They say bigger isn't always better, so obviously, they’ve never seen
Honey, I Blew Up The Kid. For a resto from a guy who clearly appreciated the nuanced performances and subtle beauty of the first film, cozy up at The Dining Room.
Scaling things way down from his OLA with this 12-table, Euro-inspired supper club-ish joint, owner Brian Lieberman is rotating his best chefs into a small open kitchen surrounded by a high-ceiling’d dining room with a huge chandelier, candlelight galore, and walls lined with Lieberman family heirlooms, like a photo of Brian’s grandma hosting a night at The Fontainebleau and his dad’s old taxi license, but not a
Crazy Taxi license, although
you can get those in three minutes, and counting down! Classy eatin’ fires up with small plates like Cobia Ceviche w/ yuzu, citrus, red onions, ají limo, and grapefruit sorbet, and serrano-wrapped scallops in foie gras sherry sauce, plus starters like steamed clams w/ roasted grape tomatoes, garlic, ají limo, and royal trumpet mushrooms; and a salad w/ grilled goat cheese, pine nuts, and serrano ham, also what they called Pedro in the dugout while doing that Jobu stuff. The main event features fun like crispy braised pork w/ green mustard, white bean puree & pickled red radish; and hazelnut-herb-crusted rack of lamb w/ confit artichokes, eggplant aioli & beet mojo, basically the one thing Homer didn’t do to his helper monkey,
before he had the computer tell people to pray for him.
Because he’s just that awesome, Brian’s blessing dinner guests with “within reason” free beer and wine into March, including Lote 44 Malbec from Argentina and Cali’s Mountain View Chardonnay, although everything looks like a mountain when you’re 1/100th the size of an Oreo, or Rick Moranis.
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