There’s a new No. 1 restaurant. I’ll explain
Why is Vespertine No. 1 on the 101 list this year?
Because Jordan Kahn is playing with modes of dining that have never before been articulated. Because months after your meal, images and juxtapositions will flash through your thoughts, as vivid as they were the evening of your dinner. Because Verspertine is in its way perfect.
But isn’t the experience alienating? You tend to spend half of what you write about a Kahn project explaining why most people are unlikely to enjoy it.
This is true — I do spend a lot of time thinking about how a young couple from Tarzana might save up for a nice night out and end up not just confused but angry about the fruit leather, dried kelp and clouds of smoldering frankincense. If you’re going to Vespertine — and of course, I encourage everybody to visit Vespertine — you should know what you are getting into, just as you would before seeing “Lulu” at the L.A. Opera.
Do you like Vespertine?
I do. But I’m not sure that it’s a relevant question. I have no doubt that Kahn and his team have their customers’ pleasure somewhere in their list of aesthetic priorities, but I’m guessing it’s pretty far behind other considerations. I am occasionally reminded by the essay “Who Cares If You Listen” by the fabulously dissonant composer Milton Babbitt. I also think about the scene in Albert Brooks’ “Defending Your Life” where Brooks insists on trying some of the food his defense attorney Rip Torn is eating — not meant for little brains, Torn explains — and even the spacestation food sequence in “2001.’’ The point of Kahn’s food is to keep you off-balance, to resemble nothing you’ve ever intentionally put in your mouth. At this he succeeds.
But shouldn’t you have waited until next year, when the restaurant’s concept is perhaps betterrealized?
As I said, Vespertine is perfect now — the staff executes Kahn’s vision flawlessly, from the teff salad with the halibut to the ecclesiastical demeanor of the waiters. And it’s hard to predict what the restaurant might be like next year. Some of my favorite places — Ume no Hana, Porridge and Puffs, Joachim Splichal’s Max au Triangle — have had short lifespans. Plus, the next year will see new restaurants from April Bloomfield, Daniel Humm, Ori Menashe, Jessica Largey and David Chang, plus recently opened restaurants from Jean-Georges Vongerichten and Dave Beran. Who knows how things are going to shake out?
Wouldn’t you rather go to Providence?
Possibly. But also possibly not.
But Dialogue! But MTN! But ink.well! But Sari Sari Store!
All of them are quite good —
especially Dialogue, which has the potential to be one of the best restaurants in California. But they’re very new, and I’m not sure that any of them has quite caught their stride yet. Let’s talk again next year.
Esquire just named Felix the best new restaurant in the United States. How on Earth could you leave them off the list?
I like Felix. I like Evan Funke, who possesses a rare gift for central Italian flavors. The restaurant is deservedly popular — I like going there. But Felix is primarily a pasta restaurant, and I disagree with Funke on what pasta might be. I am on the side of suppleness, noodles that feel almost alive under your teeth. His aesthetic leans toward the severe end of the spectrum, where pasta is wet on the outside and barely cooked at the center. Some people call this style filo di ferro, “iron string,” pasta cooked just a few seconds short of al dente. I think Funke’s pasta goes a few steps before even that. Does this call for pistols at dawn? I hope not!