Sensory Overload: The Urasawa Experience

If Urasawa is not what a perfect dining experience should be, then I doubt anything else in LA could be. Granted, the cost is prohibitively expensive, and if I were to come back more than once, it would weigh more heavily on my review. But for a one-time visit, I felt good dropping $540 for the six-hour dinner. I suppose the cost just didn't bother me because I knew exactly what I was getting into fully anticipated handing over my paycheck to the Urasawa Corporation.

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Hiro in intense concentration

The most common response I receive when describing my meal is always, "Was it worth it?" To most people, the idea of paying this much for a dinner is outrageous. But to them I reply that it is precisely that type of thinking that makes it so expensive. It isn't just a dinner, it's an experience. Why would you pay for a concert when you can download the song for a dollar? On the surface, if you view dinner as just a form of sustenance, you're doing yourself a disfavor. A life of subsistence is not a life worth living. People take pleasure in different ways; this happens to be my vice. But hopefully I can convey to those who don’t already know the multi-faceted pleasures of eating.

Throughout the night, I constantly found myself rubbing my palms and fingers against the silky smooth blonde wood of the bar. The attention paid to this counter was indicative of the meal to come. No varnish, no sealant, this wood was sanded daily to a soft finish. It was a theme I noticed throughout the night, elegance in simplicity. All ingredients served a purpose; the experience was sensory on all levels. Whereas most use of gold leaf is ostentatious and completely unnecessary, its effect as a visual stimulant spoke to the complete sensory arousal in this meal. Too often sushi is too flashy, especially in American rolls, monstrous creations often appropriately named Godzilla. Elegance in simplicity comes with care and expertise, not with a squirt of rehydrated “eel sauce” and hastily battered tempura. Our first course had the weighty responsibility of setting the standard for the night, but the toro senmai-maki demonstrated a graceful interplay of seared tuna belly wrapped monkfish liver, garnished with shiso, topped with caviar and dashed with ponzu. Layer after layer of flavors hit me, as each ingredient harmonized yet played its own melody. Like the successful concerto, culminating in rich euphony, this was a great way to start the meal.


First course: Toro Senmai-maki

Even if it's not his intention, Chef Hiro Urasawa is an entertainer. The fact that this is dinner and a show helps to soften the wallet blow. With your seat in front of the master himself, you are privy to watching the exquisite knifework and attention to detail. Had I not been seating in my prime spot, I wouldn't have enjoyed the experience at quite the same level. He answered our questions cheerfully, and I could tell when he took out his prime Ichigin junmai daiginjo sake that his passion is really in his craft. Our Cristal failed to impress him; he’s seen all manner of victuals over-hyped. It was Brian’s bottle of Nihonbashi 2007 Gold Medal winner sake that made Hiro’s ears perk. I would’ve scoffed at any hip hop glamorizing this bottle, but it was music to my ears to hear Hiro exclaim “so good” after a taste. That was how the entire evening felt; he was enjoying it right along with us, talking, joking, sharing.


Hiro displaying his Ichigin Sake

While there were several dishes I've never encountered before, most of the menu was fairly familiar for a regular Japanese food consumer. Of course, it was the highest quality examples of said items. I didn't mind that there was nothing so rare I would find no where else. The Saga beef, wagyu from the Saga prefecture was unique enough by itself. No Kobe here; I’m convinced now that Saga is the only way to go. The beef, whether seared lightly on top of sushi or braised for three-days with snow pea, had tenderness without sacrificing meaty flavor. Carved from the block of cow behind Hiro, the meat could be chewy in one moment, and melting the next. Texture influences so much of the sensation of flavor that we too often forget that the touch of your lips, tongue and teeth are integral to the eating experience.


Seared Saga Beef Readied for Sushi


Three-day braised Saga beef

I'm certain that the menu would be quite different coming here at another time during the year. For our early Spring dinner, the variety was not quite so extensive. One seasonal difference—the shabu shabu course of amaebi, Saga beef and foie gras came in metal bowls instead of the summertime paper. A quick dip in the broth and the shrimp was ready. Sweet as is, a splash of dashi helped bring out flavor depth. The unctuous beef and goose liver inundated the soup, making the resulting broth richer than many French stocks and so full of umami that I hesitated to swallow, lest one mouthful be gone. As indescribable as umami is as a flavor, I would direct you to Urasawa’s shabu shabu for a demonstration of its full potential.


Individual shabu shabu

The orchids along the wall are supposedly hand-picked by Hiro. I’ve heard of chefs personally picking the fish for the day, but Hiro goes beyond the food. He knows that he has staked his reputation on more than just the food; he has to make everything beautiful. While “stunning” is not usually a word used to describe Japanese food, the hand-carved ice block with Spanish toro, Kyushu tai and Toyama kanpachi flanked by a clean white orchid and bright orange slivers of Kyoto carrot was much more stunning in person than in the pictures. Colors abound, the taste almost took a backseat to visual appeal in this course…almost.


Sashimi platter

Most of the night was marked by a myriad of aromas, sometimes in front of me, sometimes wafting in from behind the curtain. The smell of the shiitake mushroom, grilling on the back-counter made me anxious for the renowned shiitake sushi, the only place I’ve heard it served before. Though the flavors of the fungus and the rice were slightly incompatible, the smell of wood permeated my nose. Yet this course paled in olfactory indulgence compared to the kani miso korayaki grilled hairy crab innards topped with uni. Each diner got his own hibachi with a simmering shell. Each bursting bubble sent waves of crab aroma into the air. My favorite course of the night.


Simmering hairy crab

We got to walk behind the bar after dinner and witness a huge kitchen for such a small front. I was somewhat dumbstruck by the massive mechanism behind the scenes, pushing forward twenty-six dishes or so to ten anxious diners. Come to Urasawa with an open mind and ready body. Hiro’s dishes hit all your senses, putting your body at ease so that your mind can enjoy. With your head floating in the Nirvana of culinary delight, you can truly forget the weight of your wallet.

Special thanks to Yoko for providing the photographs. Thanks to Kevin for his notes and borrowing his kick-off phrase. To all else who joined me on this adventure, I appreciated you sharing it with me.

For the play by play, please visit Kevin or Kung Food Panda's blogs.

Urasawa
218 N Rodeo Dr,
Beverly Hills, 90210
(310) 247-8939
$350 omakase pp

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Where Concert Patrons Go: Patina

For my birthday, my girlfriend surprised me with a dinner downtown. We drove up to the Disney concert hall and I knew right away where we were going.

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As the namesake restaurant of the Patina Group, which includes such LA eateries as Cafe Pinot, Nick and Stef's, I had high expectations. First of all, what is a patina? It's the oxidized change in color on bronze over time. The reason the Statue of Liberty looks green--false patina. It's a concept I considered when we entered. The small dining room nestled into the Frank Gehry concert hall was comfortably lit and quiet for a late Sunday reservation. We arrived just as the show was starting; an hour earlier and it may have been packed. Our French waiter, yes he spoke French, explained the specials and signaled for the bread cart. Bacon bread--already a good sign.


The amuse of white asparagus and aioli paired with a hot carrot ginger soup certainly surprised me in contrast. The crunchy asparagus in a creamy sauce paired with the soup well, though I expected the carrots to have much more sweetness.


Although this was my birthday, the tasting menu didn't offer anything eye-popping enough. My girlfriend chose the agnolotti filled with buffala ricotta with English peas, braised scarlet turnip, and speck ham. I don't know if it's just a coincidence or if it's a generally accepted practice, but pairing agnolotti with ham is an incredible idea. David LeFevre of Water Grill had served a spectacular dish of agnolotti at the 5x5 dinner. The buffalo cheese gave the delicate pasta a heartiness otherwise absent in the thin wonton-like skins. I was puzzled by the presentation of what looked like a green lawn. The speck ham, what looks like bacon, is actually more like a smokier panchetta from an area between Austria and Italy.





For my first course, I cheated and chose the Quartet of the Sea consisting of four immaculate square plates locked into formation. From the top: smoked trout blini, seared scallop with cipollini onions, lobster citrus salad, and tuna tartare with pickled cauliflower. The trout was much more refreshing than the all-too-often used salmon in this preparation. Grapefruit and orange garnished the lobster salad, though the color reminded me too much of ambrosia (a turnoff). I am a huge fan of seared scallops, and this was no exception. I also see cippolini onions so often at these kind of dinners. Apparently, they have a higher sugar content and the small, flat shape is conducive to roasting. Tuna tartare has been done to death, though the intensely tart cauliflower gave it a contrasting crunch that was innovative.


What makes a veal chop "authentic"? According to our waiter, grain-fed veal is "authentic." But isn't that how all veal is fed? My girlfriend's authentic veal chop with sauteed sweetbreads, maple syrup glazed cipollini onions, and chanterelles tasted better than it looked. The mushrooms were richly buttered and had enough bite to savor each forkful.


One of the reasons that my significant other chose Patina was for the game menu, which varies depending on availability. That night, I ordered the rack of venison with braised chestnuts, celeriac mousseline, and a pink peppercorn quince chutney. Though the smell of the plate had all the intensity of game, the flavor was quite a bit tamer. I'm familiar with the practice of combining gamey meats with fruity compotes, but I always feel like my preference for gamer is much wilder than the average palate. With the exception of elk, gamey is always my choice.



Though my girlfriend rounded off her meal with a coconut soup with a floating island of pistachio ice cream and spherified mango juice "gnocchi" I asked to see the cheese cart instead. We enjoyed the presentation of her dessert, the components sitting in a saucer that's subsequently filled by the waiter. Those little flourishes certainly make the meal more memorable. Having consumed a pack of Red Vines per day at work, I had enough sugar in my system. I settled on a triple-creme brie, a hard Italian pecorino, and a strong roquefort. My waiter actually wasn't much help in explaining the cheeses. By this time in the meal, he had seemed to ignore our table and favored the French speaking tables instead. I hate to perpetuate stereotypes, but the rude French waiter certainly still persists.



As a post-dessert treat, we received a tray of mignardises and a napkin basket of chocolate and vanilla Milano cookies. From left to right, I think the plate consisted of a cocoa nib, passionfruit gelee, orange marshmallow, cashew twill tuile, truffle, and carrot macron. I could eat a million macarons, except they're always so expensive. Does anyone mass-produce these awesome almond pastries?

Stuffed and finished with the food portion of our meal, the manager was kind enough to take us on a tour of the kitchen. Unfortunately, Joachim Splinchal wasn't in the kitchen, but I met his sous chef Santiago instead. He explained the various prep areas of the rather large kitchen. It looked straight out of my Culinary Institute of America textbook. What struck me the most was that the kitchen was almost half the size of the dining room and still heavily staffed.

My overall impression of Patina was that I didn't feel like I belonged there. It caters to the concert hall patrons, the stuffy old white men. As out of place as I was, I noticed an Asian man scurrying his family out from a dinner too expensive to bring children. That's when it hit me. If patinas are meant to convey antiquity, this restaurant definitely has that old-world feel. Patina's certainly not part of the hot LA dining scene, but it could be a dependable standby. Plus a Michelin star doesn't hurt.

Patina
141 South Grand Ave
Downtown, 90012
(213) 972-3331
About $200 for the meal...and $8 for parking

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Do Horses Have Plumes? Well They Do in Saratoga

The Plumed Horse
(408) 867-4711
14555 Big Basin Way
Saratoga, CA 95070
$115 Tasting Menu

We came with a purpose. My mother, brother and I came to have the tasting menu; my dad and aunt were just along for the ride. We were not dismayed by the $115 price for a seven-course meal. We were here to eat well.

After an $8 million renovation of an old Silicon Valley work-horse, the new restaurant is now designed for modern elegance in a beautiful dining room and bar. The onyx bar serves a $50 martini next to the fire place and lounge area. I guess that's how they're going to recomp their costs. Separating the bar from the dining room is a four-story glass wine cellar holding over 24,000 bottles of a Wine Spectator approved wine list. The intricate glass work for the lights in the room changed colors periodically, going from a subtle green, to lavender, then a soft white. While visually simulating, it made for difficult food photos. The champagne cart, liquor cart and cheese cart were ready to stop by each table at a moments notice. In fact, the first thing that happens upon seating is an offering of their extensive list of sparkling wines from all over the world.

An army of waiters, busers, runners, sommelier and maitre'd stood by ready to answer every request. Water glasses were always kept full and napkins were folded whenever a patron arose. It always pleases me to see restaurants that give out black napkins for people wearing dark clothing to avoid the lint from the white napkins. To me, that thin black napkin is what characterizes truly high-class service. With each course, a stream of waiters each carrying one plate surrounded the table so that they could present it all at once. A little excessive, since it took five waiters to deliver each course, but a giddy thrill at the same time.

I ordered a glass of pinot grigio for my meal. It was probably around $12 per glass, but it was a solid wine, especially speaking as someone who doesn't particularly like wine. My aunt said her Manhattan was excellent and she has been drinking them for twenty years. Knowing that, I wouldn't mind stopping in at the bar for a drink by the fireplace. The sommelier seemed a little young, but he was friendly and talkative. He does much to put you at ease with the vast wine list. Not the snobby French type I expected, but genuine and relatable.


Caviar and Ahi Tuna, quail egg, brioche toast

Ahi Tuna and Foie Gras, foie gras torchon and mustard fruits

Our first course was Tsar Nicolai ostera caviar on a bridge of brioche toast over a quail egg and ahi tuna tartare. I have had caviar before, but nothing this good. The tartare was a bit tart, but didn't seem to have any complexity. It was good tuna, but I wanted some more flavors rather than just the fish, especially since the next course is also tuna. Sure ahi tuna's a solid fish, but I don't need to eat it twice in one meal. The second course was seared tuna with an inlaid foie gras torchon and mustard fruits. This was my first experience with any type of foie gras, even if it was only as a torchon. It didn't do much to dazzle me. The thick texture contrasted well with the tuna and the sweet mustard fruits contrasted with the savory foie gras. Unfortunately, the tastes were so far apart that it was hard to bring them together.


Foie Gras and Onion Souffle, Armagnac prunes

The third course of the tasting menu was served with the first course for my father and aunt. He got the crab bisque, which tasted fresh and had a pleasant crustacean flavor. She had the porcini mushroom soup with a piece of foie gras in the center. The soup was rich, but not as rich as the foie gras. It felt like butter and didn't taste like much to be honest. On the tasting menu, we had the chef's signature foie gras and onion souffle served with a fricassee of Armagnac prunes. As a souffle it had good texture, but the taste was completely dominated by the onions. It resembled a puffy French onion soup and tasted like it too.


Hawaiian Walu, onion soubise, braised beef cheek

Poached Rib Eye "Pot au Feu," garlic flan, bone marrow dumpling

Roast Duck Breast, foie gras, white peach

Wild Venison, piquillo pepper, candied yams

Our fourth course was the Hawaiian walu fish with braised beef cheek. I can see how the two worked together, the beef cheek being more heavily flavored compared to the butterfish. It was one of my favorite courses of the night. The chef demonstrated his respect for balance in flavors and textures that excels far beyong the one-dimensional tastes of the typical meal. For the fifth course, we had a poached center-cut ribeye with bone marrow dumpling and garlic flan. While the two white lumps on my plate weren't very appetizing, the steak was tender and cooked to a perfect doneness. This was my first experience with poached beef, and I would still prefer some browning. My aunt's duck breast with foie gras and poached peaches was the best duck I've ever had. It tasted hearty, hardly even poultry at all. My dad's venison steak was not too gamy like the venison I've had before. It had just the slightest hint that it was more than just beef. I would highly recommend both the venison and the duck to anyone ordering an entree.


Bone Marrow and Truffle Cheese Fondue, potato croutons

Pain Perdue, camambert cheese, candied kumquat, orange gastrique

Baked California, vanilla ice cream, blueberry sorbet, meringue

Grand Mariner Souffle, sweet & sour yuzu, creme anglaise

Following the beef, we had a course of bone marrow and truffle cheese fondue. I'm not sure what kind of cheese it was, but it came as just a streak on my plate paired with potato croutons. The croutons were extraordinary, soft but flavorful and even better when streaked with the truffle cheese. Next, the entire table received a pre-dessert of peach sorbet with orange foam on top of raspberry gel. I liked how each layer of the dish had a progressively lighter texture. My dessert was a pain perdue similar in texture to French toast, although the flavor was heavier than I preferred. My aunt's baked California with blueberry sorbet and vanilla ice cream topped with toasted meringue made an interesting presentation and a satisfying dessert. My dad's Grand Mariner souffle was sadly too sweet and I was not able to pick out the rest of the flavors. The check came with a cherry gelee and almond candy that was a nice post-dessert finish, as if I needed another course.

After the meal, I talked with Manuel, the maitre'd about the restaurant's recent renovations. He said that they've been open a few months, and recently the Michelin people were there taking pictures and getting copies of the menu. They're hoping for a star come August. Our topic of conversation shifted to the chef Peter Armellino and Manuel asked if I'd like to meet him. Chef Armellino came out and asked me if I was interested in being a chef. I responded that I wanted to be a food writer and he recommended Jeffrey Steingarten for me to read. Previously, he had worked as chef de cuisine at Aqua in San Francisco when it received its two Michelin stars, so I wished him luck for The Plumed Horse too. He was also Traci Jardin's sous chef on her winning appearance on Iron Chef America.

Chef Armellino and Me

Overall, I think the tasting menu made a satisfying meal and that it would have been more expensive eating the same things in the city. However, the ingredients were not too imaginative. As you can tell, they really liked their artisan foie gras. I think it's a reflection of the Saratoga community. The median age is much older than San Francisco and I think they expect to eat that type of food when going out. I have faith that Armellino will be a bigger name in time to come. He seems to understand his ingredients well. I just wish there were more variety of ingredients to understand.