Mirabelle Dictu!
I am delighted to inform you about a Sunset stalwart
By Richard Foss
A mayfly that is 20 hours old is an elder of its species, and might be sought out by younger relatives about where to find the tastiest diatoms, the freshest algae. As with so many other things, longevity is a matter of degree. A restaurant that is 20 years old in Rome is a newcomer, while one that is 20 months old on the Sunset Strip is on its way to being an institution.
So when a restaurant thrives on the Strip for 37 years, it shows a lot of staying power. Mirabelle is low-key compared to some of the hot spots here, but hot spots burn out and this place hasn’t. The long, low building looks like it sank into the ground after it was completed, and once you walk down the stairs you have the choice of dining in the airy, slightly nautical bar or a darker and more formal dining room. The bar is quite pretty, but the dining room seemed quieter and we wanted to talk.
From the name we had expected French cuisine, which they apparently did serve decades ago, but nowadays the menu is eclectic contemporary – charcuterie and crabcakes, pastas and smoked rib eye. We started with a chopped salad ($8) and an order of the crispy gnocchi ($12), the latter a main course that our server said would work as an appetizer for two. We nibbled tapenade and sipped sangria while we waited and chatted about wine with Michael Duddie, the manager who doubles as sommelier. When we asked him to just surprise us with whatever went best with our food, he got a gleam in his eye and bustled off.
The salad soon arrived, and it was the standard chop with a more interesting flavor profile than usual – slightly bitter greens offset by the sweetness of gala apples, richness of gorgonzola, and candied and cayenned pecans used as subtly as a nut covered with chile peppers can be. No genius ideas here, but a very solid execution. The pan-fried gnocchi were successful but not as described – they had a texture like a Chinese pot sticker, soft within and crisp on one side. They were a texture rather than a flavor, but the English peas, asparagus, mushrooms, and dried tomatoes filled in nicely in that regard. It was an excellent starter for two or more and would have been a fine vegan dinner, had we been so inclined.
An entrée of wild striped bass with artichoke puree, king oyster mushrooms, and pil-pil sauce ($25) served as our next course. Pil-pil is a Basque fish sauce of pureed oil, garlic, and peppers – not a wildly astonishing flavor combination, but an absolutely reliable one. It was like a light, delicate garlic mayonnaise, and perfect with seafood. The fish was just a bit underdone, without the crisp skin that would have made it perfect, but very tasty nonetheless.
We continued with the house specialty, glazed boneless short ribs with honey-glazed baby vegetables. Glazed accompanied by glazed gave us pause as a combination, but it worked – the short ribs were savory with a touch of sweetness, the vegetables lightly perfumed. The meat was falling-apart tender but not overdone despite being slow-cooked for 17 hours; it still had texture rather than being stewed to rags.
Michael came up with pairings that suited each of our courses, which he served in short pours so we could enjoy the flavors without getting slammed. Of the various wines we tried, the Sardinian Cannonau was most noteworthy, a perfect match to the beef that brought out the sweet-and-sour flavors.
We finished our meal with a “deconstructed sundae” – all the ingredients of an ice cream sundae laid out like a build-your-own-dessert kit. It was a clever presentation for an enduring favorite, and if you are particular about the ratio of bittersweet chocolate sauce to toffee, nuts, and whipped cream, you can’t do better without owning an ice cream shop.
We left Mirabelle comfortably full, very happy, and wondering why the place wasn’t packed when others around it were jumping. This is a classic by Sunset Strip standards, and deserves recognition for keeping standards high in a tourist swamp.
(The author halfheartedly apologizes for the Latin/English pun in the title.)
Mirabelle, 8768 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, (310) 659-6022. Open daily for lunch, weekend brunch, and dinner. Wheelchair access problematic, full bar, valet parking. Call for reservations.
Published: 07/02/2008
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