Huckleberry

Sweet delights beckon.

It may not be fair to write a review after only visiting a restaurant once but first impressions usually don’t lie. Zoe Nathan’s Huckleberry bakery/café makes a good impression on your tongue but a sour reception on everything else. Huckleberry’s layout is quite consistent with the newer bakeries and cafes you will find today, almost to a fault. Polished cement floors surrounded by white walls with a variety of photographs hung around the place felt cramped, cold, and confused, not what I look forward to when going out for brunch. Zoe had an opportunity to make something her own, a complete bakery/café with personal touches not only in the food she creates (which she most certainly does) but the world that exists inside the glass doors. Instead I found a burgeoning upscale “Starbucks” that caters to the bourgeoisie of West LA.


Bakery/Cafe, or...


Thunderdome?

Unfortunately my brunch partner, Sascha and I showed up late for brunch and were forced to choose from the lunch menu, and deli items. It is a sad moment to find that a restaurant decides when you can and cannot have breakfast, foodie fascism that needs to be stopped. I went with the fried egg sandwich with bacon and alfalfa to satisfy my morning appetite and was pleasantly surprised to find everything cooked to perfection. Each bite transported me back to the kitchen of a farmhouse but the incessant typing of the woman next to me or the growing volume of conversations that were taking place in this packed feed barn rudely awakened me from my breakfast dreams. The collection of salads that Sascha decided on looked to have potential. After a few bites, it became clear that these had sat for some time in the display case and could have been fresher.


Fried Egg Sandwich with Bacon and Alfalfa.


Collection of Deli Items.

We were not ready to give up on Huckleberry just yet though; we saved room for desert and had tough choices to make from the pastry displays that tempted us from the moment we step foot inside. We went with the pumpkin pie, coconut macaroon, and mini chocolate cupcake. The macaroon and cupcake were top notch, taken down with such speed that you were left debating whether to go another round. The macaroon packed a powerful punch with a crispy outer shell and warm, soft middle combo that floored you from the first bite. Don’t let the mini chocolate cupcake deceive you either. The size of a featherweight but with the flavor of a heavyweight, this contender plays with your taste buds while doing work on your midsection. The pumpkin pie suffered from an identity crisis, it didn’t know if it wanted to be pumpkin pie or something new. There wasn’t much pumpkin in the pie to work with, bullied by the other ingredients but the crest came to the rescue and could have been a dessert on its own. Though it did not taste like a traditional pumpkin pie, Zoe may have created a new desert all her own that was up to the challenge of satisfying any sweet tooth. Tysonesque sweets that have you throwing in the towel before you know it.


Resistance is futile.

Going to a bakery/café should never be a fight; you should never have to fight for position in line, for a table, or for your food. Huckleberry’s lack of efficient use of space and staff creates a Thunderdome that saw two enter and two leave, hitting the road in search of comfort and character.

-Jesse

Bottega Louie

A recipe for perfection...right down to the ribbon.

Cross the regal opulence of Versailles with a playful Italian wholesomeness. Top it off with a laid back Los Angeles vibe, and what do you get? The answer is one of downtown’s latest additions, Bottega Louie.

Walk through the glass doors of this restaurant, bar, and market, and one is easily transported to some kind of European fantasy, all the sophisticated artistry with none of the pretense. I can’t help but wonder whether Marie Antoinette would have fared a different fate had she taken a cue or two from this charming establishment.


Welcome to the Court of Louie

With floor to ceiling windows, bold white walls and sleek marble floors, the space exudes celestial perfection. Roam the shelves and you’ll notice that every detail is accounted for, right down to the ribbons. The market offers counter service for an assortment of delicate pastries, full coffee bar, fine cheeses, meats, jams, spices, and gourmet deli items (They even have kugel!), It’s an impressively deep and varied offering, one to keep in mind for future picnics, entertaining at home, or just a quick fix for those folks employed downtown.


Exquisite pastries send my sweet tooth into hysterics.


Honey dates, and fresh figs, and fine cheeses, oh my.

Despite the decadent surroundings, Bottega Louie boasts a supremely egalitarian ethos. All are welcome. No reservations. Last week, the crowd was a diverse bunch. The huge dining room held a cluster of kids celebrating a birthday, several serious business types working through a power lunch, bohemian rocker artists sipping wine, old ladies who lunch, a couple on a romantic rendezvous, and yours truly enjoying the boisterous, bustling Court of Louie. Yes, depending on the time of day, the place can get pretty darn loud. So prepare yourself.

As for its food,this isn’t the place to go if you want gastromolecular flourishes or fusion gimmicks. The menu is simple and straightforward. Classic, comfort food fit for a king. Dishes are traditional without feeling dated or dull. I recommend the farmer’s market breakfast, two poached eggs over a medley of roasted shitake mushrooms, green beans, golden beets, cherry tomatoes and potatoes.


Farmers Market Breakfast

Or the smoked salmon benedict, two potato pancakes covered with wilted greens,smoked salmon, a dollop of crème fraiche, red onions, and topped off with poached eggs. I was not particularly impressed with their pizza. Something about the relationship between cheese, sauce, and toppings tasted confused. But I suppose they gave it a good enough try. Za Czar that I am, there are few places I can trust for a great slice. All in all, the cooking here feels fresh and easy with a refined touch. Even the to-go items are special. A vegetarian sandwich I had one afternoon was the perfect blend of paper thin cucumber, hearty nut bread, buoyant sprouts, and spicy mustard.


Mixed berry tart with vanilla cream and shortbread crust

As for desserts, the mixed berry tart with vanilla cream filling and shortbread crust is a delight. I can’t bring myself to order anything else.

Though the restaurant is open for dinner, I prefer idling away my mornings and afternoons here, when the bright sunshine fills the space up with an invigorating, unbridled energy. That said, every time I glimpse sight of the sexy bar, I entertain fantasies of charming a mysterious baron over cocktails. However you choose to spend your time here, one thing is certain, you can easily pass away the hours like a queen, eating as much cake as you like without fear of losing your head.

- Sascha

Jar

Deciding on a restaurant for a special occasion can be a difficult process. What reviews do you trust? How do you accommodate everyone that will be attending the dinner? The list goes on of different issues to address when picking a place where you hope lasting memories will be made. For my birthday I decided on Jar as the memory-maker. Unfortunately, the only memory I made was not to come back.

Jar does a lot of things right. The staff is very welcoming and accommodating; our server had been there for quite a while and directed us through the menu like a pro. The décor of Jar has been considered by many to be a modern take on 1960’s cool, a la Mad Men, and it lived up to the billing.

Comfortably cushioned chairs on rollers, the soft lighting, and the lack of exciting flavors in each plate tempts one to take a nap in between courses, why not the whole meal. I don’t mean to be so cynical; Jar does offer delectable treats like their pudding dessert but once our server informed us of what Jar stands for, Just Another Restaurant, I realized that the place definitely lives up to its name. For someone who has been to a number of great steakhouses and feels they know a thing or two of how a steak should be prepared and cooked, the Kansas City Steak was a huge disappointment for me. Undercooked and lacking proper flavor, it tasted like just another steak. The lamb shank was decent but not memorable, again not much flavor. I can’t actually remember what other entrées we had. Picking up on a theme? Boring and forgettable, that’s what you’ll find at Just Another Restaurant.

I enjoy going out to fine restaurants. They truly are a treat and not something I get to do everyday. That being said, I expect greatness. I expect such a magical experience that I dream of the next time I will get an opportunity to return to that restaurant. Unfortunately Jar is not one of those restaurants. Live and learn they say, and I was reminded of a valuable lesson (among others) on my birthday; looks can be deceiving.

- Jesse

Tavern

To spend time at Tavern is to indulge in a trip down the rabbit hole. Inside the latest addition of Suzanne Goin and Caroline Styne’s dining empire lies a world all its own, a restaurant and adjoining larder that seem culled from the pages of Lewis Carroll’s beloved Alice in Wonderland with a 21st century twist. It’s hard to find fault with this food oasis, a delight for every occasion. The front entrance leads you into the bar, a dark, mysterious room, bisected by comically oversized chairs, a place like some historic gentleman’s club, where secrets are told, fates dealt. Not your cup of tea? Fear not. Soft glowing light beckons you into the dining room, a most extraordinary space for day or night. The room literally glows with a perfect blend of natural (full skylights fill the roof!) and artificial light, at once both intimate and vibrant. I felt simultaneously out in the open countryside and nestled inside an elegant estate. The architecture is seamless. Wait staff get to the kitchen through a trick door with no knob. Living olive trees recede into the ground through subtle grates. Couches connect tables. If ever a room radiated quiet, casual elegance, this is it. Another glass of wine and my imagination may have easily transformed the Brentwood crowd into dapper animals in formal attire. The place is enchanted.

If you know Goin’s cooking, then the impeccably seasonal menu will be no surprise. Our dinner last week, for example, felt perfectly situated in time, stone fruit highlights echoed the end of summer and robust meats and root vegetables heralded an earthy transition to autumn. I have to say our appetizers were the stars of the evening. Lamb merguez with couscous, almonds, and roasted apricots. Soft shell crab with sweet corn salad and green harissa. Each dish a symphonic dance for the palate. What makes Goin’s cooking so special is the way she plays with contrasts. She marries bold exotic flavors with pure, fine ingredients so that what surprises also strikes a comforting familiarity. She privileges her patrons to eat from the world’s garden.

Our main courses included: Grilled halibut with wild chantrelles, pancetta and figs. Sea bass with yellow tomato confit, cucumbers and labne, a most delightful yogurt variety. Duck confit with black rice, pistachios and local plums. And rounding it off, beef cheeks with ricotta gnocchi and cherry tomato-brown butter. I don’t tend to favor rich, thick dishes. In fact, I’m not a particularly avid meat eater. So the entrees were a bit heavy for me. That said, everything, and I mean everything, was cooked to perfection, an impressive feat for such a bustling kitchen. I appreciated such brave parings of sweet with salty, tart with creamy, and sharp with nutty.

The ricotta cheesecake with black mission figs and abbamele that we had for dessert was fit for the Gods. I wouldn’t be surprised if it functions as an aphrodisiac. By then, my tummy full, my senses overwhelmed, my eyes dozing, I wondered if the Italian honey was in fact some tincture to send me through a new portal of bliss. I couldn’t tell if I was shrinking or growing. Would I be able to stand up and walk out of the room to my car?

As I headed out the door, a sharp rattle on the window glass spun me around, and a boisterous group of Italian men beckoned me back inside with raised arms. Surely I didn’t want to leave either, wanted the dream to continue on forever. But even Alice needs her sleep. After such an enchanting evening, I’m under Tavern’s spell.

- Sascha

Wurstküche

Leave your hankerchiefs at home. This is a different kind of sausage fest.

Located in a growing section of downtown, Wurstküche could be taken as a wurst enthusiast’s dream or nightmare. A self-labeled wurst enthusiast myself, I was curious to see how their traditional bratwurst measured up and whether their specialty items added anything new. As I approached the ominous entrance of massive brick wall and sliding wood panels, fear immediately enveloped me. Was I entering a restaurant or traveling back in time to a 1980s Lower Manhattan meatpacking sex club? I swear I saw Al Pacino cruisin’ by. The front room's architecture is quite cold, unwelcoming, and claustrophobic.


Ein Bitburger, Bitte!

My saving grace as I grumbled through the cramped ordering area was the sight of juicy wursts on the grill and beer taps behind the counter. The beer selection here is quite extensive and favors Belgian varieties. As the warm and welcoming bartender handed me my Bitburger with a twinkle in his eye, I threw back a few sips of the cold brew, and my foul mood soon began to melt. This 21st century take on a Bavarian beer garden was beginning to grow on me and I hadn’t even taken a bite of anything. It is amazing what good beer and service can do for your psyche.

Further down the dark dungeon hallway in search of a seat, I was surprised to discover an open room that looked straight out of Bruegel’s The Peasant Wedding. I opted to eat outside on the charming patio, spacious enough for one to relax and enjoy the late afternoon breeze.


Communal tables, my kind of place.


And there's a bar!


The charming patio.

Once the food came I quickly realized what all the fuss was about this place. Though the alligator wurst was dry, overly spicy and a bit of a disappointment, the bratwurst and Belgian fries more than made up for it. Wurstkuche definitely nailed the traditional brat. It may have been the best of my life. My apologies to my aunt back in Wisconsin and her beer-soaked brats. The Belgian fries gave you everything you could ask for, not too crispy, not too soft, and the ketchup and mustard relieved the dipping sauces of their duties. Certain novel ideas may be better served as just ideas.



Alligator & Pork, Smoked Andouille Sausage
w/Sauerkraut and Spicy Peppers


The Classic Bratwurst
w/Carmelized Onions and Sweet Peppers

The Belgian Fries
w/Thai Peanut and Chipotle Aioli sauces

That is Wurstküche in a bun, new meets old. It tries to satisfy all tastes on the spectrum but it may be better off catering to its strengths.

- Jesse

Why Gold? Why Goldhor?

Jonathan Gold, Pulitzer Prize winner and food critic for the LA Weekly, stands as a beacon of the Los Angeles food scene, a bright star within what often feels like spiraling restaurant sprawl. In Los Angeles, the possibilities are endless. And navigating the city’s culinary breadth can send the hungry into paralysis. Enter Jonathan, a charming, passionate tour guide, whose weekly column and annual list of 99 Essential LA Restaurants offer Angelenos a magical key to unlock the city.

Brother and sister duo, Sascha and Jesse Goldhor, inspired by the exploits of this gastro-prophet, have ventured out on our own quest to unearth the mysteries of eating in Los Angeles. Using his annual list as a restaurant Bible, the two of us will embark on a mission from Gold. Join us as we eat our way through LA.