It took over two years, but I finally got a meal at LA’s infamous Osteria Mozza tonight. It took my mom coming to town and footing the bill (thanks, ma!), and it was everything I had hoped it would be. By far the single best meal I’ve consumed since moving to the west coast, I cannot sing more praise than what I am about to bestow upon this joint. Before I begin, I should just state that the one negative aspect of the meal was our waiter. I don’t know if his apparent smugness/rudeness was a byproduct of how he was raised, or if it was as simple as him not liking my mother, Nicci and myself, but jeez, what a fucking asshole that guy was. He was attentive enough, answered some questions and even went above the call of duty to ensure we could enjoy a non-menu item, but his attitude exuded a sense of…”Oh, look at these poor people who scrounged together enough money to dine here tonight.” Not cool, dude. Even if we really are poor people who scrounged together enough money to dine there tonight.
We were informed by our waiter upon being prodded for our order that the mozzarella tasting menu (listed on the website as a daily item) was not available this evening. I asked if he then had any suggestions if we were to order two mozzarella choices a la carte, and he said he would ask the kitchen if they could make an exception and prepare the tasting plate for us. When he returned to say that they would construct a plate for us, we decided to order.
I’m sure you are aware that most Italian restaurants build their menu around a first and second plate. The first plate is typically pasta based, and the second meat based. Never having eaten at Mozza before, my mother, Nicci and I decided that we would each order one pasta plate, and then the three of us would share two meat plates. Since we are not big on eating dessert, we figured small portions or not we would be full with that amount of food. This turned out to be exactly the right choice.
At the outset of our meal we were presented with a complimentary amuse-bouche. It was a light crustini topped with mozzarella and a hint of tapenade. It made for a yummy first bite.
The mozzarella tasting plate consisted of three cheeses: smoked bufala, bufala mozzarella, and burrata. It was served with three thick slice of delicious garlic bread. Mom proclaimed it the best she’s ever had, but both Nicci and I hinted that maybe she should go to the Gilroy Garlic Festival before making such a bold claim. The smoked bufala was worst of the three cheeses, but I still enjoyed it a little. The regular bufala was fantastic (Nicci preferred this one), but the burrata — served over a very light olive oil — seemed to be the clear winner of the three, as both mom and I called it the best of the lot.
Our first plates went as follows. Nicci ordered the Coach Farm Goat Cheese ravioli with five lilies (onions). It was delicious. It was sauteed with onions, leeks, butter and garlic. Very rich and tasty. Mom ordered gnocchi with duck ragu. This was the first item of the night that blew my mind. The duck was so amazing, and the gnocchi were near-perfect. It’s hard to tell if these were better than those of Angeli Cafe, but the ragu catapulted that dish into another stratosphere. I was more than happy to oblige my mom and finish what was on her plate when she claimed she was done eating. I ordered the calf brain ravioli. I’ve been reading about the dish for about as long as I’ve been hearing about Mozza, so I had to take the plunge and try it. My first impression was that the ravioli just tasted like a warm, butter-filled pasta. The brains really only add a hint of texture, a notion of something creamy and wonderful, but not much in the way of distinct flavor. Mom was more than hesitant to try it, but I forced her to eat one just so that I can pat her on the back and say, “See, you tried something new today!” Which is a statement I’ve been hearing from her for the past 26 years.
How the hell could this meal get any better? Our second plates arrived at the exact right time — not too soon after the first plates — and answered my question definitively with one simple word: Meat. We all started in on the grilled leg of lamb with fregola sarda, mint and yogurt. The lamb was a little more cooked than the medium rare the waiter promised, but when combined with the other elements on the plate it transformed itself into something unique and wonderful. Even so, it could not top the veal breast stracotto with carrots. I would be hard-pressed to remember ever tasting a more tender, succulent, amazing meat in my life. Holy shit, it was indescribable. We ordered two side dishes to share with our second plates. Polenta with parmigiano reggiano and sauteed baby broccoli with chilies and vinegar. The broccoli, brimming with garlic and acidity, was revered by everyone at the table.
As someone who has loved Italian food longer than anything else I’ve eaten (save maybe hamburgers), to find a meal so exquisite, distinct and exciting as the one offered by Osteria Mozza was a treat. I mean, yeah, for the first 25 years of my life my idea of haute Italian cuisine was a pizza with something other than extra cheese on it, or a new variety of pasta with the same old vodka bolognese or alfredo sauce. So I guess I’m not the most well-versed gourmand in the history of food critique. Still, I seem to have developed what some novice gourmands might call a “palate” sometime in the last year or two, and it’s nice to know that I am putting it to good use now. Of course I’ll always miss the days when literally all I consumed were bagels, pizza and hamburgers…but come on, I ate fucking calf brains tonight, then called a braised, slow-cooked veal breast the best piece of meat I’ve ever consumed. That has to count for something, right?
Thanks Mozza. Next up, your pizza!
