“Funny Girl” on the West End: I’m Here to Monsoon on this G-D Paradeby Randi / September 19, 2016
Going into dinner at Crossroads, my first ever meal in Los Angeles, I was wary. I knew of Tal Ronnen, famous celebrity chef behind Oprah’s 21-day vegan challenge and Ellen’s wedding, and I was super psyched to finally eat at his fancy well-known restaurant on Melrose (so I could say “We’re going to Melrose” in Ambular’s voice). But I had heard from several people whose opinions I trust, and none of them agreed on whether the food was disappointing or BRE (best restaurant ever). Either the consistency at Crossroads is just nonexistent or some of my friends have the Sookie-preggers-tastebud-crazytimes, but luckily I guess I went on a good night. No, a great night. A freaking fantastic, fabulous night because this dinner was off the chizzz, people, and despite an absolutely stellar week of eating in L.A. (which will be my next like bajillion posts), Crossroads was the highlight among all highlights.
Now, not everything was perfect. Far from it. The service was nicht so good; we will get to that later. Notably, the lighting was not good for pictures, as you will be able to clearly (or blurrily) see. This is really upsetting because the food is so beautifully plated, but I guess they’re of the old-school belief that food is for eating and not photographing. Amateurs. No it’s not a big deal just a warning so you don’t keep shouting ah my eyes! Also, I was seated so I faced the bar, and there was a semi-famous woman sitting directly in my line of vision and I couldn’t figure out who she was! So that was a bummer! I think some sort of Real Housewife or mob wife or some such person I should probably be glad I can’t name. The group at the table next to us had to have been some sort of band or something. One of the guys was a f-ing slob, wearing like dirty pajamas to this insanely nice restaurant, and he was hairier than if Rob Delaney got turned into a woolly mammoth. Like his hair and his beard were on the table. So gross. And another guy was a dead ringer for Noel Fielding, giant witch’s hat and all. They have to be famouses, right? Or is that just how regulars in L.A. are too?
But the food was epic. So epic that I place Crossroads in the Michelin series I write. No, it doesn’t have a star, but you know what? It was much better than some meals that had even multiple stars attached (and it was more expensive erma p gerd) so I’m tagging it as such. CHANGE APPROVED. Also, Husband and I went with two local friends, so it was one vegan and three omnivores. They were all blown away by every course. Like BUHH LOWN away. I was so happy just for that! Let’s get down to it.
But the food was epic. So epic that I place Crossroads in the Michelin series I write. No, it doesn’t have a star, but you know what? It was much better than some meals that had even multiple stars attached (and it was more expensive erma p gerd) so I’m tagging it as such. CHANGE APPROVED. Also, Husband and I went with two local friends, so it was one vegan and three omnivores. They were all blown away by every course. Like BUHH LOWN away. I was so happy just for that! Let’s get down to it.
Little ball of heaven in the back, some necessary greens on the left
The concept is small plates, tapas style, allegedly coming out as each was ready but we realized that the sequence was actually following the menu order, which made more sense than otherwise. The waitress recommended 4-5 dishes per person, and I think we did 3-4 each (all for sharing) and had trouble finishing the final dishes, so keep that in mind. We started with the Charred Ricotta, served with crostini and apricot thyme glaze. I was never a huge cheese person, like I never cried and pissed and moaned about having to give it up like other prospective vegans do at all times, but this new wave of artisan (meaningless) vegan cheese is extraordinary, and this dish was a prime example of it. I don’t know what it’s made of, but unlike the plain whipped tofu I’ve had at other places who call such an abomination ricotta, this was amazing. I wish I could have this dish delivered to my house every single day, but that would be supes gross after a 12 hour flight. And then customs and stuff? Ugh. I’d still eat it.
Our other small starter was the Watercress and Peach Salad, which was refreshing and must have been pretty good considering I don’t particularly like watercress and I had eaten the peach of my liiife the day before. Oh California produce. The salad was tossed with hazelnuts and a mint vinaigrette, which was happily not minty at all. Strong start.
Our other small starter was the Watercress and Peach Salad, which was refreshing and must have been pretty good considering I don’t particularly like watercress and I had eaten the peach of my liiife the day before. Oh California produce. The salad was tossed with hazelnuts and a mint vinaigrette, which was happily not minty at all. Strong start.
|
I can’t get over how blurry these pics are! This salad is total Blursula! Blahhh. But it was so good. And the ricotta oh man. It had like a protective shell and when you broke through it you were rewarded with the best cheese ever. |
Amazingness
Next up was probably my favorite part of the entire dinner, and I think the dish that most impressed by friends. The Artichoke Oysters were served and eaten like oysters, with the little ball of artichoke puree, yellow tomato bearnaise, and kelp caviar over a grilled oyster mushroom and served on a meaty piece of artichoke heart. Oh my goodness, this is the most impressive thing I’ve eaten in a while. Just the sheer creativity of making something like that, and the genius in executing it perfectly, boggles the mind. I’m just obsessed! In the middle was a scoop of seaweed, my favorite thing, but I didn’t realize it until someone else ate it. And I didn’t even care! That’s how good these oysters were. Holy crap. Next time some asshat tries to have an argument about the whole ‘can’t vegans eat oysters they’re plants right?’ just be like why would you eat enlarged bougers when you could eat artichoke oysters?
the rancho carne toros
You’d think maybe after the life-changing events of the ricotta and the oysters, that the 300 subsequent dishes would be slightly disappointing, but you’d be mistaken. Everything was on such a high level, it felt almost criminal to be enjoying it without being Ellen myself. We tried another salad next, the Grilled Romaine, and although it was very difficult to share (being a wedge salad), it was my favorite salad. The grilled lettuce heart was smothered in harissa ranch dressing. I’m not a fan of ranch dressing, never was, even though I went to a college where people put that shit on their pizza. But this ranch dressing in this salad? I’m a convert. Well at least to Crossroads’ ranch. The salad was topped with pickled shallots, heirloom cherry tomatoes, and black olives, all of which nicely cut the heaviness of hot lettuce and ranch dressing. Such a wonderful combination!
Such a good dish for sharing, unless you are eating with me, because I will eat all the damn bread.
Speaking of pizza, the pizza section on the Crossroads menu was really difficult to pass up, but we had a feeling that their fancier-seeming dishes were the heavy-hitters, and we were right. Next we had the basic but delicious Lentil Flatbread, a wonderfully earthy and warm pita-like bread served with little dishes of marinated eggplant, braised banana pepper, and mushroom relish. I honestly couldn’t tell which vegetable was in which pot (I mean by color sure but you know what i mean), but it was all great.
could eat 100
The “Crab Cakes” (their quotes, not mine) were equally good while being a more familiar taste at similarly adventurous vegan restaurants. They were topped with the daintiest amount of tartar sauce and watercress. While the cake itself was really fantastic (I’m guessing hearts of palm? but it doesn’t say in the menu), it needed a lot more of the sauce. I guess we could have asked for some but they’re small bites so you don’t really realize it until after you’ve finished.
We also probably wouldn’t have asked because our initially-fine waitress became the Mona-Lisa-Saperstein WORRRRRRST seriously the worst. At one point, she tried to remove my friend’s wine glass, even though it still had a few sips in in. My friend said she wasn’t done with that yet, and the waitress put it down. But I guess she had been worn down by a terrible audition earlier in the day (probs all actors right?) and so this benign comment instead hit her as criticism of her performance in her day job and at the thought of her being a failure at that too she absolutely shattered, and was a total b word to us the rest of the time. I mean that’s just me guessing but I’m probably right. She rushed us from then on, couldn’t wait to get rid of us so would idle nearby waiting for us to finish a plate so she could quickly snatch it away. Like this was a busy restaurant with lots to do, but she would just watch us, ignoring her other tables, and look perturbed. What a terribleness.
hidden not-really-a-joke was because of ray romano you get it
Luckily, her inability to keep it together did not affect our enjoyment of our meal. No, we’re not done. Next was Grilled Romano Beans, which I’ve never heard of before but everybody likes them right so we ordered them. They were really good, still in their pods and barbecued with balsamic peaches, marcona almonds (those are the fancy almonds right), and black garlic chili vinaigrette. So damn good! That’s a lot of flavors going on but beans are pretty basic on their own so it was all working.
Next was a dish I know all my friends in England are throwing tomatoes at their screens over – the Grilled Fresh Baby Corn. People here just don’t do baby corn, what I can tell you? I can take it or leave it but this dish? I’ll take. I bet it could even turn the naysayers onto baby corn, it was RG. Harissa-spiced, mixed with crispy shallots and corn puree, this dish was so worth ordering, even though when my friend first ordered it I was like “you’re wasting a space on baby corn? why would you waste a space on baby corn?” but it was a good decision.
Our first of the Comforting Classics, as they’re called, was the dish most recommended to me – the Chickpea Cake. It’s a good deal heartier than the smaller plates, and so actually makes this very expensive food seem like a better value. The chickpea patty is served with porcini mushrooms, red spring onions, and sherry demi cream. I don’t know what makes cream ‘demi’ but I really enjoyed the chickpea cake and was glad I followed everyone’s advice. It seems like an entree you’d get at a nice comforting vegan restaurant, or maybe make yourself if you have a lot of time one night. Very solid and delicious.
Onto the last of our Comforting Classics, and the last of our savory dishes (I totally forgot to take pictures of some things in the ruckus of this amazing meal! sorry not sorry! Add like 4-5 other dishes and you’ll get a sense of how much food we ate!). The Scaloppini Milanese was so amazing. It could have easily been a hunk of Gardein or something at a lesser restaurant, but this patty, whatever it was, was incredible, with the perfect texture. The telltale syruppy but thin Milanese sauce took it to the next level, and like everything else here, was wonderful.
On to dessert!!! We were so full that we couldn’t even finish some of the above dishes, but we had to get dessert. I was actually in a place that would give me something other that fruit sorbet and fruit; of course I’m getting dessert! We decided to split two among the four of us, starting with the Peach Upside Down Cake. Proving that their pastry chef is as talented as the head chef, this wonderful cake was warm and full of deep brown sugar. The roasted peaches were just as good as all the other peaches we ate all night and all week (the best peaches in this state!) and complemented by the lemon cornmeal of the cake. The best part was the brown sugar ice cream it was served with, not that it was better than the cake but just because ice cream is my favorite. As such, the dessert I got to choose was the famous Hot Fudge Sundae, which yeah I could make and yeah I could have elsewhere but shush, it was awesome. The vanilla bean ice cream was served on top of a warm brownie (le sigh), mixed with banana fudge, whatever that amazingness is, and topped with hazelnuts and coconut whipped cream. Best sundae ever, yes.
Cake & ice cream! |
Ice cream sundaeee! |
Overall, this was an epic, spectacular meal, definitely one of my favorites ever. It was stupid expensive, but compared to similar restaurants, I think the value was so high that it was well worth it.
Crossroads, Los Angeles, California, US&A
Water speed: Decent. There were a few times when we had to flag people down, but overall it was okay.
Service: What a weird issue! The waitress was a total eggshell plaintiff or something. She just didn’t like us and make it hella obvious. Boo urns.
Bathrooms: I felt like I was in an episode of Gossip Girl when I went to the bathroom. They are small, with two stalls separated by the sink area, and blonde wannabe starlets apparently congregate in the sink area to fix their hair while I try to wash my hands. Their conversation was so hilariously stereotypical of everything L.A. I almost thought it was Improv Everywhere or something.
Food: Incredible! Not one bad note. One of the best meals ever.
Bonus: The atmosphere can’t help but be great, considering the location and the notoriety. Usually more famous people are there than were on my night, but even so, the food is so superb that I didn’t even care that it was apparently the one night of the year that Russell Simmons wasn’t there.
Related Posts
Dishoom: London’s Hippest Restaurant Pretty Good For Vegans
Not that I’m an expert on what the cool kids are up to, but when a restaurant is a) in Shoreditch and b) has at least an hour wait even on a Tuesday evening, I’m pretty confident in calling it the hippest. Especially when the majority of people in the mass waiting in line to get in are wearing jean shorts and black tights. So hip in these parts.
My marked-up menu, courtesy of the most helpful waitress
And Dishoom in Shoreditch (it also has two locations more westerly but East London is for the cooler people) is actually worth standing in that queue for. Billing itself as a Bombay Cafe, its spectacular street-food inspired-ish Indian food stands out in the sea of Indian food that composes East London. Unlike the majority of nearby Indian restaurants, you can feel secure as a vegan that what you’re ordering is, in fact, vegan. (I’ve had too many restaurant hawkers on Brick Lane (what are they called?) tell me a little too assuredly not to worry about the ghee.) The first time I went to Dishoom, when I asked my waitress what I could have as a vegan, she whipped out a pen and marked up my entire menu with her notes. It was hilarious and so sweet! Now, I’ve discovered that they have a whole separate dairy-free menu, showing items that are already dairy-free and what could easily be made dairy-free, so it’s a breeze to use that menu and just look for the items marked (v) for vegetarian. Yayyy fun game.
The thing to know about eating at Dishoom is that, if you are doing it right, your mouth will be on fire. Or at least by London standards. It’s hard to find legitimately spicy foods at mainstream restaurants here — they’ll be like, are you sure you want the 3 bells level of spicy wow it’s so spicy, and then it’ll be something you barely taste. And I’m on the wimpier side spicy-wise, so I’m not exaggerating. But Dishoom gets it so right. Some of the stuff (like the gunpowder potatoes, aptly named) is pretty killer, yet the taste of the spice outshines the heat of the spice, which is so important. So good! Oh, also, the other thing to know is that it’s pretty much the darkest restaurant I’ve ever not seen. Like scary ridiculously goth dark, so my pictures are even worse than usual if possible! Wheee! Let’s see what to order.
The thing to know about eating at Dishoom is that, if you are doing it right, your mouth will be on fire. Or at least by London standards. It’s hard to find legitimately spicy foods at mainstream restaurants here — they’ll be like, are you sure you want the 3 bells level of spicy wow it’s so spicy, and then it’ll be something you barely taste. And I’m on the wimpier side spicy-wise, so I’m not exaggerating. But Dishoom gets it so right. Some of the stuff (like the gunpowder potatoes, aptly named) is pretty killer, yet the taste of the spice outshines the heat of the spice, which is so important. So good! Oh, also, the other thing to know is that it’s pretty much the darkest restaurant I’ve ever not seen. Like scary ridiculously goth dark, so my pictures are even worse than usual if possible! Wheee! Let’s see what to order.
Watermelon is safe
First off, the drinks. When you’re about halfway through your wait, you’ll probably have made it to the bar waiting area, where you are given beepers that beep when your table is ready beep beep. Dishoom’s bar has a pretty lovely non-alcoholic section, mainly because it exists, which is rare here. Do yourself a favor and get the watermelon sharbat, which is fresh watermelon muddled with mint, lime, and sea salt and served over ice. It’s REALLY good, and it’s not very sweet, which is perfect if you are a respectable person with a pink drink and not a drunken foo’ on a hen party with a pink drink. Do yourself another favor and DON’T I repeat DON’T be tempted to get the Kala Khatta Sharbat, even though you’re intrigued, even though the bartender LITERALLY tells you that he doesn’t want to make it for you because you will hate it and how can you ignore how tempting that shit is, even when he really begs you and your friends not to try it, even when he begrudgingly concedes that it’s his job to make what you want and that you can try it if you really want to but that you will really still hate it. He’s right, yall. IT’S AWFUL. It’s kokum fruit juice which apparently is in the mangosteen family according to webs but I’d believe it was part of the this-tastes-like-burnt-wood family, chilli (yes, in your drink), citrus (that’s okay), and FREAKING BLACK SALT. Yeah, like the crap we vegans add to shit to make it taste all sulphury like freaking disgusting eggs, they put in this drink. That’s not even the best part: the menu says this mishmash of ingredients better served for making a table are “left to rest” before being strained over ice. It “will take you straight back to Chowpatty beach”, they promise, which now I believe is a threat. Moral of story, don’t get that, even though I’m pretty sure you’re going to try it now because human impulse.
Moving on. The best things, as in any restaurant, are the starters. I will always start with the same things at Dishoom because they are so good: the veg samosa, obviously; the okra fries, even more obviously; and the bhel, not obviously at all because what even is that? My friend the Wayfarer (who is Indian and therefore an expert on Indian food and she really liked Dishoom so there) ordered the bhel one time and I’m obsessed now. It’s like a really interesting bowl of cereal if you added both sweet and savory things and were like, what am I doing, this makes no sense, but it’s delicious. It’s puffed grains with pomegranate seeds, which sounds perfect, but then onions and tomatoes, which is like whaaat, and then lime, tamarind, and mint seasonings and the thing’s just crazy enough to work. It’s really addictive! I would never have thought to try such a messed up bowl of cereal but I’m so glad I did. As for the samosas and the okra fries, come on, it’s fried goodness, get like 4 orders of each and you’ll be okay. Oh also the menu description for the okra fries reads “Fine lady’s fingers for the fingers”. So that’s a plus, I think.
Okra fries, the only good picture because Wayfaring Siv took it, and she’s a freaking award-winning travel photographer who was positively slummin’ it taking pics of my food so yeah it’s actually visible
Samosas, better than samoas or vice vs.? Discuss. |
Bhel is belle |
I also have enjoyed the Far Far in the past, which is described as “carnival snackery”, colorful fried crackery things that are salty and somehow lemony. But they are easily found in my nearby ethnic groceries so they’re not my restaurant constants.
The fun continues with the more-substantial-but-still-small plates. We get to eat vegetables now, with both kachumber and ‘a bowl of greens’. The bowl of greens is usually too overdressed and vinegary and salty for my taste, but I get it every time because I need greens at every meal or I get grumpers. It’s spinach, snow peas, and broccoli with lime and chili, and sometimes it has too much lime, sometimes too much chili. It’s not the most consistent dish on the menu, but it is the most green.
The kachumber is the classic salad that every Eastern culture has, what I’ve always known as Israeli salad but everyone knows as someone else’s. It’s tomato, cucumber, and onion chopped up. You know it. It goes well in falafel wraps. You’re probably thinking, oh kachumber is a cute name that kind of sounds like cucumber, I see why they chose it. No, it actually means beating someone up nicely. Okay monster man.
The fun continues with the more-substantial-but-still-small plates. We get to eat vegetables now, with both kachumber and ‘a bowl of greens’. The bowl of greens is usually too overdressed and vinegary and salty for my taste, but I get it every time because I need greens at every meal or I get grumpers. It’s spinach, snow peas, and broccoli with lime and chili, and sometimes it has too much lime, sometimes too much chili. It’s not the most consistent dish on the menu, but it is the most green.
The kachumber is the classic salad that every Eastern culture has, what I’ve always known as Israeli salad but everyone knows as someone else’s. It’s tomato, cucumber, and onion chopped up. You know it. It goes well in falafel wraps. You’re probably thinking, oh kachumber is a cute name that kind of sounds like cucumber, I see why they chose it. No, it actually means beating someone up nicely. Okay monster man.
Bowl of greens to the left, all you greens to the box on the left or something like that I don’t know
Gunpowder potatoes
I’m pretty sure the most-ordered item at Dishoom is the gunpowder potatoes. I am not basing this on any research or you know even asking an employee, just going by what I believe in. Potatoes are good. These are super spicy potatoes, skins on, smoky and grilled till they crack apart and then tossed with seeds and herbs. They are normally tossed with butter as well, but the dairy-free menu assures you that they can be made without. Given the strength of the dry heat the potatoes give off (like Austin!), I bet butter helps calm the spiciness. If I’m right, that means the dairy-free potatoes are even hotter and more gunpowdery, so vegans are badasses. Nice.
My big bowl of beans, every time
So as you can see, the small plates at Dishoom are pretty great and numerous. Unfortunately, there’s really only one entree for vegans, but it’s really delicious: the Rajma-Chawal. It’s a little cast iron pot (but an enormous portion) of slow-cooked and deeply spiced red kidney beans in a thick, dark red sauce, served over basmati rice and topped with fresh herbs. It’s really good, considering it’s what you’re kind of forced to order. I’m still not upset about the lack of entree options at Dishoom because these damn beans are so delicious, and because by this point in the meal I’m stuffed to the gills anyway of fried littles and random tomato cereal. What I am upset about is that the basmati rice is the only rice or bread accompaniment that is vegan-friendly. No naan here. But that’s okay when there’s a decent offering of vegan dishes at a place where all your omnivore friends will be dying to go, and that’s the best part: Not only is Dishoom the place to see and be seen, maybe, at least regarding hipsters, but it’s the perfect place for a mixed group of eaters.
DISHOOM, SHOREDITCH, LONDON
Water speed: Oh London, please stop it with these little tumblers that are the length of my pinky.
Service: Decent and helpful, but they are hard to flag down because this place is always super heaving with a constantly moving crowd. Such crowd.
Bathrooms: There’s never a line (yay) because there are at least 5 stalls, but they have that weird England-basement-but-sort-of-also-the-camp-kitchen smell.
Food: Good, fun, spicy.
Bonus: It’s like being in an ad for Topshop with all those stockings and shorts combos and all those big floppy hats even at night and all those men with ironic beards and my god I’m surrounded by hipsters.
