Chances are if you live in Los Angeles and follow the culinary scene here with even a passing interest, you’ve heard about Vespertine. Even before opening in 2017 the restaurant was generating headlines as both official and rumored details leaked to the local and national press. You could put together a neat little BINGO card with commonly-cited words and phrases used to describe the dining experience: “spaceship,” “alien,” and sundry similarly celestial references are used in a typical review of Vespertine. Chef Jordan Kahn (last seen blowing my mom’s mind at Red Medicine some years ago) certainly made many journalists’ jobs easier when GQ quoted him as saying the architectural wonder housing Vespertine, “is a machine artifact from an extraterrestrial planet that was left here like a billion years ago by a species that were moon worshippers.” Seemingly from that one quote, a million Yelp, LA Times, NY Times and other review-ships were launched.
I’ll spare you more of that same heady garbage-speak because no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be a food journalist. Even after eight years of actively trying to expand my palate — dining at some of America’s premier establishments — I can barely even string together words descriptive enough to convey the greatness of the scrambled eggs and fries plate at Patra Burgers. I was crushed when Red Medicine closed. During its run, it was probably my favorite restaurant in all of Los Angeles. And, honestly, when Vespertine opened I thought of it more like how I think of places like Ursawa or Totoraku: gems located in the city of Los Angeles I’ll probably never have the chance to step foot inside. Watching the trailer for Vespertine before its opening reminded me an awful lot of the trailer for Next before it opened. Only Vespertine’s trailer was scored by This Will Destroy You. You can imagine how I might have been elated and frustrated in equal measure. A genre-defying fine-dining spot opens near me, music recorded by one of my favorite bands plays throughout the meal, and who knows if/when I’ll ever get to experience it.
Shockingly, amazingly, I had the opportunity to dine at Vespertine this past weekend. One of the most generous birthday gifts I’ve ever received led me to Culver City on Friday night. I was told that my gift was going to be a meal, but I wasn’t sure where I was being taken. I was told that the vibe was “dressy,” and that I should anticipate a 3-4 hour meal. There were other clues as well, but the only two places that seemed to check all the boxes were Dialogue and Vespertine. My gut said Vespertine, so on Friday morning when I dressed for work I made sure to don my finest alien abduction-themed socks beneath my slacks. Shortly after 8 pm, our Uber rolled up outside the unmistakable exterior that is featured prominently in just about every review of the restaurant I’d read. We approached the valet and were immediately escorted to a garden in the shadow of Eric Owen Moss’ “Waffle” building, with three or four Eno-esque notes (with that unmistakably TWDY tone) emanating from…somewhere. Before I even had time to soak in my surroundings, our evening was underway.
I’m going to try my best to recap the meal. Keep in mind I was terrified of being seen either taking notes or snapping pictures of the meal. I don’t think it’s a big deal as long as you’re not using a flash, but I still felt slightly uncomfortable trying to document things properly. Hence my use of the word “recap,” and not “review.” To put it mildly, this was a totally singular fine dining experience. There is no whimsy like you’ll find in the picnic in the park dish at Eleven Madison Park, you don’t feel like your dining inside of a Faberge egg like you do at Daniel, there are no servers removing cloches in unison like a terrifying synchronized swimming team. To me at least, Vespertine is totally unique. To compare and contrast with other eateries would be trite.
Birch Juice. Listening to the soft thrum of three or four repeated This Will Destroy You notes, we were presented with a glass of birch juice. We were seated on heated stones, and provided with a blanket to share, although it was a relatively warm evening. There was one other couple sitting in the garden at this time. We looked up to see diners being lead between floors of the building via an exterior stairwell. I remarked that I wasn’t even inside yet and I felt like I had Tron’d my way inside Monument Valley (a game in which you navigate a world that defies the laws of physics, soundtracked by a Buddha Machine).
Savory Cookie. After our juice, we were walked to the front door and told to enter the elevator to ascend to Floor 2. Upon exiting we were greeted by Chef Kahn, who welcomed us and wished me a happy birthday before explaining more about the architecture and how our evening would unfold. We were then walked upstairs (via that outside stairwell) to the top floor of the building. Our guide wore all black and small black slippers (as do all the servers). They literally glide from space to space without making a sound. It’s pretty remarkable. Once upstairs (the building has an open roof!) we were seated at a small wooden table. There was a tree limb at the center. We were poured a cup of Douglas Fir Tea and presented with a glass of Aromatized Wine with Redwood and Passionflower. Chef Kahn arrived as we were presented with a large, volcanic rock looking bowl. He described its contents as a Chickpea Emulsion adorned with fresh flowers (a gift from the morning rain), and informed us that the “leaves” on the branch in front of us were actually Giant Kelp and Sea Lettuce “chips,” hence a course of “chips and dip.” A few minutes later another small volcanic looking structure was placed before us. When you opened it, inside was a Savory Cookie topped with burnt onions, black currants, and fresh flowers. Our last small bite was a Garlic leather-wrapped abalone mushroom topped with sheep’s cheese with milk bread and some kind of cream. I think.
When we had finished our tea, wine and snacks, we were walked back to Floor 2 and told to press the “M” button in the elevator. The doors opened into the main dining room. We were seated at a corner booth in a room with maybe 9 or 10 tables. Before arriving at the restaurant it was decided that we would have drink pairings with half of the courses we were served. I’ll do my best to recount what was imbibed along with the food but I didn’t take any pictures of the beverages. Even if diners at other tables had full-on DSLR cameras, my feeling was that it would have been too much to snap so many pictures. Shortly after we were seated the processional of food and drink began. Some of the servers were more amiable than others. Some lingered to discuss a dish or a libation, others simply appeared — like apparitions — to elucidate, then quickly disappeared.
Fresh Peas, Spruce Tips, Lemon Thyme Oil. There was also some kiwi in the bowl. I loved this course, it was green and acidic and a little sweet. The wine pairing here was: Wagner Stempel, Porphyr, Trocken Riesling, Rheinhessen (2016).
Our next dish (not pictured) was presented as Hokkaido scallops, caramelized scallops, bone marrow marmalade, shaved white asparagus, with a broth of yuzu and pine. This is one of the more visually striking dishes you’ll see included with reviews of the restaurant, so google Vespertine and scallops and you can get a close approximation of what it looks like. We were both shocked at how if you caramelize scallops enough they take on a flavor and texture similar to that of bacon bits. It certainly added a “meaty” element to an incredibly light and airy dish. The pairing with this course was Fukucho, “Moon On The Water” Junmai Ginjo sake.
Rice Pudding, Trout Roe, Wildflowers. I could have eaten this all night, and in fact, I ate nearly two servings of it. Am I ashamed that I scraped the bottom of my vessel clean and then attempted to do the same with someone else’s “plate”? Not at all.
Spot Prawn. Roe. Claytonia. Paired with a hibiscus kombucha with a nose that offered one of the most pungent aromas of the evening. Although the menu they emailed us today says otherwise, I could have sworn our server said “spot prawn with pickled spot prawn paste and rose petals”, or “spot prawn with spot prawn paste and pickled rose petals.” Whatever the case may be, we were instructed to eat with our hands and were given moist hand towels with which to clean up afterward. I ate both prawns because, well…I’m a glutton and I like prawns more than someone else does.
Dumb me, I missed my chance to take a photo of what might have been the best dish of the entire meal. The Dungeness Crab with trumpet mushrooms, egg yolk, caramelized yeast, and some kind of magic leaf was outstanding. The crab was sandwiched in between these two oversized brown leaves. We were told to remove the top leaf, scrape the crab and egg and whatnot out of the bottom leaf, and then scrape all the nutrients from the leaf off with our teeth. It was so good. Also, I believe this course was paired with our lone beer of the evening, a Biere de Miel brewed by Off-Color in Chicago called “Eille.” It’s a honey beer with a strong coriander flavor.
Yarrow. Funny, this past week’s episode of Steal This Beer featured a beer made by Wunderkammer’s Vasilios Gletsos made with yarrow. So after just learning about its properties in relation to beer, I now learned about its use on a dinner plate. Here the Yarrow was served alongside Narraganset turkey, endive, turkey bone and black currant jus, chive blossoms, some other kind of blossoms, and turkey skin. The yarrow here was more akin to rosemary or thyme, contrasting the sweetness and fruitiness of the jus. A standout, for sure. The wine pairing for this course was from Santa Barbara: Chanin, Pinot Noir, Bien Nacido Vinyard (2013).
Spanish Turbot, Wild Trumpet Mushrooms, Roasted Strawberries. Around this time I snuck away from the table to use the restroom, which probably requires its own blog entry. To play along with that overwrought/overused metaphor of Vespertine being an alien spacecraft, the bathroom is definitely the heart or the brain of the ship. It is a small, confined space from which indelible warmth flows. The turbot was one of my favorite dishes of the night.
Smoked lamb heart, fresh cheese, puffed quinoa, spices. Our final savory course of the night was lamb heart, which was served in a warmed bowl that that was homey and comforting and rich and decadent. I’ve only ever had heart served Yakitori/Anticuchos style before, so this was a somewhat new iteration for me. I quite enjoyed it. The wine pairing for this course was: Domaine Thillardon, Moulin-A-Vent, Thillardon, Beaujolais (2015). This was my favorite wine of the night.
Black Raspberry, Black Carrot, Meadowsweet, Cream. As much as I used to love the dinner menu at Red Medicine, sometimes the desserts came out looking more avant-garde or unique than the rest of the dishes. So it was to my complete lack of surprise that this bowl appeared before me along with a glass of rosé champagne: Gaston Chiquet, Rosé Premier Cru, Champagne, France.
Roasted Almond Praline, Cucumber, Redwood Ice. Our last official bite of the meal was another stunner, nutty and green, texturally interesting with a warm/cool contrast that I really liked. Served inside a Michelin tire perhaps as a wink-wink to the Michelin Guide that it should return to Los Angeles (just kidding I made that part up). This was paired with a glass of sparkling Redwood Juice.
Ground Floor. Before leaving we were brought to a floating installation on the ground floor with a series of boxes spaced out evenly atop it. We were told that various scents were infused throughout the various spaces in order to both elicit a response from us while dining, and hopefully transport us back to this place and time if and when we come across them in the future. We were told to take our time breathing in the unique scents before leaving. I know one was Palo Santo, the rest were unfamiliar to me. At the end of the line, we were presented with a small bottle of perfume that combined all the aromas into one Vespertine scent.
Oxalis. Cashew. Blackberry. Salty Liquorice. Before leaving we were brought back to the heated stone benches outside. It was dark outside now, but the familiar thrum of This Will Destroy You remained. We were offered some final bites, including biodynamic blackberries, preserved walnuts, cups of ocean tea, and licorice. There was a small card propped up against the candle on the hearth in front of us with my name on it.
Birthday Candle. The ending finished once and for all with a birthday candle. It was an incredibly thoughtful gesture that was completely unexpected. Even more unexpected: After blowing out the candle I was told that it was edible (made of which chocolate and almond). Oh, Vespertine. Your thoughtful gesture – though entirely unnecessary – was greatly appreciated. Also, thank you for making said gesture THE MOST VESPERTINE GESTURE IMAGINABLE. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
As I stated above, I truly cannot compare my meal at Vespertine to that of anywhere else I have ever dined before. Neither the quality of the food nor the ambiance/setting lends itself to being neatly inserted into a “best of” list. I’m also not a critic so it’s not really my place to award or reward one fine dining establishment over any other. What I can say is that, on the whole, this was a night that I will remember as vividly and happily as I do few other significant celebrations and events in my life that have revolved around a meal. My first time visiting Blue Hill At Stone Barns, Ian’s bachelor party dinner/Caligulan food orgy at Au Pied de Cochon, and my 35th birthday at Vespertine are three settings/times/meals that I think I will carry with me for a long time. For someone who — up until ten years ago — only really ate Tombstone pizzas, plain hamburgers, and bland “safe” foods, I like to think I’ve come a long way, both in terms of expanding my horizons and my palate.
If I live another 35 years, I hope I can add to that stable of memories more nights like this one. At the very least, the more culinary adventures like this one I have, the more chances I’ll have to get all snarky and respond, “I eat well” when my friends mock me for all the extravagant dinners I’ve had.
This Will Destroy You – Kitchen [MP3]
“One of seven pieces written for the building itself (and even the space around it), “Kitchen” is the music that diners first hear as they are greeted by Chef Kahn before dinner service begins for the evening. In composing the music for this interaction, THIS WILL DESTROY YOU’s Chris King and Jeremy Galindo sought to convey a warm, hospitable — if not reassuring — tone for listeners that may (or may not) be present elsewhere as they discover and explore the spaces in and around Vespertine’s looming architectural monolith for the remainder of their stay.”
