AUTHOR: Hot Plate DATE: 8:34:00 AM ----- BODY: It seems lately that most of my eating has been in and around New York City, so I was grateful and excited about the opportunity to take it across the country to Los Angeles. Though the trip was business, the business revolved around attending the Western Foodservice and Hospitality Expo for three days. Surrounded by sugar free cheesecakes, low carb tortillas, pre-made margeritas, fried seafood and soy chorizo, I wondered if I would have room to taste any food outside of the Convention Center. Fortunately we had been invited to eat at Cafe Pinot, one of Joachim Spichal's nearly 30 restaurants , by the executive chef Mark Gold. After a day long cocktail party where the h'ors d'oevres abound but you leave hungrier than you came, I showered away the best that the foodservice industry had to offer and hopped over to Cafe Pinot excited to eat sitting down. Located in downtown Los Angeles, home to mostly office building and the Standard Downtown, Cafe Pinot sits in front of the Public Library gardens and has a large outside dining area where we settled in the shadows of LA's skyscrapers and beneanth the glow of our heat lamp. Though we perused the menu, our meal had already been decided by Chef Gold, who came out to greet us with great enthusiasm. A native of Brooklyn, he confided that he had started cooking after repeatedly being forced to eat his grandmother's spaghetti and ketchup. One look at the menu and I could see that we were a long way from the Brooklyn of his youth. Though I take every meal seriously, there is something about a tasting menu, especially when paired with different wines, that elevates the dining experience to a new level. A tasting meal becomes an event, an activity, even entertainment in the right company and with the right chef. One reason I usually avoid tasting menus is because I loathe to eat the same thing as my dining companions. However, with five or more courses and inquisitive dinner mates, one can get a true sampling of a chefs abilities and can share the experience in depth. As I pondered the implication of the meal we were about to digest, I was pleased to see that the sashimi of Japanese yellowtail I had been eyeing on the menu was chosen as our first course. Garnished with a yuzu granita and a ponzu sauce, the cool pearly fish slid down my throat with a sweet spiciness and a deliciously satisfying beginning. I had retained a copy of the menu to examine from where the Chef's inspiration came. The offerings ranged from a typical caesar salad to a more adventurous organic beet salad with goat cheese and meyer lemon vinaigrette. I saw a sense of humor not only in the descriptions such as "Of course we have a simple green salad with garnished crouton" and "Our soup today is a sweet summer corn with a grilled cheese sandwich" but also in the choice of ingredients with a foie served with roasted marshmallow, a breast of duck with forbidden rice and a filet of beef with licorice braised carrots. Each dish listed both the origin, the preparation and the details of the ingredients, leaving my mouth watering for what might come next and wondering whether it would live up to its literal incarnation. The menu indeed delivered. Our eyes lit up as our servers approached with the aforementioned seared foie gras nestled in a bed of toasted homemade marshmallow with a graham cracker cookie and hint of pomegranate seed. I have since described this in detail to others eliciting doubtful grins, but trust me, it worked. The combination of flavors and textures tasted like a chewy s'mores with the marshmallow perfectly crisp from the fire melting onto a graham cracker, but in place of Hershey's chocolate was a glistening piece of foie gras. The pairing of Chateau Reusuac Sauterne mixed with the sourness of the pomegranate cutting into the dense syrupy sweetness of the wine. At this point I was done, but knowing that many courses were to follow I delighted in the pleasure that I saw in the chefs eyes as the foie quickly disappeared from our plates and we sang the praises of the unique preparation. What followed included a lean cod with broccoli two ways, roasted and pureed topped with homemade raisins, a Kobe beef with crispy garlic and candied orange and to seal the meal before dessert a Spanish plate highlighting a locally cured soppresetta, marcona almonds, three slivers of manchego and a serrano ham bruschetta. We devoured the delicate cod delighting in the depth that the broccoli took on next to the juicy raisins. I imagined the kitchen nurtuting these raisins from grape to purply dryness and then laying them on the cod once they had reached their desired state. The Kobe beef was prepared using the cap of the filet, a cut of the meat that most kitchens discard, but that Chef Gold discovered was even more flavorful and succulent than the traditional cuts used at most restaurants. Part of the pleasure of our meal, which was slowly reaching hour three, came from watching Chef Gold take such pride in each creation that appeared from his kitchen and each ingredient that contributed to making it complete. As we nibbled on Spanish almonds and chewed on the shiney fat of the soppresetta, he appeared from the back with the actual soppresetta in hand, measuring at least 30 inches, and proceeded to launch into a discussion about the producer and origination of said meat. As we lingered over a curranty glass of Zinfandel, a delicious plate with a caramel malt and toasted mocha cookie appeared. Though satiated and stuffed beyond good reason, I threw caution and my waistline to the wind snapping up the cookie and sucking down the malted through a straw that seemed to concentrate the milky caramel thickness in a dense slush as it traveled to meet the other flavors in my stomach. I wondered what the Spanish manchego might say to the kobe beef straight off the farm from Snake River, or would the homemade raisins look at the Japanese yellow tail and wonder who had invited him to this party. Did the foie gras even know what a caramel malted was? Though from different corners of the world and kitchen everything we had eaten appeared united on the plate and seemed to exist peacefully in my stomach. The garden grew darker with the flickering of heat lamps and candles signaling that after three hours our time here was coming to a close. Dining at Cafe Pinot had been full of lessons. I had learned to embrace the experience of the tasting menu and the ability to share food while eating the same thing. I had learned how one chefs youth full of ketchup and spaghetti had spawned a well honed talent full of culinary creativity, passion and ambition. Most importantly I felt as if this kitchen in LA, where international ingredients created harmony from their diversity, could teach the world a lesson or two. Cafe Pinot 700 West Fifth Street Los Angeles, CA 90071 213 239 6500 --------