fruit puree add up to an unrivaled complexity and purity. “I suppose the Arsenal is a true reflection of my style of mixing,” Bates says. “I love to make the spirit I am working with shine—in this case, bourbon, drawing out the citrus and dark fruit notes, yet not forgetting its beautiful smoky qualities.” Her respect for the base spirit and its modifiers is evident; this has to be one of the best cocktails in the country.

When Bates—now mixing it up at Hollywood’s Providence, after working six years in London at the Sanderson Hotel, as well as at Hollywood’s legendary Bar Marmont—shakes a cocktail, she has to use her entire body, starting at the knees, because, as she kids, “I’m so small I need all the help I can get.” If you catch her on a slow night or early in a shift, you might be lucky enough to pull a few stories out of her—and she definitely has her share.

     

The Nettle

DANIEL NELSON, The Doheny

Deep in Nelson’s repertoire are cocktails containing ingredients that even seasoned barmen use sparingly—raw ginger, myriad liqueurs and absinthe, to name a few. He has an instinctive understanding of base spirits, their congeners and modifying agents, and he marries them effortlessly. Among his most popular are the Square Cup, the Ginger Marga­rita, the Walnut Manhattan and his infamous Blue Blazer.

The Nettle, however, is a singular mixture that might just flaunt the best use of absinthe in any libation. It blends fresh-squeezed blood-orange juice, honey syrup and absinthe—all shaken with ice and poured into a flute, then topped with champagne. It is immediately bright and refreshing while rich and darkly complex. To take the first sip is to embark on a journey that inevitably meanders into shady districts, consequential of the magnificent Le Tourment Vert absinthe, reconciling in the brightness of Perrier-Jouët Brut Champagne.

Nelson entered the collective L.A. consciousness most prominently at Providence. These days, he’s both reviving centuries-old cocktails and blazing trails with new inventions at the Doheny, a private downtown club owned by Cedd Moses and Mark Verge.

     

The Brown Derby

MARCOS TELLO, The Edison and the Varnish

Few bartenders are more scholarly about cocktail history than Tello. He regales his patrons with stories of George Washington’s punch parties, culminating in a version of the Whiskey Rebellion you never read about in school. Tello’s Brown Derby—which originated at the Vendome, the first in a string of clubs opened by Billy Wilkerson—is about as easy as it gets in terms of ingredients: bourbon, grapefruit and honey. But his result is greater than the sum of its parts. By the third sip, complexity blooms, and the ingredients blend flawlessly.

Tello is the quintessential organizer—timeless and zealous in his campaign for reform—and he is beloved. He serves as president of the Southern Chapter of the United States Bartenders’ Guild (USBG), and he founded the Sporting Life, the society of L.A.’s benevolent cocktail illuminati.

     

The Spiced Mule

DAMIAN WINDSOR, The Roger Room

Among his peers, Australian native Damian Windsor is consistently mentioned as one of the best barmen in L.A. A favorite cocktail of his is the Spiced Mule, inspired by a trip to the Curio Parlor cocktail club in Paris and conjuring images of tall ships and late-19th-century seaports. “Rum was the first currency of Australia, and the only people eating limes back then were sailors,” he says. Everything is complementary and contradictory at the same time—naughty and pure. Fresh liquefied ginger is beautifully tempered by lime and a spice-infused simple syrup of nutmeg, vanilla and cinnamon, paving a landing strip for the beautifully balanced Sailor Jerry spiced rum. The palate is intensely sweet, explosively spicy and entirely mysterious, yielding complex flavors, borrowing from the best of Indochina along the colonial spice route.

Windsor has a cult-like following that tracks his every move: from Table 8 to Copa d’Oro to Seven Grand. He currently holds forth at the Roger Room, which opened its unmarked doors on La Cienega earlier this summer.

     

South of the Border Sazerac

JASON BRAN, The Roger Room

Born out of a dinner in which he matched eight courses of food with original cocktails is Bran’s South of the Border Sazerac. The original Sazerac, one of the oldest known cocktails—and a New Orleans native like Bran—calls for rye whiskey, Peychaud’s bitters (and only Peychaud’s), a sugar cube, a splash of absinthe and a lemon for garnish. Bran loves the drink because “after all these years, it is true to the spirit—you can taste the whiskey. The bitters and absinthe are secondary.” In his version, he substitutes rye with Don Julio añejo tequila, the sugar cube with agave nectar, the Peychaud’s with Fee Brothers grapefruit bitters and Regans’ orange bitters. The tequila and bitters—unlikely bedfellows—interweave a structure in which the absinthe dances whimsically, lending an intricate harmony. This is innovative drinksmithing—breaking ground while maintaining a reverence for classics.

Bran trained in Seattle as both barman and circus performer. While under the tutelage of famed Seattle barman Murray Stenson of the Zig Zag Café, he studied with the Teatro ZinZanni troupe. His circus background coupled with an interest in writing led him to L.A., where he has made a significant name for himself as an assertive barman.

     

Remember the Maine

ERIC ALPERIN, The Varnish

Commemorating the attack on the USS Maine in Havana Harbor in 1898 and the subsequent call to arms that led to the Spanish-American War, Eric Alperin’s version of Remember the Maine is exceptional. The recipe includes Old Overholt rye—for its nutty profile and backbone—Dolin Rouge Vermouth de Chambéry, Cherry Heering, a spray of Pernod absinthe and a slightly wet Luxardo Marasche cherry. The rye is first and foremost, giving way to a battle between Cherry’s sweet spice and absinthe’s herbaceous muse. The overwhelmingly complex palate is at once sweet, sour and bitter, revealing layers of rich, deep flavor that persist indefinitely.

Alperin’s pedigree is unparalleled. After tenures in New York—Lupa (Mario Batali, Joe Bastian­ich) and the Milk & Honey/Little Branch family (Sasha Petraske)—he was brought here to open Osteria Mozza, then moved downtown to the Doheny and now the Varnish. For him, cocktails are personal: “Man, I relate drinks to moments and experiences—that first sip after a tough job or that glass of something after a good romp in the bedroom.”

     

The Fashionista

DAVID KUPCHINSKY, Comme Ça

This creation might just be Kupchinsky’s signature cocktail. The Fashionista calls for Martin Miller’s Westbourne Strength gin (a good start), Peychaud’s bitters, a pinch of tarragon, Luxardo Marasche cherries and Banyuls vinegar. It’s a unique example of a culinary cocktail that stays within the realm of traditional libations. The very floral nature of the gin begins a delectable dance that is enhanced by the tarragon, taking twists into the sweetness of cherry and the sharpness of bitters. In between, there is something quite remarkable—a concoction of toasted juniper, white pepper and coriander seeds marinated in Banyuls vinegar that lends a delightful convolution. Think herbaceous, floral, spicy and rich.

At West Hollywood’s Comme Ça, Kupchinsky is unassuming and enchantingly disconnected from the scene. He seems to channel spirits in his cocktail making and relies on his intuition more than trends. He offers a decidedly refreshing twist on the sidecar—his lemon-verbena version calls for Kelt Cognac, Cointreau, honey, lemon and lemon verbena, topped with Regans’ orange bitters. Highly recommended.

     

Old-Fashioned

JOHN COLTHARP, Seven Grand

With a complete redefinition of the venerable old-fashioned that poses impeccable balance and thorough longevity, Coltharp creates his most formidable drink. The nose is complex in its purity, offering balmy lemon skin, jasmine and orange blossoms, with oscillating waves of sweet and bitter. To quote the drinksmith: “A well-made old-fashioned is the bedrock of cocktails. A bartender who doesn’t take care in building one is someone I’m buying a beer and a shot from. They’ve been made for over 200 years. Let’s give a nod to those that poured before us, and make them right.” His incarnation consists of Sazerac six-year rye whiskey—as he calls it, “Baby Saz”—a white sugar cube, Angostura bitters, soda water and lemon and orange peels. But it’s not the ingredients that make it—rather, it’s the hand of the craftsman.

Coltharp trained under Australia’s Sammy Ross—of Milk & Honey/Little Branch fame—at Comme Ça and Sona, making him an indirect descendant of New York legend Sasha Petraske. This experience, no doubt, prepared him for his true love—whiskey—and an invitation to join Cedd Moses’ Seven Grand downtown, the first serious property built for and around spirits.

     

Pisco Sour

LUCAS PAYA, The Bazaar

Barcelona native Paya’s pièce de résistance has to be his Pisco Sour, served in a cocktail glass with Pisco 100, lemon and lime juices, simple syrup, fresh egg whites and Angostura bitters. Never has a better balance been achieved with Pisco—one that puts the earthy distillate front and center, revealing its funky, herbaceous belly while drawing upon egg whites to lend body and citrus to elevate its intrinsic flavors. It is ridiculously decadent, refreshing and simply elegant.

At Bar Centro at the Bazaar in Beverly Hills’ SLS Hotel, where Paya serves as beverage director, his libation arsenal is extensive: He has enabled Angelenos to have a reason to drink Sangria again—here made with Parés Baltà cava (a type of sparkling wine), lime rounds, raspberry, verbena, gin, Cognac, Cointreau, simple syrup, orange skin and grapes. His version of the dirty martini, with Ketel One and Noilly Prat topped with an “olive brine air”—the unexpected contrast of salty foam chased by the essence of pure distillate—is brilliant. His dramatic Liquid Nitrogen Caipirinha is cachaça, sugar and lime, topped with edible petals and lime zest, all nitro-whisked until it can be eaten with a spoon.

     

Frescura

PABLO MOIX, Hotel Maya

A Queens native of Colombian and Venezuelan origins, Moix takes great pleasure in educating people about cocktails, and he can make one hell of a drink, which he’s currently doing at Long Beach’s Hotel Maya. His original Frescura combines Cazadores Reposado tequila, Del Maguey Chichicapa mezcal, orange and lemon juices, chamomile simple syrup and ginger, topped with ginger ale. The intrinsic flavors of the agave-based spirits, found in dank earthiness, elegant smoke and chlorophyll, are accentuated by the citrus and elevated further by the ginger-chamomile components and candied aromas. The crushed ice provides for temperature control and perpetuates the playfully unassuming nature of the cocktail. About halfway through the drink, you believe you’re drinking liquid magic.

Through preeminent roving beverage consultant Ryan Magarian, whose clients include the Huntley Hotel, Consilient Restaurant Group, the Viceroy Hotel in Miami and the Sofitel hotels, Moix learned cocktail history, recipe execution and management skills. Recently, he accepted a position with Bacardi as portfolio mixologist, enabling him to work with New World agave and cane-based spirits and continue to collaborate both with friends across the country and imbibers—connoisseurs and novices alike.

The best pizza in Brooklyn and my favorite shot at La Esquina

Through the kitchen, down the stairs, to the dungeon....

As hyped up as it is, for me Halloween in Hollywood has always proved to be anti-climactic. So this year, my friend Josh and I decided to fly to New York – kamikaze style – to celebrate the ultimate witching hour. We took the red eye from LAX Friday, arrived in JFK first thing Saturday, and left again on Sunday afternoon. After landing at 7 a.m., we dumped our stuff at my friend Nitro’s house in Brooklyn, went costume shopping during the day and to my favorite restaurant in the big apple for dinner: La Esquina, a Mexican dungeon hidden below a street level Taqueria in SoHo.

Round 2

This was followed by bar hopping, gawking at a zoo of the most hyperbolic outfits I’ve ever witnessed, and drinking copious quantities of tequila across town. We ended up coming full circle back to La Esquina – with an even bigger entourage – for more of the best shot I’ve ever had: a “Completo.”

Penguins

Apparently it’s a Mexican specialty, but I’d never heard of it and I was certainly on a mission to make up for lost time that night. A Completo is comprised of a shot of your choice of tequila – the bar there boasts 130 different kinds – accompanied by another shot glass filled with a spicy chaser called sangrita (no, not sangria). Rather than down it, I slowly sipped away at consecutive rounds, taking pleasure in alternating between the two flavors: the smoothest tequila imaginable (unfortunately I have no idea what brand it was) and this bloody-mary-type concoction of tomato juice, lime juice, salt, chili powder and Tobasco – probably exactly the same ingredients used in another of my favorite beverages: a Michelada. After a few of these, we noticed most of our friends had mysteriously vanished.

We made our last stop of the night at some dive bar called The Cabin Down Below, also hidden underground (below a pizza joint on 7th and A), before finally retiring at a somewhat-reasonable hour in order to wake up for pizza at the legendary Di Fara’s. No one believed we would actually get up early and make it to Midtown, Brooklyn, before catching our flight. But they also don’t know the lengths I will go to for food.

On Sunday morning, the alarm went off, and an image of pizza infiltrated my marinaded brain. I jumped out of bed, dressed, packed, bid our host adieu, and got a taxi to Avenue J where this legendary pizza joint has been located since 1964. Throughout these 35 or so years, Di Fara’s founder, Domenico DeMarco, has single handedly made every pie to enter his customers’ watering mouths. Some of his seven children work in the family business but none of them are allowed to steal his thunder. He has worked almost every day since he set up shop in 1959 and if he can’t go to work (such as back in January when he broke his knee cap) the restaurant is closed until he can. He doesn’t stop for lunch, eating his sole meal after he closes: a pizza with a bottle of wine every night. Only recently, now that he’s in his 70s, has he decided to take it a bit easier, closing the restaurant on Mondays and Tuesdays – to the horror of his devout groupies.

The Menu at Di Fara's

Considering our time constraints, I was worried because every blog and article I have read about Di Fara’s mentions what a nightmare the line is, sometimes taking up to two hours to tackle. However, when we got there, DeMarco’s son took our order almost immediately. I am a crap decision maker when it comes to choosing food – on a good day. On a hungover day, I can’t decide at all.

Josh's Pizza

I stared at the menu while my marinated brain went into overdrive: artichoke or no artichoke. Broccoli rabe. Or not. Garlic…? For sure. Eggplant? Yes…. Right? Luckily they were out of artichoke so that was one less addition to worry about. I ordered my slice with baby eggplant, porcini mushrooms and garlic. Then Josh got the same – but with broccoli rabe. Shit, why didn’t I ask for that? 

He ordered two slices… We sat down. Is one slice going to be enough? I raced back and urgently asked for another. Ha. 

Pork Slap Pale Ale

My favorite thing about the place is that it’s BYOB. While the pizza was baking, Josh went and got us an alcoholic antidote from the liquor store next door. The pizza arrived in Josh’s absence and I stole one of his rabe slices before he could notice. Heehee. I had requested Peroni but they didn’t have any so instead Josh brought back the most esoteric brand of beer he could find: Porkslap Pale Ale. I was skeptical but it turned out to be perfectly flavored and creamy. Just what the doctor ordered.

1424 Avenue J

There’s been a lot of controversy over the fact that DeMarco has just raised the price of a slice to $5, extortionate for a pizza corner shop in the middle of a crummy Jewish Orthodox-with-a-Russian-twist neck of the woods, but totally worth it in the grand scheme of things. DeMarco supposedly imports the finest ingredients he can find: a combination of fresh and canned San Marzano tomatoes, Colavita and Philippo Berio oil, and not one but three types of mozzarella. Apparently, each mozzarella has different moisture and salt contents which, when baked together, DeMarco discovered results in a killer combo. The first is called “La Bonita” and it’s from the pizzaiolo’s hometown in Italy, in the province of Caserta; the second is Fior di Latte, a buffalo mozzarella; and last is regular mozzarella from the Grand Cheese Company. After the pizza has been taken out of the oven, he also sprinkles grana padana, a parmesan-esque cheese, along with freshly cut Israeli basil, for the ultimate finish. Despite all this talk of cheese and oil, the pizza isn’t overly greasy. I have since learned that the absence of an orange oily film on the pizza is a sign that the cheese is high quality. And there was no oily film – until Josh and I went back to the counter and drenched our slices with parmesan and chili oil.

Domenico DeMarco

The pizza base is thin and cripsy, just the way I like it. In fact, just as the Duchess of Windsor once said you can never be too rich or too thin, no pizza can ever be too thin or too crispy as far as I’m concerned. DeMarco makes the dough three to four times a day so that it’s always fresh. He also manages to time the baking down to a T, coming out of the oven with the dough bubbles just blackening enough without burning it. “You see the pizza, and it’s got a lot of black spots, it’s Italian pizza. If you see pizza that’s straight brown, it’s not Italian pizza.” His pizza is definitely Italian.

I took a bite and felt a great sense of comfort ooze over me. To be honest, the garlic was so overwhelming I could barely taste anything else, but I didn’t care. I can never have enough garlic and DeMarco definitely didn’t hold back with the fresh pungent chunks of it. I ate one slice and proceeded to work on the next by which point Josh was already long finished. I started the second slice and sadly realized there was no way I could stuff it all in. As per usual, my eyes were way bigger than my stomach and I begrudgingly gave a very enthusiastic Josh the rest.

Having satiated our pizza craving and started worrying about making it to the airport on time, we bid DeFara’s adieu, caught a cab and arrived at JFK 45 minutes before our flight. One minor detail…. It was taking off from La Guardia. 

Click here to read slice.com’s Di Fara Pizza timeline.