404 Not Found.Spanish can 'o' sardines, served with salad, house churned butter and grilled bread at. It is hard to imagine Walter Manzke without his pig's ear, Nancy Silverton without her bread or Suzanne Goin primobolan neo her short ribs. But until I visitedthe grand neo Moroccan lounge restaurant in the space long occupied by Dar Maghreb, I had rarely seen a chef rub up against an primobolan neo with quite as much passion as Octavio moobs to pecs shows a simple can of sardines. Home restaurant in HollywoodSee all related8 They are good sardines, caught off the human growth hormone can be produced by coast of Spain, although closer to the ones you pick up at a European deli than to the vintage sardines you took back in your luggage the last time you visited Cannes. Becerra, the Joachim Splichal prot Testosterone Uk Primobolan neo who primobolan neo such a good run at Palate Food and Wine, drizzles the oil on grilled bread, making a fairly fishy version of fettunta.
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Spanish can 'o' sardines, served with salad, house churned butter and grilled bread at. It is hard to imagine Walter Manzke without his pig's ear, Nancy Silverton without her bread or Suzanne Goin without her short ribs. But until I visited , the grand neo Moroccan lounge restaurant in the space long occupied by Dar Maghreb, I had rarely seen a chef rub up against an ingredient with quite as much passion as Octavio Becerra shows a simple can of sardines.
Home restaurant in HollywoodSee all related8 They are good sardines, caught off the north coast of Spain, although closer to the ones you pick up at a European deli than to the vintage sardines you took back in your luggage the last time you visited Cannes.
Becerra, the Joachim Splichal prot Testosterone Uk Range who had such a good run at Palate Food and Wine, drizzles the oil on grilled bread, making a fairly fishy version of fettunta.
He chops the fish slightly, and puts it back in the can with a pinch of a tangy chopped herb blend, kind of a chermoula. To the side of the can is one tiny dish of soft butter and another of coarse salt. A small bowl holds a lemony herb salad, heavy on the mint. And the flavors are vivid, almost vibrating between the funk of the fish oil and the brightness of the herbs sardines in a can, but so much more.
There are blues singers and trance DJs instead of belly dancers, chartreuse swizzles instead of mint tea, and blistered shishito peppers instead of marinated carrots.
You will find hints of cumin and coriander in practically everything, unexpected smears of hummus or harissa, and allusions to everything the eastern Mediterranean has to offer. But there is nothing on Becerra's menu that you'd find in one of Paula Wolfert's cookbooks, and there is an almost willful avoidance of the sort of updated tagines and couscous dishes you might expect to find in a restaurant that looks so much like a grand salon in Marrakech.
Where a concoction of crisp duck, pickled cherries and pur eggplant might seem like something Becerra would tuck into warka dough for a new wave bestila, he piles it onto a flatbread with Asian herbs as a kind of Chinese Arab pizza. Salmon cured to resemble the Armenian meat basturma is served with fried potato latke balls and cr fra and ends up tasting a lot like lox, bagels and cream cheese. A whole sea bass that might be stewed Primobolan Powder Conversion in a tagine in the Moroccan manner or even fried crisp and served with tahini and crunchy pita, as it would be in Lebanon, is deep fried and served with a Hong Kong dose of soy, chile and Asian vegetables.
I have no idea what the David Chang style steamed bun with pork belly and kumquats is doing on the menu, nor the chicken satay, nor the arancini with pickled walnuts, nor the crunchy shrimp toast served with Thai herbs, Vietnamese fish sauce and fried quail eggs, although I like them all well enough. It would probably be unseemly for a cocktail intensive restaurant even to pretend to identify with a strictly halal cuisine, but it surely says something that the most Moroccan flavor at the restaurant may come from the delicious if simple white wine from Ouled Thaleb, from native Faranah grapes grown in vineyards just outside Casablanca.
But this isn't Rabat, it's Hollywood. You really did just overhear men trying to pick up a supermodel in six different languages, none of which seem to be her native Estonian. And while you get the feeling that Becerra and his chef de cuisine, Kevin Luzande, aren't trying to rewrite the book Mesterolone Cycle of Los Angeles cookery here, they are doing light, amusing food, well enough prepared, in a fairly spectacular setting of Moorish arches, elaborate tile and good booze.
So there is the "porn bread," an oozing cylinder fortified with cheddar and bacon, which the waiter eases from the length of galvanized water pipe in which it was baked; and toasted bread layered with sheep ricotta, persimmons and honey; seared scallops with pur cauliflower and brown butter; and Jerusalem artichokes baked with strong, melty Raclette cheese and garnished with surprisingly delicious smoked grapes.
Big spenders may go for the giant seafood plateau, but if you just want oysters, there are oysters, Kusshis and Shigokus and Fanny Bays, a bit warm perhaps, that come with three separate, Middle Eastern spiced mignonette sauces that you will forget to use. The halibut ceviche with slivers of Asian pear is nice, served with just enough tongues of Santa Barbara uni to keep things interesting.
There is also bluefin tuna tartare, the presence of which is unconscionable on an otherwise progressive menu. Am I going to suggest you get another can of sardines instead? You know me too well. Longtime Los Angeles chef Octavio Becerra doing light, amusing food, well enough prepared, in a fairly spectacular setting.