
Where to eat and drink this 4th of July weekend? Our critic has suggestions
Not long after the Benjamin opened in Hollywood early last summer, I showed up hoping for a couple unreserved seats at the bar, situated in the center of the restaurant's posh Art Deco room. No go. The staffer put us on a wait list and suggested we hang out at the Moon Room bar located above the restaurant.
We climbed the stairs and peeked in. I could roll with the New York 1970s nostalgia vibe — parquet floors with checkered tiles around the bar counter, wild art, a baby grand. That night, though, the place was so empty it looked lonely. We took a walk until the Benjamin called us back.
Riding on the success of the glamour downstairs, owners Ben Shenassafar, Kate Burr and Jared Meisler reintroduced Moon Room (which Meisler had opened last spring) as Bar Benjamin, replicating the same tasteful woods, moss-colored velvets and dim chandelier lighting as the restaurant below. Much, much improved.
The group brought in two ace bartenders: Chad Austin and Jason Lee. I'm particularly a fan of Lee: A few years back he crafted a summertime cocktail at n/soto of ice, shaved to order, over watermelon juice laced with amaro and lime juice. Then he moved on to Baroo, masterfully devising drinks around Korean spirits or kombucha that synched with Kwang Uh's singular cooking.
At Bar Benjamin, he and Austin distill many of the cuisines that define Los Angeles (Mexican, Thai, Sichuan, Persian) into liquid odes. To work backwards, there's a fun play on the ubiquitous Iranian stew fesenjoon that includes Granada Vallet pomegranate liqueur and walnut-rice orgeat that's sweet enough to qualify as dessert. To start, I'd lean more toward the bumblebee-yellow, mezcal-spiked Last Laugh bright with saffron, pineapple, bell pepper and mango.
A Gibson infused with the essence of an everything bagel? A bit intense in its pickled flavors for me. But then again, I lean purist in the martini realms. I'll choose the lemony Ben's Martini that also happens to nicely match the very edited selection of small plates, including mustardy beef tartare and dilled shrimp salad in a brioche bun.
A fun, fizzing crowd filled the space on a recent weeknight visit. But even if I came upon Bar Benjamin with few customers, the new cocooned atmosphere would be one I'd be happy to have to myself.
How might a bowl of warm borscht appeal in summertime temperatures?
The broth at the version served at Fusion Kitchen in Mid-Wilshire is light, for starters. Chunks of stewed tomato and grated beets and carrot gently vary the textures. Every third or fourth spoonful catches a few strands of beef. Taste first, and then stir in a couple splotches of sour cream. On the side are toasted triangles of rye bread and several slices of melt-on-the-tongue salo — salt pork, similar to Italian lardo, that is ubiquitous to Ukrainian culture.
I've been hungering for more tastes of Eastern European food since writing about Noroc, a restaurant in Sacramento that serves Moldovan dishes, for the 101 Best Restaurants in California guide.
With a name as unfortunately generic as Fusion Kitchen, you need to know what you're looking for. This was previously known as the second location of Mom, Please, the Ukrainian draw in Playa Vista opened by Oleksii Kochetkov, his wife, Inna Kochetkova, and his mother, Olena Kochetkova. The same owners run Fusion Kitchen; only the name changed.
After blitzing through the menu, I have a few strong recommendations beyond borscht. Cabbage rolls show off the same gravity-defying sleight of hand, improbably delicate wrappers bundling minced beef and vegetables scented with basil. Among varenyky and pelmeni, the half-moon dumplings filled with mashed potato and dressed in mushroom sauce turned out to be the most compelling.
And among many options for desserts, zero in on the medovic, or honey cake. It doesn't have the zillion layers of, say, Michelle Polzine's fame-making version at her now-closed 20th Century Cafe in San Francisco. Its sour cream frosting zings, though, with the crucial sweet-smokiness of burnt honey.
I'm ordering too much as usual, calling out chef Natalia Moran's modern takes on Filipino standards: lumpia, sisig, lechon, adobo, kare kare, garlic rice … .
When I'm done, the server studies me. 'You forgot to order the signature dish,' she says. 'There's a reason our name is Manila Inasal.'
Oops. Thanks goodness she steered me right.
Chicken may be the traditional choice for this class of thoroughly marinated and grilled dishes, but the bungus inasal, made with silvery milkfish, is particularly wonderful here. Achiote stains the fish, which has also absorbed the aromatics of lemongrass, ginger and sharply citrusy calamansi juice. Swipe forkfuls through two sauces, one based on green chile and the other on coconut vinegar. With a bit of cucumber salad spooned on the plate, it's a refreshing warm weather meal.
To dive deeper: start with always-easy-to-crunch lumpia or, even better, laing, taro leaves creamed in coconut milk with seasonings like garlic, ginger and shrimp paste. Moran's take is restrained, but pleasantly so, and she presents it as an appetizer dip surrounded by focaccia baked with taro leaves. The vegetable pancit satisfyingly mingles egg and glassy vermicelli noodles in a soy-based sauce with thrumming umami.
Meatier dishes I tried like the kare kare with ultra-tender cuts of beef (including oxtail) and lechon could have been punchier in their flavors; it's hard not to compare them with the masterful versions Maynard Llera prepares at Kuya Lord. As my colleague Stephanie Breijo reported in June, the restaurant opened two months in Silver Lake Plaza, in the same complex on Virgil Avenue that houses Daybird. So it's still settling in and calibrating.
The namesake inasal? I'm already all in.
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However you might be feeling about the state of our country this long holiday weekend (me: angry, troubled, resolute in staying aligned with the progressive values that truly move our nation forward), I hope you have time to rest and regroup. Here are three suggestions for eating and drinking this weekend: They're places that brought me some recent, needed joy. Not long after the Benjamin opened in Hollywood early last summer, I showed up hoping for a couple unreserved seats at the bar, situated in the center of the restaurant's posh Art Deco room. No go. The staffer put us on a wait list and suggested we hang out at the Moon Room bar located above the restaurant. We climbed the stairs and peeked in. I could roll with the New York 1970s nostalgia vibe — parquet floors with checkered tiles around the bar counter, wild art, a baby grand. That night, though, the place was so empty it looked lonely. We took a walk until the Benjamin called us back. Riding on the success of the glamour downstairs, owners Ben Shenassafar, Kate Burr and Jared Meisler reintroduced Moon Room (which Meisler had opened last spring) as Bar Benjamin, replicating the same tasteful woods, moss-colored velvets and dim chandelier lighting as the restaurant below. Much, much improved. The group brought in two ace bartenders: Chad Austin and Jason Lee. I'm particularly a fan of Lee: A few years back he crafted a summertime cocktail at n/soto of ice, shaved to order, over watermelon juice laced with amaro and lime juice. Then he moved on to Baroo, masterfully devising drinks around Korean spirits or kombucha that synched with Kwang Uh's singular cooking. At Bar Benjamin, he and Austin distill many of the cuisines that define Los Angeles (Mexican, Thai, Sichuan, Persian) into liquid odes. To work backwards, there's a fun play on the ubiquitous Iranian stew fesenjoon that includes Granada Vallet pomegranate liqueur and walnut-rice orgeat that's sweet enough to qualify as dessert. To start, I'd lean more toward the bumblebee-yellow, mezcal-spiked Last Laugh bright with saffron, pineapple, bell pepper and mango. A Gibson infused with the essence of an everything bagel? A bit intense in its pickled flavors for me. But then again, I lean purist in the martini realms. I'll choose the lemony Ben's Martini that also happens to nicely match the very edited selection of small plates, including mustardy beef tartare and dilled shrimp salad in a brioche bun. A fun, fizzing crowd filled the space on a recent weeknight visit. But even if I came upon Bar Benjamin with few customers, the new cocooned atmosphere would be one I'd be happy to have to myself. How might a bowl of warm borscht appeal in summertime temperatures? The broth at the version served at Fusion Kitchen in Mid-Wilshire is light, for starters. Chunks of stewed tomato and grated beets and carrot gently vary the textures. Every third or fourth spoonful catches a few strands of beef. Taste first, and then stir in a couple splotches of sour cream. On the side are toasted triangles of rye bread and several slices of melt-on-the-tongue salo — salt pork, similar to Italian lardo, that is ubiquitous to Ukrainian culture. I've been hungering for more tastes of Eastern European food since writing about Noroc, a restaurant in Sacramento that serves Moldovan dishes, for the 101 Best Restaurants in California guide. With a name as unfortunately generic as Fusion Kitchen, you need to know what you're looking for. This was previously known as the second location of Mom, Please, the Ukrainian draw in Playa Vista opened by Oleksii Kochetkov, his wife, Inna Kochetkova, and his mother, Olena Kochetkova. The same owners run Fusion Kitchen; only the name changed. After blitzing through the menu, I have a few strong recommendations beyond borscht. Cabbage rolls show off the same gravity-defying sleight of hand, improbably delicate wrappers bundling minced beef and vegetables scented with basil. Among varenyky and pelmeni, the half-moon dumplings filled with mashed potato and dressed in mushroom sauce turned out to be the most compelling. And among many options for desserts, zero in on the medovic, or honey cake. It doesn't have the zillion layers of, say, Michelle Polzine's fame-making version at her now-closed 20th Century Cafe in San Francisco. Its sour cream frosting zings, though, with the crucial sweet-smokiness of burnt honey. I'm ordering too much as usual, calling out chef Natalia Moran's modern takes on Filipino standards: lumpia, sisig, lechon, adobo, kare kare, garlic rice … . When I'm done, the server studies me. 'You forgot to order the signature dish,' she says. 'There's a reason our name is Manila Inasal.' Oops. Thanks goodness she steered me right. Chicken may be the traditional choice for this class of thoroughly marinated and grilled dishes, but the bungus inasal, made with silvery milkfish, is particularly wonderful here. Achiote stains the fish, which has also absorbed the aromatics of lemongrass, ginger and sharply citrusy calamansi juice. Swipe forkfuls through two sauces, one based on green chile and the other on coconut vinegar. With a bit of cucumber salad spooned on the plate, it's a refreshing warm weather meal. To dive deeper: start with always-easy-to-crunch lumpia or, even better, laing, taro leaves creamed in coconut milk with seasonings like garlic, ginger and shrimp paste. Moran's take is restrained, but pleasantly so, and she presents it as an appetizer dip surrounded by focaccia baked with taro leaves. The vegetable pancit satisfyingly mingles egg and glassy vermicelli noodles in a soy-based sauce with thrumming umami. Meatier dishes I tried like the kare kare with ultra-tender cuts of beef (including oxtail) and lechon could have been punchier in their flavors; it's hard not to compare them with the masterful versions Maynard Llera prepares at Kuya Lord. As my colleague Stephanie Breijo reported in June, the restaurant opened two months in Silver Lake Plaza, in the same complex on Virgil Avenue that houses Daybird. So it's still settling in and calibrating. The namesake inasal? I'm already all in.