Living After Midnight
This is L.A., and you can get fine cuisine anytime you damn well like it
By Dean Kuipers
So many Saturday mornings, around 2:15 a.m., I see you there, standing in line with the other 60 pilgrims in front of Pink's, leaning on the CityBeat box and living just a few more interminable minutes until a pair of hot dogs - one Guadalajara dog, this time, and then maybe the unadorned, never-fail chili dog just to be sure - will connect you again with the innate goodness of being an Angeleno. It's funny to see you there and honk. But it's been months, now. Many months.
And after-midnight Los Angeles has grown. It's not just a Preston Sturges-like dreamscape of hangover helper and all-night diners out there now. This weekend, when you walk out of the late show at the Nuart into the sweet jacaranda-scented turning of one day into the next, some of the best fine dining in L.A. is still available. In fact, it's a whole new late-night scene.
For instance, just around the corner from the Nuart on an industrial side street in West L.A. is Bill Knight's foodie experiment, Upstairs 2. The space was once the tasting room for the Wine House downstairs, Knight's must-have shop for wine connoisseurs and the wine-curious who pack their busy schedule of classes. And chef Todd Barrie (formerly of Joe's on Abbott Kinney) has created a tapas-like menu built specifically around their bottle and by-the-glass offerings.
On the night I was there, sommelier Marilyn Snee had chosen (among the thousands of bottles available downstairs) the 2002 Grape Tamer Syrah from Stag's Leap Ranch, a dark, earthy, life-affirming vintage (my date chose a crisp Figeat Pouilly Fume "Cuvee Prestige" 2005). The knowledgeable server recommended, as cold starters, the Tapenade Trio to go with the white wine - a plate with three just-right dabs of eggplant, salty smoked whitefish, and dried tomato and black olive. With this, we chose two things not currently on the ever-changing menu: a fantastic coriander tuna with a delicate sauce and a pinch of sautéed spinach for a flavor burst, and the shrimp with black rice. The rare Thai rice - once reserved for kings, the server explained - combined with a savory coconut milk and was totally satisfying.
As a second flight, we were served off the "Old World" wine list a 2003 J.L. Chave Saint-Joseph Offerus Syrah. The more acidic and plum flavors were a nice compliment to perfectly prepared, medium-rare venison medallions. Again, they're tapas-size portions, but more than enough when sharing space with fine wines. The Three Cheeses Plate came with some unexpected offerings, too, including a milky-soft sottocenere truffle cheese under a fig cake, a riveting Spanish Pi´con cabrales bleu, and a triple-cream Brillat-Savarin Affine. I'll probably have a heart attack any minute, but at least I'll be grinning from ear to ear.
All that magic cost about $110, so late-night dining at Upstairs 2 is going to set you back a bit more than, say, Canter's or the Original Pantry downtown. But it's worth every penny. And you don't have to worry about crowds: dinner is served until 1 a.m., but the place was about half-full at 11:30 p.m., and we were the last customers served that night. I guess it was still a touch too early for the hungry clientele leaving the 4Play Gentleman's Club down the street.
If you're willing to sacrifice some percentage of the "fine" of fine dining in return for a younger, louder, and more potentially available clientele, then brave the wilds of downtown and the deliciously dark and newly remodeled Redwood Bar & Grill. The place has been completely revamped since its days as the well-worn watering hole of the L.A. Times staffers across the street. If you grab one of the tables and park yourself under the nautical décor - where watery films like Yellowbeard or Open Water 2 play on a loop - you can enjoy a creative mix of gastropub attitude and straight-up comfort food as the club crowd spills over from the Edison just down the street, all tight little dresses and hair product. On Fridays and Saturdays, the place is packed by 11 p.m. and a fair number flock to the intimate dance floor in the back room, but you can get the full dinner menu until 1 a.m. and just watch the show.
A friendly bartender named David points out some of his favorites on the menu, including the award-winning Redwood Burger and the Portobello mushroom sandwich - two big mushroom caps stuffed with goat cheese, breaded, and deep-fried, which he praises as "messy, but good." More heart-attack nirvana! Other patrons report that the Craftsman fish and chips and the wedge salad are top draws, as well as the mac 'n cheese. I don't know if they know anything about food, but the two gals who told me this were darling enough to be forgiven. And the prices are forgiving, too: You could have two entrees and a couple drinks at the Redwood and still get out of there for $45.
Oh, and speaking of burgers and potentially available clientele? The new 25 Degrees restaurant in the Roosevelt Hotel could be the ultimate Hollywood eating-after-midnight experience. Or one of 'em. A burger-in-a-bordello-type vibe dominates, with oxblood leather booths and textured fuchsia wallpaper, and according to the website, the place never closes. What, you've never been in the Roosevelt's pool in your underwear with someone else's girlfriend? Every night you wait is another night lost - lost, I tell you. After you towel off and steal a house robe, the only thing you're going to want is a burger - and it's a good thing, too, because all that red décor is your first clue that burgers are all they serve at the 25 Degrees.
Similar to other pure burger joints like the Counter by the Santa Monica airport, the 25 Degrees menu is a you-build-it affair. For somewhere between $10 and $15, you pick your meat (ground sirloin, turkey, or hot dog), sauce, one of a dozen carefully chosen cheeses from Emmi gruyere to burrata, and terrific extras like caramelized onions or prosciutto. After that and 10 glasses of 25 Degrees red ale (that's extra), you're not going to want to leave the hotel, so better cozy up to whomever you stole the robe from - but you're a big girl, now. You know better than I do how to organize all that.
And then there's the new restaurant in the Avalon called Honey - if you like eating while a disco thump vibrates your table across the floor - or the "ultralounge" in the Penthouse on the 18th floor of Santa Monica's Huntley Hotel (get there by 10:45 p.m). But if all that's too Hollywood for you, too newfangled, too posh, don't pack it in for a Netflix night. L.A.'s late-night standards are always there for you. Go get a beautiful pollo burrito verde at La Cabaña in Venice. That lady goes right on making hand-made tortillas until 3 a.m., bless her. Or roll down to the bottom of Beechwood Canyon and you smack right into La Poubelle and its reasonable French food all the way up 'til 2 a.m. Or Mel's. Or Swingers. Or Damiano's.
And if all else fails, midnight rambler, there will always be Pink's.
Published: 05/17/2007
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