Grubtrotters

Happy Fourth of July weekend! Just to get you in the mood for the grill, here’s a shot of our BBQ platter from Baby Blues B.B.Q. in Venice. We were so hungry, we started eating before we remembered to take the pic. So if you notice a few bites missing, that’s why.

It’s easy to see how this little hole-in-the-wall joint is so popular. We shared the “Blue Devil,” a feast of four different meats with three sides: chicken, baby back ribs, Memphis ribs and pulled pork with a side of collard greens, mashed sweet potatoes and sauteed okra. The meat was moist and delicious, the BBQ sauce tangy and tight. Loved the cornbread, too. Cornbread is usually too dry for me, but this cornbread was like melted butter. The sweet potato was definitely my favorite side, though. Such comfort food. Collard greens tasted a bit too smoky, almost burnt, and the okra was drowning in garlic. Was it the best BBQ I’ve ever had? Sorry, I’ve lived in the south, so no.

But I can’t say enough about the service at Baby Blues. We got white meat chicken instead of dark by mistake, so they just cooked us up some extra dark meat and let us eat the white meat, too. Then, the friendly guys working the grill saw me salivating over the mac & cheese and gave me a small bowl to sample for free. We rolled out of there fat and happy, the American way. God Bless America, and God Bless Baby Blues! — Jenny

Baby Blues B.B.Q: 444 Lincoln Blvd., Venice. 310-396-8023

Only in Venice would a neighbor at the next table see me salivating over her truffle pasta and offer me the first bite. It was Saturday night at Ado, the cute little Italian joint in the homey space formerly occupied by Amuse, and Allison was in the mood to share. I happily accepted her offer, even while wondering where on earth they found truffles this time of year. Australia?

Ado, a joint venture between Paolo Cesaro (Hidden and Via Veneto) and Chef Antonio Mure (Piccolo, La Botte, Locanda Veneta) opened last month with little fanfare, but the place already is already buzzing with a distinct party vibe. The space is tiny — only about 10 tables — and a little hot upstairs, but the service is fantastic and the food is pretty darned good.

My only beef about Ado is the price. Vic and I ordered two appetizers, one pasta, two entrees and two glasses of Nerello Mascalese wine. Even without dessert or a full bottle of wine, the meal tab came to $178 with tip. They actually charged us for three glasses of wine, but Vic caught the mistake. Still, the bill was pretty steep for an Italian meal in this economy, and I ate better for less last month on a trip to Florence. Not that the Venetians at Ado seemed to mind. Everyone was having a great time. And I must admit that the appetizer portions at Ado were huge. You could easily save a few bucks by ordering an appetizer and pasta instead of a main course.

When we arrived at Ado, a gaggle of gorgeous Italian men greeted us with “Buona Sera” and showed us upstairs to a table covered in white cloth and a single candle. There seemed to be almost as many servers as diners, which made for highly attentive (but not annoying) service that was rather polished for such a new place. We started the meal with a Parma Prosciutto and Burrata cheese appetizer (pictured above). The cheese was creamy and luscious, the prosciutto a salty winner. You can’t go wrong with this one. We also tried the Warm Baby Artichokes Hearth with Dungeness Crab Meat, Mache salad and Grape Must Reduction. This starter had a boatload of crab meat but could have used a tad more flavor — more of the must reduction, perhaps.

Next we shared the Home-made Pappardelle served with Rabbit Ragu, Porcini Mushrooms and Dried Prune. Dried prunes? I was a little concerned about that, but they actually added a sweet little flavor kick that balanced out this hearty dish. The thick ribbons of pasta were cooked quite al dente. Nice overall, but not especially memorable.

My main course, however, was a huge winner. The Grilled Colorado Lamb Chop stuffed with Pesto and served with a Red Wine and Mustard Sauce was fantastic. The meat was tender, cooked flat and then rolled up with the pesto filling. The sauce was salty — I like salty — and complex. So good. Vic ordered the Pan sautéed Beef Filet Mignon served with Crispy Prosciutto and a Pink Peppercorn Sauce. Sounded wonderful, and it wasn’t bad at all. But if you have a choice between the filet and the lamb chops, go with the lamb chops for sure. The sauce was just better, the dish itself more interesting. Both of our entrees were served with a side of carrots, potatoes and sunchokes, also known as Jerusalem artichokes, which looked like potatoes and tasted sort of like a crunchy root vegetable.

I wish we’d had room for dessert, but like I said, the portions were massive, and we were stuffed by the end of the meal. The service was so friendly, the folks at Ado made you feel like you were stopping by their home for a dinner party. The valet saw us coming down the stairs and brought us the correct car without us even giving him the ticket. What a great place for date night. I have a feeling Ado is going to be hard to get into very soon, but if you do make it, don’t forget to share some truffles with your neighbor. — Jenny

Ado: 796 Main Street
Venice, 310-399-9010.

Well, that was quick. Chef Conny Andersson’s AK Restaurant + Bar on Abbot Kinney in Venice is closing after just seven months, citing creative differences with his financial partners. The restaurant got a nice review from the LA Times, but we had mixed feelings about it after an uncomfortably cold night there and haven’t been back.

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.

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

Victor and I had the pleasure of checking out AK Restaurant + Bar this week, another relatively new hot spot on Abbot Kinney in Venice from former Four Seasons chef Conny Andersson.  We enjoyed a cool beer tasting featuring a selection of brews from around the globe paired with various dishes. I’m more of a wine gal, but Victor, given his many years as a sports reporter (and now editor of the website SportsFanLive.com), is definitely a beer guy. Beer snob may be a better term. He won’t let me touch his collection of Sierra Nevada Celebration Ales. In any case, we both thought the concept of beer pairing was an entertaining change of pace.

My favorites were the complex German pilsner Konig paired with a chilled seafood appetizer, and the Japanese Hitachino Nest white ale, a light, bright and citrusy compliment to the perfectly cooked duck breast in a black pepper honey gastrique. Vic was partial to the Cupaca Mexican pale ale,  which he described as “fruity and hoppy.” The Sing Ha lager was decent, but nothing special, given that I’ve had it at dozens of Thai restaurants before. The Vietnamese pilsner Hue just didn’t hold up in this crowd when it came to flavor, strength and complexity. And the Belgium ale Maredsous 8 was too sweet when I first took a sip but tasted great with a bite of mac & cheese.

Our first reaction to AK as a whole was mixed. Given the timing of its opening, the similarities and proximity to Gjelina, I couldn’t stop myself from comparing the two. It didn’t help that it was a frigid night, and we sat close to the door, which wouldn’t close all the way on its own. We were cold. While drinking cold beer. Vic kept getting up and shutting the door himself. The overall feeling of the place left me cooler than Gjelina, even though it was hopping. Perhaps it’s the mid-century modern design. The original Earo Saarinen chairs are incredibly stylish and comfy. And the glass walls overlooking bamboo, the glass-enclosed fire feature, the communal tables in the bar are all very lovely. But I found the spare, clean lines of mid-century modernism a bit chilly on this winter night. The little upstairs nook of a terrace looks a lot cozier and more private, and I think I would have preferred it.

The food, too, was up and down. Both of our entrees were wonderful. The duck and the king salmon with grilled fennel and a honey mustard glaze were both outstanding –  moist and tender. The plating was gorgeous, the flavors divine. However, the steamed blue mussels starter was disappointing. Not terrible, but again, the ones at Gjelina are such much better. The dish needed something, maybe garlic? Spanish chorizo in the sauce was a little tough and chewy, although I have to say the tiny toasts covered in pistachio parsley pesto were a great idea. The buratta cheese and prosciutto appetizer with marinated peppers is always a favorite, and the cheese was silky and smooth. But it just didn’t wow me. And while the mac & cheese with chorizo, ham and manchego was yummy, the ricotta gnocchi was just bland. The crunchy texture of the chestnuts didn’t help the dish at all. Again, I couldn’t help but compare it to Evan Kleiman’s amazing ricotta gnocchi at Angeli Caffe, which we served at our wedding. Her buttery gnocchi is so wonderful that eating it is almost an orgasmic experience. This gnocchi inspired in me a Larry David-like expression of ambivalence, which frankly, I don’t know how to spell. “Eehhhh?” That’s the closest I can get.

Of course, I’d rather have a mediocre starter and side dish than a bad entree, and the entrees definitely delivered. So did the desserts. The chocolate obsession was filled with a river of gewey molten chocolate.  Mmmm, mmmm. It was almost identical to a dessert I ate at the Four Seasons in Bora Bora two weeks ago after winning a four-night stay there as a door prize at a party. (Mom always said I was lucky.) Given Andersson’s Four Seasons background, I suspect he knew he had a winner on his hands with that one. The raspberry sorbet was also delish.

I’m not going to be too quick to judge AK just yet. Andersson is Swedish, and I have yet to try his Swedish dishes, such as the meatballs and the salmon gravlax — both of which the Los Angeles Times food critic raved about in her recent review. So I’ll be back to AK, I’m sure.  On a warmer night next time. And perhaps I’ll try the wine. — Jenny

AK Restaurant + Bar: 1633 Abbot Kinney Blvd, Venice, 310-392-6644.

I must have walked past China Beach Vietnamese Bistro dozens of times without going in. It’s an unassuming little spot right next door to a corner liquor store and across the street from the Canal Club in Venice. I have always wondered whether it could be one of those divey, under-the-radar finds. Given that I live only a couple blocks away and have never heard any of my neighbors talk about it or seen any of them in there, I didn’t have high hopes. Still, you never know. Vic and I wanted to try something different, and we didn’t want to have to get in the car. I looked the place up on Yelp, and the reviews were unusually mixed, a five-star review, followed by a one star, averaging three overall. I asked my sister, a fellow Venetian, if she’d been there, and she said the soups were OK. So we decided to check it out.

I honestly wish we hadn’t. We spent only $22 on dinner, and it still feels like we were cheated. One Yelper had raved about the five spiced chicken so I ordered a plate that also included a fried egg, a salad and some rice. Vic ordered chicken pho, which is the Vietnamese version of chicken noodle soup. I must confess, Vietnamese is probably my least favorite of all the Asian cuisines I’ve tried. I have happily eaten my way through China, Thailand and Cambodia, and I’m a fan of Japanese, Korean, Indian, Singaporean, Malaysian and, occasionally, Filipino cuisine. Vietnamese food has always seemed a bit bland in comparison. There are exceptions, such as the excellent pho (tripe and all) at Pho Hua in Mountain View, Calif., or even the nice bowl of chicken pho I had earlier this year at a place named Absolutely Phobulous (seriously) when I was stuck in Encino after a meeting. But even when I lived just a couple blocks away from a Vietnamese neighborhood in Chicago, I only ate there two or three times, and in more than a decade in So Cal, I have never made the drive to the OC for the best stuff in the LA area.

Regardless of whether you’re a Vietnamese food buff or a novice, though, it’s hard to imagine how anyone could enjoy the chicken I was served. I don’t know what gives chicken that rubbery quality. Overcooking, maybe? Whatever it is, they have mastered the technique at China Beach. The chicken must not have been made to order because it came out in about about 5-10 minutes. The menu described the chicken as falling off the bone, but I had a hard time tearing the tough meat free. The side salad was basically bland iceberg lettuce with some carrot slices. The rice was … well … a pile of plain white rice. Vic wasn’t as unhappy with his pho. He described it as “standard” and “passable.” When I tasted it, the broth seemed too sweet, but he didn’t seem to mind.

In case you are thinking of checking it out for yourself, be forewarned, the tiny parking lot is a nightmare. There’s almost no way to head south when exiting that little lot. You’re better off parking somewhere else and walking. Better yet, take my advice and skip it altogether. It’s not worth the hassle. — Jenny

Vic and I finally checked out the newest hot spot on Abbot Kinney in Venice, Gjelina, which opened over the summer. We walked in without a reservation at 7 p.m. on a recent weeknight and had no trouble snagging a seat the the communal table. (If we had arrived an hour later, we would have been among the masses hovering behind us… waiting.) I enjoyed the rustic communal table because we actually got a chance to meet and mingle with some of our neighbors. In fact, the couple sitting next to us offered us a slice of their gruyere, arugula and carmelized onion pizza, which was delicious. Not Mozza delicious, mind you, but tasty nonetheless. “Very French onion soupy,” as Vic put it.

In fact, everything we tried at Gjelina was satisfying, and I loved the experience of the place almost as much as the food. It was full of artists, casual chic Venice hipsters, even a couple families with kids. One of the guys down at the other end of the communal table compared it to AOC. It reminded me of being in New York. A real neighborhood spot. The design of the place is gorgeous. The floor is made of brick, while the ceiling is reclaimed wood from a barn. The walls are painted and decorated with a delicate, laser-etched design. There’s a beautiful back patio with a fire pit and a window onto the kitchen. Next to that is a tiny nook of a lounge with a lamp made from wine bottles. Even the bathroom fixtures are cool. Guys behind the bar chop vegetables plucked fresh that day from the farmer’s market and make salads beneath an unusual lamp featuring an variety of odd-sized lightbulbs. The restaurant is mainly lit by candles in the evening, giving it a nice glow.

We started with a bottle of organic French Syrah, a Chateau Messiac Minervois from 2006. At $42, it was actually the least expensive bottle on the list. The only bottle they offered for less ($38) was sold out. In this economy, they really should have a few more affordable bottles (and glasses) for those who have seen their 401Ks cut in half. The restaurant is still doing such a brisk business, they probably don’t feel the need to cut anyone a break. (Note to Gjelina, it’s tough to stay the hot spot forever. We’re in an economic crisis, dammit. Wake up, and help us out a little, here.)

For dinner we ordered the grilled raddichio, bacon, fontina and tomato confit pizza from the wood-burning oven. A guy sitting at the far end of our communal table described it as “a saltine of a pizza,” and I must admit, it did have an impossibly thin crust. I could practically see through it, and I suspect that even the strictest low-carb dieter could eat this pizza. It was served with a side plate containing small piles of crushed red pepper, grated Parmesan cheese and dried oregano. The flavor was wonderfully smoky, both from the bacon and the wood-burning oven. (Beware: The couple sitting next to us mistook a woodchip from the embers that made its way onto their plate for a French fry and bit into it.)

Vic and I also shared the Sonoma duck leg confit with cavalo nero, lentils and currant vinegar. The duck was sweet and juicy and the lentils quite vinegary. It was an unusual combination, but it worked. When we finished, Vic was still hungry so he tried to flag down the waitress to order more. By then, the place was so packed that it took at least 10 minutes to find her. We capped off the evening with Jidori chicken livers and onions on grilled bread. It’s not the traditional way to end a meal, but Vic is carniverous and needed a little more meat on his bones. He actually grew up eating liver and onions, and while I find chicken liver a little mealy, he gave the dish — and the entire evening — a big thumbs up.

******

We made our way back for a second Gjelina visit last week, when my parents were in town. This time, our group of six arrived even earlier and took over most of the communal table. My sister looked at the menu and complained that there wasn’t a single item except the pizza that contained a word she didn’t know. Pretentious, was her thought. Personally, I don’t mind an interesting menu because I like to ask questions and learn something new. But she does have a point. There’s also no sign outside the restaurant, which always seems pretentious to me.

Starting with the charcuterie plate (pictured above), we enjoyed duck prosciutto, sweet soppresatta and bresaola that were all so thinly sliced, they melted on your tongue. Split between six people, the portions could have been more substantial, although we ordered so much it didn’t matter. We followed that with a divine salad of arugula with marinated tomato, bacon and ricotta salata. All I can say is, yum. This is not your typical skinny gal salad. Next we tried three more pizzas: a margherita with gioia mozzarella and burrata, another with mushroom, goat cheese and truffle oil, and finally one with lamb sausage, zucchini, tomato, asiago and pecorino. Mom’s clear favorite was the mushroom (pictured below), although I thought the smell of truffle oil was so overwhelming that the taste was almost a letdown compared to the scent. The lamb sausage was my top pick, and Vic chose the margherita. So you pretty much can’t go wrong with the pizzas.

On to the vegetable section of the menu, the braised collard greens with smoked tomato were too salty for Mom, although just right for someone with a salt tooth like myself. In fact, on the second visit to Gjelina, I realized one of the reasons I liked the place so much is that almost every dish is finished with a liberal dash of sea salt. The grilled raddichio with balsamic and sea salt was a smoky, salty winner all around. Even our decadent butterscotch pots de creme for dessert had sea salt on top to cut what otherwise would have been a cloying degree of sweetness. For those who are salt sensitive, prepare for swollen ankles.

My sister’s favorite dish of the night was the roasted beets with greens, walnut oil and goat cheese — pungent and vinegary. My father and my sister’s boyfriend voted for the PEI mussels (tiny, but nice and plump) with chorizo, tomato, white wine and grilled bread. The dish had a garlicky bite, and again, the flavor combinations were a little odd, but that wasn’t a bad thing. I also enjoyed the wood roasted brandade — one of those pesky words that needed an explanation. It was basically a salt cod dip with cream and potato whose flavor the waiter described as similar to clam chowder. This comfort food dish was a bit heavy for some on Thanksgiving week, but I enjoy anything that’s the food equivalent of a soft blanket. We washed it all down with a 2005 Red Rhone and capped off the evening with a cranberry apple tartin that had firm chunks of fresh fruit. Not too cooked and not too sweet.

I’d be remiss not to mention that my mother thought our server was extremely appealing.  “Did you get a look at our waiter?” she asked halfway through the evening. “Soooo cute!”

“I didn’t think he was so cute,” my Dad huffed. Nevertheless, we all walked out feeling fat and happy. – Jenny

Gjelina, 1429 Abbot Kinney Blvd., 310-450-1429

After all of our posts of late about strange meats and speed eating, I thought I’d toss one to the veggie crowd. Walking along the Venice Beach boardwalk moments ago, I stumbled across a little hole in the wall called the Fruit Gallery just off Oceanfront Walk at One Westminster Ave. Waiting inside like a gleaming chest of treasure was a bowl full of fresh mangosteens, priced at $2 a piece. I haven’t eaten the sweet and delicious fruit since I was in Thailand in 2005. The U.S. just dropped its ban on mangosteen imports last summer, and this is the first I have seen of them since then. Despite being a bit pricey for a single piece of fruit, I must admit I gasped with glee and ate one on the spot. (The shell was hard, but the owner was gracious enough to cut it open for me. Memories of lying on the beach in Koh Phangan immediately ensued.) The Fruit Stand also sells smoothies, juices, salads, wheatgrass and ginger shots, as well as vegan desserts. The acai smoothie with granola was refreshing and wonderful, but nothing can beat the mighty mangosteen! – Jenny

They don’t have a website yet, but you can call the Fruit Stand at 310-452-3034 or e-mail fruitgallery@yahoo.com.