Damian

Yo Quiero Taco Bell

Newton’s three laws of motion, Dante’s nine circles of hell, the Bible’s seven pillars of wisdom.  Tragedy or comedy, poetry or prose.  Over the centuries, the brilliant minds of humanity have organized, categorized and classified knowledge so that we peons may better comprehend our universe and mankind’s place within it.  Without these geniuses, we would spend our days toiling and spinning, the pages of our book turning, leaf after leaf, until the final close of the cover, unable to fathom life’s mysteries……apologies to my esteemed readers for drifting off into a depressing past of too many years of religious school, too many Saturday nights spent alone in a college dorm room reading Kierkegaard and Nietzsche.  I will try to get the train back on the tracks.

All Angelenos consider themselves expert in the cherished cuisine of our brethren from south of the border.  For anyone bred and born in Alta California, for anyone who built a Spanish mission out of sugar cubes in the fourth grade, Mexican food was a dietary staple.  The family would pile into dad’s station wagon and head down the El Camino Real to Burrito Bandito, Tacolicious or Tequila Mockingbird for a childhood dream meal of unlimited chips and salsa followed by ground beef, refried beans, cheese and rice, whether it be in the form of a taco, a burrito or an enchilada.

In order to assist my readers, and the general public at large, I humbly attempt to join the ranks of the great thinkers of the past with a novel culinary concept:  the levels of Mexican food.  My initial theory, which I attempted to prove by clever experimentation such as Galileo dropping a bullet and a cannonball simultaneously from the Leaning Tower of Pisa, was that there are three levels.  The first level is the fast food version of Taco Bell or Del Taco; a hearty, simple meal, quickly served and consumed that is satisfying to the simplest of tastes, especially the youngsters.  The second level is a sit-down, eat-in restaurant that serves the basic fare of a blended margarita with a rim of salt followed by chips and salsa, burritos, tacos, tostadas, tamales, etc.  The Los Angeles classics of the second level include El Cholo, Casa Vega and El Coyote.  More recently, a third level has materialized of a more sophisticated and urbane take, an haute cuisine of El Águila Real, the golden eagle of Mexico, with inventive twists on the classics.  Mercado and Cascabel are excellent examples that I would recommend.

But like Einstein, I have discovered that what were once thought to be immutable laws of nature were simplifications of a true understanding of the universe.  A previously unknown fourth level has been unearthed; a Mexican restaurant that is completely unique, untethered from the clichés of the tres inferiores.  Of course, one can only see further by standing on the shoulders of giants, so I must give credit to my old college friends who, to prevent malign forces from penetrating their veil of secrecy, go by the code names of John and Mary.  Upon their suggestion, the fourth level wife and I headed to the mas grandé sophisticated and urbane Arts District to meet John and Mary at Damian.

Damian is located discreetly on East 7^th Place, just off Santa Fe Avenue, only a stone’s throw (if you have the arm of a Fernando Valenzuela) from the largest dry concrete river in the world, Rio de Los Angeles.  It is directly across the street from the bestial Bestia.  The exterior is in the trendy converted warehouse-moderne style.

The interior is open, airy and breezy.  A long, narrow dining room is decorated in a theme of lightly colored woods, rustic brick, faux marble and homey plants.  The lively bar was filled with millennials enjoying their potable social lubrication.  The doorway at the back of the dining room opens onto a courtyard of concrete, steel, glass and more greenery where one can also enjoy a meal or drinks.

We started the evening with Damian’s twist on the classic frozen margarita, the yuzu margarita.  The yuzu is the runt of the citrus family with a tart, sour flavor, mid-way between a lemon and a grapefruit.  Hand-crafted Cascahuin Blanco tequila is mixed with Cointreau Giffard triple sec for an extra citrus zest.  The entire concoction is blended with ice then served with a floral accent.

It is de rigueur, or shall I say de rigor, to begin a Mexican dinner, regardless of the level, with guacamole, chips and salsa.  Damian serves freshly made, deep-fried, taco-sized, audibly crunchy corn tortillas with guacamole accented with cilantro and cabbage.  The avocado dip is creamy and smooth, with a subtle chunkiness as hieroglyphically specified in the ancient Aztec calendar.  The salsas vary from a mild chile verde to a Carolina Reaper that leaves the Scoville Scale in its dust.

Although ceviche is better known as the national dish of Peru, one will excuse the cultural appropriation when it is exquisitely served with the freshest of fish with a garnish of a unique green turnip relish, paper-thin yet crispy cucumber slices, green tomatoes and red onions.

The tlayuda is a traditional Oaxacan dish, often described as a Mexican pizza (please again excuse the cultural appropriation).  A large, crispy tortilla can be covered with meat, beans, cheeses, vegetables or, a traditional Oaxacan favorite, chapulines (grasshopper) to add a unique crunch and slightly tangy touch.  Chef Chuy serves a fresh garden salad tlayuda, an excellent starter dish (sans insect).

Since we selected the healthy appetizers, we felt obligated to balance our meal with tamal de ricotta, a massive, caloric twist on the traditional tamale.  A typical ground corn masa tamale is overstuffed with creamy ricotta cheese then drenched in queso fresco and corn cream.  Pre-reserve your cardiac stents.

For our first main course we sampled the Dry Aged Branzino with talla verde, a clever fusion of Mexican tastes with a typically Mediterranean entrée.  Dry aging the fish for several weeks allows the natural enzymes to break down the proteins and fats to result in a more concentrated, complex flavor and an enhanced texture.   The gentle flavors of the branzino are beautifully complemented by a drizzle of the tangy, slightly spicy talla verde, a vibrant green sauce consisting of herbs, chiles and spices.  Normally I don’t eat anything that is looking back at me but this dish is well worth the exception.

A visually stunning Carne Asada was presented as our next main course.  Marinated, grilled, rich, smoky and savory strips of beef are blanketed with a variety of vegetables including pea tendrils for a slightly sweet and grassy note to complement the robust flavor of the meat.  Mole verde of tomatillos, green chiles and herbs adds a zesty grace note to the dish.

For a side dish we tasted the roasted beetroot with mole verde.  Beetroot, of course, is simply a fancy name for the typical beet.  The sweetness and earthiness of the beet is balanced by the mild bite of the mole verde.  I am told by our non-color blind (or shall I say non-alternately color-abled) diners that the deep red and purple hues of the beets contrast wonderfully with the bright green mole verde to create a dazzling and eye-catching appearance.

Damian has elevated the dining from our sister republic south of the Rio Grande to a previously undiscovered fourth level.  Just as the common Chihuahua is the perfect mascot for the first level establishment, the stately ancient Xoloitzcuintli, the national dog of Mexico, named after the Aztec god of fire and lightning, will be the mascot for the fourth.