Words with a Water Sommelier: Martin Riese of Patina Group

Today's column will turn wine into water. That's because the subject is Martin Riese, certified water sommelier for the Patina Group, specifically Ray's & Stark Bar at LACMA. It turns out the German-born Riese and water go way back. "When I was four years old and would go on vacation with my parents, the most interesting thing to me was to taste the tap water in different cities," he remembers. But it wasn't until 2005 that he came to his calling, for as he recalls, "A customer said to me, 'You have so many wines on your list, but only one water,' and I thought, 'He's absolutely right!' We're all about options in the restaurant world -- how many beers, how many wines -- well, water has a huge variety of tastes."

Want to read the rest then do so at KCET's Food Blog.

A Yellowtail That Doesn't Fail

This isn't about the cocktails, as I've blogged before about those, not that they weren't once again wonderful. This isn't about the brilliant little box that is Ray's, surprisingly warm on a rainy LA day (does too happen!), managing the shift to dusk while never growing dim, or its clever tables with drawers that hide-away the silver service. This isn't about the service, perfectly professional and even better knowing the menu inside out--our waiter seemed able to describe each dish as if he had a hand in cooking it. Very helpful when trying to decide between the sturgeon and the pork belly. But this isn't about that pork belly, either, one of the best I've ever had, taking the dish past its trendiness through execution (that great crispy top) and balance (the sweet fat cut with the acid of a vinegary sauce).

No, this is about the Hamachi, pictured above. Stop to admire it. Even an iPhone can capture much of its beauty, and this is at an art museum, after all, so looks do count for something. (Worse yet, an LA art museum, so looks perhaps count for everything.) Be sure to check the accoutrements, for those teensy mushroom caps, like umbrellas for the black sesame seed crumble, aren't just gorgeous, but pickled just enough that their earthy-shroominess has one more register--how can something that small still taste like what it's supposed to be? And then those tangerines; if the flattened golf-ball-sized ones at farmers' markets are Pixies, what are these, Pixie dust? But again, their size belies their kick.

All that said, there's no denying the plate's star is the hamachi. Perhaps there needs to be a grade higher than sashimi grade for fish this good. I always think such a clean taste, but that's obviously not the right word as clean makes it seem like there's no taste and that's far from the truth. It's a purity, fish denying it could ever get fishy. Set off with the aji amarillo vinaigrette, with the taste equivalent of a mere knee-bend of a kick, it was magnificent. I came close to changing my main order and telling our waiter to keep bringing plates of that till I swam out. Perhaps getting back and forth to LA and Ray's and Stark Bar would be easier if I could swim and not drive.

It's Not a Shame about Ray's

Too often instead of thinking "Hey, the people who come to us love art, so have an aesthetic sense, so want to eat good food," museums seems to reason, if their cafes/restaurants can be taken as evidence of some thinking, that "these folks are captive, let's give them whatever means we make the most ducats." That might be changing, though. Obviously right here in Santa Barbara we have Brenda Simon doing fascinating, delicious things at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art, if only: 1) it was open longer hours, 2) there was a direct State Street entrance, 3) if she had a real kitchen, there (well, maybe 3--the absence of one has led her to do some wonderful raw dishes, and SB could use some of those).

But this post isn't about the joys of the Santa Barbara Museum Cafe. It's about the new-ish and very exciting Ray's and Stark Bar at LACMA. We headed LA-ward this past weekend doing one of those culture-jam one day visits: two places to eat, one museum, a tiny bit of shopping, and a play in 8 hours. Since we were Father's Office-ing later, but not much (as the play's curtain was 7 pm), we decided to bar snack it at the Stark Bar, which is anything but (it's not named after the adjective but rather Ray Stark, Hollywood bigwig and longtime LACMA supporter). They've got Bar Bites for you, mainly flatbreads and a variety of cheeses, but also things more surprising for a mini-menu, like bone marrow (I'm still trying to figure out how to convince my pescatarian partner that marrow isn't really an animal product so we can share) and shisito peppers, although theirs were much zingier and longer than the ones I've usually had; be sure you've got your water service before digging in, with the surprising heat, the lovely sea salt, and light dose of sesame vinaigrette all driving you to drink.

Not that you won't be able to drink drinks, too, but these cocktails are too good to down merely as fire extinguishers. I enjoyed a Smokey and the Bandit (guess the film's producer?), a brilliantly balanced concoction of Laphroaig 10yr Cask Strength, honey, orange, and lemon peel, perfect for a LA wintery day. Actually, the heatlamps blasted, so I might have cooked my neck a bit, but I certainly wasn't well chilled, like my cocktail. Chryss opted to try out one of the seasonal hot cocktails, a very adult variation of a hot chocolate called a Oaxacan Holiday made with dark rum house-infused with cocoa nibs, crème de cacao, chocolate chili bitters, freshly whipped cream, and grated nutmeg our divine bartender Microplaned with intense precision. There are plenty of other items we didn't get to--this was a mid-day drinking with craft beers in our near future--with a wonderful display of garnis, from mint leaves on ice to star anise, across the bartop, all ready to finish off each exacting cocktail.

In addition to the peppers we shared a sage flatbread, pleasantly puckered and offering sage grown right behind the restaurant (the localest of LA herbs), Sottocenere truffle cheese, and maitake mushrooms.These are perfect light lunches, especially with the liquor kicker. (The wine list looked wisely chosen and fairly priced, too.)

Culture can be so civilized, this way.