Now a few days later, regret has sunk in. If I wasn’t going to perform the lift-and-lick routine (hoping for at least a bronze in the next Olympics), I should’ve just dipped my fingers into the bowl and cleaned it like the way everyone does with the icing when Mom is baking a cake.

The sauce was just that good.

Did I say sauce? Well, that’s a little misleading.

Chef Ludo Lefebvre had served up some chorizo, onions and cornichons as part of the latest FoodDigger get-together, this one at BreadBar near the Beverly Center. It came in a bowl. It looked like lobster bisque.

So like an idiot, I asked, “Uh, where’s the chorizo?”

The bisque or sauce, I was told, was the chorizo.

Ludo had liquified it and then chilled it. It was the opposite of everything that you would have expected. Instead of a meaty sausage, it was a liquid. Instead of hot, it was cool.

But it was fantastic, perhaps the highlight of the night in terms of originality and execution. It was like drinking creamy bacon, and the iced onions and cornichons managed somehow to counter the smokiness and enhance the spiciness.

Before preparing the meal, Ludo had told this gathering of food bloggers the key to his cooking is having fun. This was particularly exciting to hear given our blog motto. “Two Words: Chow, fun.”

Ludo lived up to his promise with a series of experiments in his 11-course presentation to the group. He said that sometimes he goes too far with his creativity, but adventurous eaters go out of their way to find such boldness. He will be hosting Ludo Bites at this BreadBar through August 22.

My other favorite of the night was foie gras, mushrooms, four spices and a dab of truffle oil atop a maple tart. Ludo included a dollop of lemon paste on the side, which brightened the presentation and provided a bitter contrast to the richness. But this was actually unnecessary because the tart itself was so tasty.

Here was the rest of the lineup:

Deconstruction of Bloody Mary: Like a Jell-o shot only on a spoon with sorbet. Zesty.

Tuna Sashimi, Sushi Rice Ice Cream, Shishimi Togarashi, Crispy Onions: The sesame and ginger in the oil were the stars of this one.

King Red Salmon with Roe and Smoked Vinegar, Watermon with Mint: We got specific instructions. Salmon first, then the watermelon. The vinegar turns this into a party.

Shrimp with Daikon Sweet-n-Sour and Rosemary: Nice action with a lemony zing coming through the buttery richness.

Diver Scallop with a Port/Crème Fraiche Foam: I really enjoyed this because I rarely eat scallops anymore. (The touch of bacon didn’t hurt, either.) I love scallops but Jenny is allergic, and we always share, so to keep it fair, I avoid them as well.

Halibut, Spiced Butter, Fresh Porcini, Tonnato Style, Lettuce: Seinfeld says, “Fax me some halibut.”

Duck, Almonds, Crispy Skin Puree, Tapinade, Turnips: Did I mention I could’ve used a straw?

Cheese plate: I am such an amateur in this regard so I will quote Lincoln (or is it Twain?). “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt.”

Panna Cotta, Caviar, Caramel: To explain this blend of sweet and salty, the running analogy at the table was to imagine mixing Milk Duds and popcorn. Frankly, I’m a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups guy, but you get the idea.

You might have noticed that the shot of the chorizo soup/sauce is the only photo on this post. After gushing about it, it’d be wrong to leave it out. But if you’re really interested in seeing these dishes in vivid color and crisp detail, please check out the work of our blogging colleagues (list below) who use cameras that come straight out of a National Geographic budget request.

Using an iPhone, I felt like, as Sean Connery put it in The Untouchables, the guy who brings a knife to gunfight. I would’ve been better off leaving the phone at home. And bringing a straw. – Victor.

BreadBar: 8718 W. 3rd St. Los Angeles 90048. 310-205-0124.

Folks with legit photo gear:

Two Hungry Pandas

Teenage Glutster

Diana Takes a Bite

Kevin Eats

Apparently, Andersson is ankling, but “the restaurant will continue to be open under a different name and menu,” he said. “The only thing that’s certain in life is change.”

Andersson is currently searching for a new location to open AK in the Los Angeles area, which is a little odd, given that the name AK clearly comes from Abbot Kinney, the street where the restaurant is located. Stay tuned.

While it’s probably unfair to compare wines when you’re not tasting them side-by-side in a blind tasting, I also attended a special Opus One wine dinner at Whist a couple months ago, and Rocca’s wines hold up against (and even surpass) some of the excellent Opus One cult wines I tasted. I’m not the only one who thinks so, either. A couple of vintages of Rocca’s Cabernets have placed first in blind tasting competitions against some pretty heavy hitters in San Francisco and France.

The ‘01 Cabernet (with 22% Merlot) was blended by winemaker Celia Welch Masyczek. After six years of bottle age, it’s smooth, complex and elegant — a very yummy, drinkable wine. Campinile paired it with sauteed trenne pasta that was crispy and had the look of French fries, as well as beef bolognese, peacock kale and Parmesan. I also enjoyed their earthy 2005 Syrah ($45), which was paired with rabbit sausage, beluga lentils, apples and pea tendrils. Delicious. Napa may not be known for Syrah, but Rocca proves it can be done quite well. Their new winemaker, Paul Colantuoni, a young hipster and Princeton grad who majored in molecular biology and Italian, is a big fan of Syrah so expect to see more of it in the future.

Our third course was a sage and rosemary crusted slices prime rib with creamy, cheesy aligot potatoes, paired with Rocca’s silky 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon ($75). Aged in small French oak barrels for 20 months, the wine is 81% Cabernet Sauvignon, 15% Merlot and 4% Perdit Verdot. Smooth, smooth, smooth. If you can’t get the ‘01 Cabernet, buy this one. I wasn’t quite as impressed with Rocca’s ‘06 Bad Boy Red ($32), except for the hot cowboy on the label, who I learned was Grigsby himself. The Cabernet, Cab Franc and Petit Verdot blend is big and fruity and lacks some of the elegance and complexity of the other wines we tasted. But you might not notice if you’re not drinking them side-by-side, and the price is certainly right.

Grigsby and Rocca also run a foundation training doctors in Malawi, where 20% of the population has AIDS. They help doctors there provide palliative care at the end of life. So while you may be drinking something called Bad Boy, you can feel warm and fuzzy knowing your money went to some good folks who are spreading the love. I’m so grateful I got the chance to meet them. — Jenny

I just had a lovely little lunch with my friend Shelley at The Cabbage Patch, a casual Urth Cafe-esque spot that opened in February on Beverly Drive in Beverly Hills. Much like Urth, you order at the counter, take a number and sit at one of a handful of tiny tables to wait for your food. It’s fresh organic fare in the vein of Tender Greens. The chef is a veteran of Rustic Canyon and Axe, and all his beef, lamb and pork come from Niman Ranch, while his chicken is, of course, Jidori.

Tangent alert: Speaking of Jidori, I finally got to the bottom of the mystery, thanks to reader Jay Weston, who has a restaurant newsletter. Turns out these chickens, which are served by all the best restaurants in LA (and a few outside of LA), come from a company run by Dennis Mao, the chef at Robata-Ya on Sawtelle. I stopped in to Robata-Ya last week to chat with Dennis. Jidori chickens have been called the chicken equivalent of Kobe beef, but there’s really nothing all that mysterious or exceptional about them. Locavores like Jidori because they’re free-range, grain-fed chickens raised in California without hormones or steroids. They’re also shipped within 24 hours of slaughter, meaning they’re fresh. However, they’re not organic, nor are they massaged daily or treated like some kind of chicken royalty, as some people seem to believe. Mao says you can, indeed, eat his chicken rare, although I don’t really want to test that premise. I tasted a little grilled skewer of his Jidori chicken thighs cooked medium rare, and it was juicy and delicious.

Anyhow, back to The Cabbage Patch. I ordered the chicken n’ apple salad, and the guy behind the counter immediately told me, “That comes with bacon, you know.” Perhaps it was the Indian caftan I was wearing, giving me away as a yogini, albeit a guilty meat-loving one. “Yes, I know,” I told him. “Bacon makes everything better.” That just seems to be my motto this month. (I still haven’t found the time to write about the maple-bacon ice cream I recently tried at Craft, but that’s another post for another time. I don’t want to digress again.)

The salad was large and delicious, with juicy green apples, Applewood smoked bacon, Jidori chicken, celery, capers, baby mixed greens and brioche croutons with a tart champagne vinaigrette. The salad was a full meal, which is good because it was $12. I have to say, after tasting Robata-Ya’s chicken thighs, I think the chicken breast meat in this salad was ever-so-slightly dry or overcooked. Maybe I’m just such a huge fan of the juicy, fatty, medium-rare dark meat I tried last week that a fully cooked Jidori chicken breast doesn’t taste quite as good in comparison. Nevertheless, the salad was satisfying. Not quite as good as Tender Greens, but solid nonetheless. Shelley was also happy with her seared tofu bowl with rice and carrots and cucumbers in a soy sesame dressing. She’s a better yogi than I am, for sure. The big cookies, by the way, are $4, but they’re worth it. I’m also curious to try the Jidori chicken wings next time I visit The Cabbage Patch. That’s one I haven’t seen on a menu anywhere else. — Jenny

Cabbage Patch, 214 Beverly Dr., Beverly Hills, 310-550-8655

My all-time favorite food film is:

A. Like Water For Chocolate

B. Babbette’s Feast

C. Tampopo

D. Super Size Me

E. Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory

F. Eat Drink Man Woman

G. Soul Food

H. Chocolat

I. The Silence of the Lambs

Here is the Grand Rapids Press story on the burger that includes a video clip.

“That’s absolutely disgusting,” Jenny said.

I think she is only disgusted because the burger fails to include mustard.

Just kidding. – Victor.

Love it or hate it, communal dining is the latest “big thing” to hit L.A. I have a piece on Dinela.com discussing this trend of tables where strangers sit side-by-side, striking up conversations and occasionally sharing a slice of pizza. Personally, I love the serendipity of it all. I also love the fact that I don’t need a reservation. I can walk into Gjelina or AK or Bar Centro at the SLS Hotel on a whim and find a seat.

Los Angeles has a pretty entrenched reputation for isolation. Everyone gets into their hermetically sealed cars and drives to a specific destination. Only in neighborhoods such as Venice and Los Feliz do pedestrians actually walk around and run into one another. Not surprisingly, those are the neighborhoods where communal tables work best. Yet, I think we all crave community and connection, even if we’re a little afraid at first. And fear is a huge impediment. Here’s Evan Kleiman, host of KCRW’s “Good Food,” on the response to her experiment with family style dinners at Angeli Caffe:

“Some people would walk in and then immediately turn and start to walk out — I’m not sitting by somebody I don’t know. We’d have to sort of cajole them to sit down. And then they’d sit but leave spaces between them.”

However, some of us like a little danger. If you open yourself up to the unexpected, you never know what might happen. Joan McNamara, chef/owner of Joan’s on Third, calls her communal table “magical.” Strangers have met there, fallen in love and gotten engaged.

“I don’t think people want to feel isolated, especially in this economy,” says McNamara, who had an elderly friend once tell her the Great Depression wasn’t so terrible “‘because we were all in it together.’ Maybe that’s what people are finding now. If you were sitting at two separate tables, you would almost never hand food to someone else.”

Much has been written about the so-called Millennial Generation that helped sweep President Obama into office. They’re less into dating and more into hanging out with groups. They like cooperation, which might explain this new trend. Not to stereotype my own people, but Gen Xers may be just a tad more cynical. Here’s my friend Julia:

“I loathe communal tables. I also hate small plates. I like old fashioned dinners where you eat your own food with people you already know.”

As Victor often says, it’s a large and free nation. Each to her own. But in my book, interaction is good, and the unknown is worth exploring, even if you have to suffer through a few awkward moments. What do you think? An introvert’s worst nightmare or a whimsical delight? — Jenny

Tender Greens West Hollywood, 8759 Santa Monica Blvd., 310-385-1919.

OK, this has to go down as one of the most absurd food stories ever. The president of the animals rights organization PETA wrote a letter to George Clooney asking permission to turn the star’s sweat into tofu, labeling it “CloFu.” Apparently, someone sent the org a sweaty towel Clooney left at a gym in D.C. Here’s an excerpt from the letter:

The technology actually exists to take your perspiration and make it into George Clooney-flavored tofu (CloFu).  We could do that and give the tofu away.  Of course, your fans would swoon at the idea of eating CloFu, but what interests us most is that we would attract many people who don’t try tofu because they worry that it would be bland or that they wouldn’t know how to cook it.

The science is pretty straightforward.  According to Dr. Kevin Keener of Purdue University, all animals — including human beings — have unique odor profiles.  Dr. Harry Lawless of Cornell University reports that if you use a sample of human perspiration, it is “no different than making artificial chicken flavor for instant gravy.”

Gas chromatography can be used to confirm stability of a stimulant matrix, in this case your sweat.  There are trained panels of individuals with sensitive noses who can describe smells to a very precise degree.  They could evaluate your sample and quantify the various odors in order to replicate them and use them to flavor batches of bean curd.

Mmmm, sounds appetizing. This is obviously a ridiculous publicity stunt, but I guess it’s working. I saw the story in The Washington Post, LA Times and Boston Globe. It’s too good not to report. Clooney, however, doesn’t seem to be playing along. His rep told the Washington Post: “As a mammal, I’m offended.”  — Jenny