Mid-City West, Los Angeles
This small restaurant was crazy busy on a Tuesday night. The service was good though the hostess I guess you could say was brusque? On the way to our table, she told us to “come” at least two or three times. I guess it’s because the place was busy. It’s just annoying when the first person you see at the restaurant makes you feel like you owe her the world.
Anyway this place has been on my list of restaurants to try for a while, but reservations were booked through for six solid months on weekends. I suggest taking any time you can get—even if it’s at 10:30 pm, go. This place is worth every penny and a meat eater’s heaven. Especially the beef goulash with dumplings, if the season’s right of course.
When we were lead to our table, I was surprised by the tautness of my leash, but the red and black suede looked really good with my dress. And the velvet lining was snug but comfy, without actually choking me. My date got a leather collar with spikes, which most of the guys seemed to be wearing. It made him look edgy like a Goth punk rocker with whips or something. So hot!
One thing that bothered me though was there were no cushions under the tables. The floor was cold. And they kept telling me to sit, sit! And stay. I wasn’t going anywhere until I tried the chicken liver toast!
Tip: Wearing a mini-dress to BB is a bad idea. Especially since the food the servers feed you by hand while they’re sitting at the table above you has a tendency to drip down your neck if you approach it at a less than perfect angle. The beef heart looked incredible but I decided to go with the prime rib for the main course. A blend of au jus, horseradish, and blood is tough to contain on a bite of steak! The trick is to sit very still until they place the morsel of delicious food deeply inside your mouth. My server was top notch in the gentle way she’d pat my head between perfect-sized bites, reassuring me that I was being a “good girl” and that I’d get a nice treat for dessert.
And dessert did not disappoint. We ordered the bacon chocolate bar with salt and pepper ice cream. The bacon bar itself was alright. The s+p ice cream was different and I actually really liked it. The fact that my server submerged her hand in a bucket of ice before she served it to me from her cupped palm shows how dedicated the place is to service. The ice cream didn’t melt quickly at all. I thought that was a nice touch. I didn’t order coffee since lapping a hot beverage from a stainless steel bowl on the floor might be a tiny bit trickier than enjoying the Malbec the sommelier recommended, so I skipped it. It was close to midnight by the time we finished our meal anyway and I had work in the morning.
Next time: I’ll splurge on the Queen Bitch prix fixe with the pork belly gnocchi and date- and mint-crusted lamb. The meal supposedly involves heated cushions and an all-you-can-lap champagne fountain. And sadly, the Queen Bitch doesn’t include collars. But I hear if you venture from the dining area, you can get a mild electric shock! My friend said they’re a doozy. Hopefully if I make reservations now I can bring my mom for Mother’s Day.
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Sabra Embury is a book critic for Brooklyn's L Magazine. Her confabulations and fantastications can be found in the Los Angeles Review of Books, the Rumpus, Tottenville Review, NANO Fiction and other places. Follow her antics on Twitter @yrubmEarbaS.