Sleep no more

Vespertine, Culver City

RESTAURANTS • First Person

On a cloudy, cool evening last week, a sense of eerie anticipation came over me as I approached Vespertine, chef Jordan Kahn’s restaurant inside the striking Waffle building in Culver City. Had I ever felt this way in the lead-up to dinner? I don’t think so. But I’m not sure there’s ever been a restaurant quite like Vespertine.

Reputed to be as much a multisensory experience as fine-dining destination, the restaurant reopened after a four-year break on Tuesday. In its time away, Vespertine became one of the great mysteries of the L.A. restaurant scene: What, exactly, is Kahn building in there?

Outside Verspertine’s unmarked entrance, three servers in ninja-like uniforms appeared and (doing nothing to dissipate my anxiety) escorted us inside and up through an elevator. When the doors opened to a glass-walled kitchen, we were handed a glass of birch water, and Kahn and his cohort of cooks greeted us.

And then, all at once, I felt calm. Perhaps it was Kahn’s surprisingly warm demeanor. Or the sun setting over Culver City through the glass. Or the immersive soundtrack of field recordings (composed by Icelandic musician Jónsi Birgisson, of Sigur Rós). 

The feeling carried over into the dining room, situated on the purgatorial second floor, designed sparingly with glass semicircular tables and angular black booths. We drank Champagne in light-as-air Zalto stemware, the floral aroma teetering on seductive. The water vessels felt ultra-soft, like an ocean-sanded rock in my hand. Soon, courses began to flow, some with juice pairings made of tree barks, ancient red corn, and kiwi. What was this strange and alluring world I had stepped into?  

When “Vernal,” a dish redolent of earthy pesto consisting of wild onion-and-almond custard, pea miso, and a bouquet of tiny flowers and greens, landed on our table, we were told, “Chef Jordan forages these every morning.” (When I asked from where, they cited the on-site garden. Okay!) Scooping into an inky, iridescent puddle of cream of smoked mussel, topped with a concentrated mussel gelée — called “Obsidian Mirror” — felt almost wrong, like I was hurting someone.

Not all dishes were as emotional. My favorites were a seared scarlet snapper served with a silky, tingly paste made of caramelized papaya, wild beach roses, and timur pepper; sliced quail breast dipped in an emulsion of egg yolk, fermented mushroom, and smoked butter; and a slinky-shaped purple dessert called “Layers,” which tasted like the utmost grown-up version of peanut butter and jelly. The latter was served in “The Gallery” downstairs, accompanied by a Douglas fir tea ceremony.

But the dish that stuck with me most was raw deep sea prawns with quince juice, plum vinegar, aji panca chile, and red gooseberries. Deeply saline, slightly smoky, and shockingly intense, it tasted exactly like “Deep Ocean,” its name. 

I don’t know that I liked it, but it did something. Awoke my senses, maybe. And brought me almost all the way back to that feeling I had before I walked through the door. Vespertine is back, and very much on the edge of fine dining. –Emily Wilson

→ Vespertine (Culver City) • 3599 Hayden Ave • Tues-Sat 6-830p • Reserve.