I’m not sure that I could have written this review a few years ago. To understand the difference between a good meal and a great meal requires having had enough great meals at great establishments to work up an operating language. I worked in a video store for half a decade and I’ve seen probably over 10,000 movies in my lifetime. I’ve got a pretty good command of film language. I’ve been reading and writing for over thirty years, so I’ve probably got a working vocabulary well into the five digit range. After about a half decade of eating well at enough varied locations, I think I’m in a pretty good position to make judgments about quality and experience. Patina is the crown jewel in the Splichal Patina Group empire, and there are cracks in the gem. I assure you, this is one of L.A.’s best restaurants, but it is missing an essential component. It is a refined, elegant room with an incredibly friendly and attentive staff. The waiters and busboys operate smoothly, functioning as a team to cater to your experience. The Sommelier is gregarious, knowledgeable, and knows his wine list has something for every taste. Ingredients are of outstanding quality, there is no question these are market fresh vegetables, top choice meats, and the best fish from the finest fisheries. But somehow, each of the dishes, while having excellent flavor and precision, were missing the pizzaz one looks for when dining in a world-class building, built for a stellar orchestra, in a city known for favoring the bold over the cautious. The Tahitian vanilla underneath the heirloom tomatoes was interesting, the black bass over beets and ginger was a fine combination of flavors, and my truffle risotto, grated fresh at table, was a rare treat. But each dish felt almost Germanic in its structure, and monochromatic in range. It’s hard to fault a restaurant for its lack of daring. But when we’re talking about a restaurant that has a monopoly lock on L.A.’s art landmarks it ought to be as daring as the work inside. The truth is that the art in L.A.’s landmark museums isn’t as good as what’s happening on the street, and the food probably reflects that very same reality. If you have people coming into town looking for a fine dining experience, you won’t be disappointed at Patina. But it’s rather like MOCA’s definition of “conteporary art”, which happens to stop at 1970. A highlight of the meal was the cheese wagon and the Japanese fromagier who customized two cheese plates ranging from mild and smooth to “fasten your seat belts” rough and rangy. The rough and rangy was a sheep/cow/goat monstrosity that burned the tongue and sent stinky fumes from our mouths in a wild blast. The truffle cheese was by far the best I’ve had, mellow and perfectly infused. But the duo of triple-washed rinds had me blissing out and rolling my eyes. For $21 a plate, they provided more and better cheese than the $25 plate at Ford’s Filling Station, so that’s a huge plus in Patina’s favor. In short, Patina is very, very expensive and very, very safe for elegant dining. But if you’re looking for flair, this ain’t it.For the price and complexity of the experience, I desperately wanted to have my socks knocked off.
(213) 972-3331, 141 South Grand Ave, Los Angeles