The best way to get through the 24/7 holiday madness is to sneak away from what should or could be done for a few hours of something totally unexpected. Recharges the senses. And if a few delicious dishes are par for the course, all the better.
So despite the Mount Everest of work, we scrubbed up and braved the 30-minute logjam to Cecconi's in West Hollywood.
It might have been a Tuesday, and an uncharacteristically chilly one at that in L.A., but the place was heaving. It always is. The ghosts of this location's former iconic identity as Morton's, home of the annual Vanity Fair Oscar party, are definitely gone. It's just so beautiful, from the secluded Butterfly Room, named after the giant heart-shaped Damien Hirst on its south wall, to the two-tone marble floor and the many chain-link Murano glass Giogali chandeliers. Love seasonal touches like the trail of mammoth pomegranates lined up on a marble divider at the entrance. Andy preferred the seasonal detail of a truffles-filled glass jar on a rolling tray nearby.
We immediately met up at the bar with Tim Geary, membership director stateside for the rapidly expanding Soho House, and Markus Anderson, his London-based counterpart. The private members club is finally opening come Oscar time, in the top two floors, some 16,000-square-feet, of a high-rise just up the way from the restaurant at Sunset Boulevard and Doheny. That's convenient not only for members, but Soho founder Nick Jones, who also owns Cecconi's.
Nick appeared as we were a few sips into our absinthe-rimmed Sazeracs. He was just off a plane from Miami, another city on the Soho expansion map, and one giving him a bit of a headache. (What new venture in Miami doesn't make the brain hurt? We're finally opening this weekend there!) But who would know it? His hospitality business might be on the fast track, but Nick is an affable figure that leaves you feeling in the moment.
Andy and I did finally tuck into our table for a late supper. We sat side by side at the teal velvet, button-backed sofa, and took in the glow of the scene over grilled octupus, with lemon and capers and sizeable salads of fall vegetables that could've served as mains. I inhaled my pappardelle with a warming wild boar ragout, and Andy took a similar approach to his crispy branzino filet with olives. We even managed to keep shop talk off the evening's menu.
Photo: Courtesy of Cecconi's site.
So despite the Mount Everest of work, we scrubbed up and braved the 30-minute logjam to Cecconi's in West Hollywood.
It might have been a Tuesday, and an uncharacteristically chilly one at that in L.A., but the place was heaving. It always is. The ghosts of this location's former iconic identity as Morton's, home of the annual Vanity Fair Oscar party, are definitely gone. It's just so beautiful, from the secluded Butterfly Room, named after the giant heart-shaped Damien Hirst on its south wall, to the two-tone marble floor and the many chain-link Murano glass Giogali chandeliers. Love seasonal touches like the trail of mammoth pomegranates lined up on a marble divider at the entrance. Andy preferred the seasonal detail of a truffles-filled glass jar on a rolling tray nearby.
We immediately met up at the bar with Tim Geary, membership director stateside for the rapidly expanding Soho House, and Markus Anderson, his London-based counterpart. The private members club is finally opening come Oscar time, in the top two floors, some 16,000-square-feet, of a high-rise just up the way from the restaurant at Sunset Boulevard and Doheny. That's convenient not only for members, but Soho founder Nick Jones, who also owns Cecconi's.
Nick appeared as we were a few sips into our absinthe-rimmed Sazeracs. He was just off a plane from Miami, another city on the Soho expansion map, and one giving him a bit of a headache. (What new venture in Miami doesn't make the brain hurt? We're finally opening this weekend there!) But who would know it? His hospitality business might be on the fast track, but Nick is an affable figure that leaves you feeling in the moment.
Andy and I did finally tuck into our table for a late supper. We sat side by side at the teal velvet, button-backed sofa, and took in the glow of the scene over grilled octupus, with lemon and capers and sizeable salads of fall vegetables that could've served as mains. I inhaled my pappardelle with a warming wild boar ragout, and Andy took a similar approach to his crispy branzino filet with olives. We even managed to keep shop talk off the evening's menu.
Photo: Courtesy of Cecconi's site.
Comments