Grubtrotters

A seating at Cut, Wolfgang Puck’s luxury-liner steak joint at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, is like a front-row ticket to, depending on your demographic, a Bruce Springsteen or Hannah Montana concert. You have to know somebody who knows somebody who can hook you up. Fortunately for us, our connection this evening was Steve Dolinsky, award-winning food reporter for WLS TV in Chicago who also happens to be the master of media training for chefs.

Steve was a guest at the hotel where he was conducting one of his media sessions, so he was able to snag us a much-coveted 7 p.m. reservation on very short notice. The catch was that we had to sit in the bar. The main dining room was even more insane than usual because a collection of culinary heavy hitters — including Eric Ripert, Alain Ducasse and Jacques Torres — was in town that night to dazzle and delight for one of Wolfgang’s charities.

The bar turned out to be fine because it allowed us to keep tabs on the Kansas-Memphis game on TV. It also gave Steve a chance to say hello to Bobby Flay, another all-star in the charitable function’s lineup. If the bar was good enough for Flay, Mr. Iron Chef America, who were we to grumble?

We opened with two appetizers. One was a bone marrow flan encased inside the bones. We received instructions on how to proceed: Spread the mushroom marmalade over the bread, then top it by scooping the flan out of the bones. The creaminess of the flan and mushrooms worked well with the crunchiness of the bread. Nice. The other was a maple-glazed pork belly with Asian spices. Again there was a contrast that proved to be the right mix: the sweet citrusy aspect of the sesame-orange dressing and the bitterness of the rhubarb compote.

For the entrees, we didn’t opt for the top-shelf choices such as the 100 percent geniune Waygu Beef from Japan. Eight ounces of such ribeye will set you back $160. Sorry, but some of us actually work for a living. We went for the 16-ounce Prime Nebraska ribeye — corn-fed, dry-aged 35 days and listed for 98 bucks less. It was seasoned just right. We sprinkled nary a speck of salt. Juicy. Savory. A real prize-winner.

Our table also devoured the 16-ounce Prime Illinois bone-in filet as well as the Kobe beef short ribs that were cooked for eight hours, then plated over a puree of curried artichoke.

We didn’t have much room left for dessert, but that didn’t deter us from plowing through scrumptious helpings of a dark chocolate souffle and Baked Alaska that were supplemented with a toppings bar of creme fraiche, chocolate sauce and hazelnut ice cream.

On our way out, we took a step into the dining room to check out what we had missed. We’d love to experience the full treatment next time, but roughly speaking we had savored the first-class meal while sitting in coach seats, so long as the airline wasn’t one of the dumpy domestic carriers and preferably a service-obsessed Asian outfit.

But that’s a rant for another day. Victor.