IF YOU WANT TO PUT THE ASPEN DINING SCENE IN PERSPECTIVE, just go somewhere else. You might find that for a small, remote mountain town, we’ve got it pretty damn good. At least that’s how we felt on a recent trip to Los Angeles.
Don’t get me wrong: I love California cuisine. The fresh ingredients, the fruit-and-spice combinations influenced by Mexican and Pan-Asian dishes has inspired my own cooking. There is nothing better than fresh mango salsa or a pineapple fried rice paired with a delicate piece of fresh fish. I love to add a dash of unexpected fruit or sweetness to a spicy dish with a dollop of jam or a tablespoon of maple syrup, or to add a bit of spice to something sweet with chili flakes or hot sauce. Maybe it’s because I hadn’t discovered mangos or avocados until my early 20s that they have become my two favorite foods on the planet.
But when it comes to fine dining, we are pretty damned spoiled. Don’t get me wrong. I love traveling to cities and researching my Zagat guides and reading up on popular hot spots and talking to locals. There are obvious choices in obvious places that can’t be beat: small Italian joints in the Carroll Gardens neighborhood of Brooklyn; Dim Sum on Geary in the Richmond District of San Fran; sushi in Vancouver where cold water fish like salmon reign, and Baja fish tacos at the Brigatine, just north of San Diego.
One of the reasons I joined my husband in LA was to eat. I know, I know. Most people go to LA to get their fat sucked out, not to put it back in. But I had three nights and three restaurants to see what the other tinsel town had to offer
Our first stop was Koi in West Hollywood where we were seated at an intimate two-top next to a little bridge over a koi pond, surrounded by greenery and rich, stained wood.
The first thing the waiter says is, “Have you eaten at Koi before? Do you know how our menu works?”
Ryan goes, “We live in Aspen and eat at Matsuhisa—it’s pretty much the same.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” the waiter said.
We tried some of the signature dishes, the Koi Crispy Rice topped with Spicy Tuna (tasted surprisingly like potato latkes) and lobster tacos (more taco shell than lobster) but the real winners were the rolls that utilized my favorite ingredients (mango, avocado, jalapeno). But it was nothing we hadn’t seen before, and as far as taste, Aspen had this pretentious LA joint beat by a landslide—nice people, now that’s in good taste.
Our second night, we dined with a friend at Lucques, a little French bistro on Melrose. I’m not sure what was French about lamb tartar, essentially a deconstructed gyro (served with yogurt and lentils). And the grilled sea bass dish I had for an entrée, grilled and served over celery slaw, was a bit too healthy for French food. The food was layered and complex, the ingredients fresh, and the ambiance old-school cool (an old brick carriage house in a city where anything old is gold), but if I had to choose between a day on the beach and the Pernot mussels at Cache-Cache, I probably would have just stayed home.
The next stop was Everleigh on Sunset, a spot that was recommended for the views from the sweet outdoor patio, which ended up encased under a plastic tent and packed with space heaters on account of Angelinos who think sixty degrees at night is cold. Small dishes like Baked Okinawan sweet potato with crisp duck confit, whipped yogurt and chives sounded pretty good—at least on paper. The large purple potato was boiled, starchy and bland. The only duck confit I could detect were the few strands of dried meat that got stuck in my teeth.
Like the outdoor patio we’d come for, everything about dining in LA seemed a little too plastic. Aspen might be cold when it comes to the weather, but when it comes to the dining scene, our little mountain hamlet is hot hot hot.
-Ali Berkley Margo
What’s your favorite Aspen restaurant? What was your biggest big city letdown? Tell us. Leave your comments here.