Jacaranda: The Tree and the Restaurant

Both in full bloom.

One of LA’s jacaranda trees in bloom. Photo by Evan Kleiman

I love jacarandas. Often during bloom season, I drive down Maple or Oakhurst in Beverly Hills, where the tops of the trees meet from both sides of the street to create an arch of purple to drive through. If you long to see them, here’s a map to the blooms throughout the city. When I bought my house, there were no trees on my street. It was a street of beautiful duplexes, but it looked a bit bleak without trees. A neighbor and I spearheaded the planting of trees in the parkway. People choose jacarandas or a type of sycamore. I was pushing for everyone to get jacarandas so one day our street would be an arch of purple, but choice, you know. I understand that people hate it when flowers drop on their cars, but the way that color, en masse, massages my brain for a couple of weeks each year is worth it.

I love that Daniel Patterson and Sarah Lewitinn’s new restaurant is named Jacaranda and that when you walk in, periwinkle greets you. And I love even more that they managed to open when the trees are in bloom all over the city. The dining room is intimate, and the color from Adele Renaut’s painting gives an unexpected touch of feminine energy.

I am not a fine dining person. I am not a tasting menu person. I am easily intimidated and can quickly become overwhelmed, too full, and antsy. But their restaurant is a dream. The room is small with only thirty seats, so it is immediately intimate. Sarah’s approachable vibe in the dining room releases any fear that this might be a pretentious experience.

Chef Daniel Patterson and Sarah Lewitinn. Photo by Wonho Frank Lee.

The atmosphere was like a very special secret neighborhood restaurant, but with world-class food. This might be the best meal I’ve ever had in a restaurant. Or at least my favorite. Younger chefs take note. You don’t need to over-salt food to get the diner’s attention. If you’re a fan of Gillian Ferguson’s Market Report on Good Food, this is your place. Daniel’s ability to transform vegetables while emphasizing their essence and maintaining their integrity is literally unbelievable. I’m not a restaurant critic, so I leave it to others to do a deep descriptive dive, but one chef friend keeps using the word “harmonious.”

Almost all the dishes from my dinner at Jacaranda. Photos by Wonho Frank Lee.

The artichoke (top left) was my favorite. Artichoke on artichoke on artichoke. A triumph. The bowl of market vegetables in the center was masterful. The shaved cherimoya ice (bottom left), including a surprise of cherries on the bottom, and the Fruit Anarchy (bottom right) were a fitting end to the evening. That’s a piece of candied citron in the back.

Daniel Patterson is a chef at the height of his powers who has intimate knowledge of California produce. He transforms and presents it to us with a deft hand. He also wants to be back in the kitchen doing what he loves to do and knows the kind of life he wants to lead and what kinds of choices he and Sarah need to make to achieve that. The whole thing is damn impressive.

Fruit Anarchy. From the top going clockwise. Candied citron, raspberry, Pakistani mulberry, white Persian mulberry, and in the center, a kumquat filled with apricot jam from pastry chef Matthew Tinder. Photo by Gillian Ferguson.

I, with KCRW, am lucky to be able to bring you experiences and insights like these because of the support of our donors. Public media is something I’ve long supported, and will always be something I invest in personally. This was probably instilled in me at one of my first jobs when I was a teenager, working at the local PBS station.

Even when I wasn’t making much money decades ago, I gave what I could because I learned that the foundation of public media is the supportive, trusting relationship between you (the public) and me. I’m able to channel my curiosity about food as a kaleidoscope in a way that encourages you to look out into this diverse world and see all the different colors. I get to do that by earning your trust and support. We create a community from this interaction, which is very special and always a wonderful surprise.

If you’re already a KCRW member, thank you, and consider boosting your support to keep this community thriving. If you’re new here and you’d like to join us, give what you can and protect what you trust.

Digestibles

I read so much that I was an early adopter of the Kindle. I got tired of lugging three or four books with me to Italy. Now, I still read on the device, but I get most of my books from Libby, the library app. This is the reading I’ve downloaded to ensure I have no time when my eyes will not be occupied on the flights (and lazy late evenings).

I haven’t seen the movie, but it seems like Andy Weir’s Project Hail Mary is a good 11-hour plane ride book. Just in case I can’t get into it, I also have Louise Penny’s The Madness of Crowds (I get nervous when I’m coming to the end of a series), and Ms. Mebel Goes Back to the Chopping Block. I love Jesse Q. Sutanto’s Mrs. Wong detective series, so I’ll go along with this culinary cozy. Meanwhile, I’m still reading Eve Babitz and Edith Wharton. I completely forgot that Eve went to John Marshall High School for a minute.

I love Nigella Lawson, and one reason I love her right now is that she has revisited the topic of cooking for one in her latest essay for the Financial Times. Did I ever see myself having a subscription to that periodical? No, but Nigella. Hat tip to the new cookbook store, Wild Sorrel in NYC. I plan to read her latest take on the subject and re-read her 2004 article for the NY Times.

The Tiny Joy Project

Milk Farm has ricotta salata, even though one of my cheese gurus, Janet Fletcher of Planet Cheese, says it’s hard to find. You should read her post about it. All of us need to use more ricotta salata, and you’ll need it for a recipe I’m going to share in a couple of weeks.

Luca is trying hard.