Destination Dining: Knife Modern Steak

Cutting Edge

You've got to hand it to Chef John Tesar.  He is always tinkering and improving and reconceptualizing food in creative, unexpected ways.  After regaining the fifth star for the dining room at the Mansion on Turtle Creek, he started the craft burger concept in Dallas, opened Spoon Bar and Kitchen to national acclaim, and now has opened Knife Modern Steak at the Hotel Palomar, thankfully ending Central 214's hotel-restaurant-trying-to-be-a-contender's mundane approach to unfocused dining.  It never worked and I am glad it's gone, especially since Knife is so sharp on so many levels.  One note:  this is not just another steak house. Nope, Chef Tesar has invented something more akin to a Palace O'Meat.

We paid our first visit to Knife last night, and instantly noticed the modern touches to the restaurant design that made it relevant and exciting, not the least of which was a huge display of dry-aging steaks in a cabinet near the perky hostess.  It was sort of like those call girls in Amsterdam who pose in windows casting come-hither looks at lustful passersby.  As I walked by the case I swear one of the steaks whispered something naughty to me.

Front Row Center

We were seated at the Chef's Counter, an area reserved I guess maybe for two tops, and lucky for us it was like sitting in the front row of a Broadway Play, because we were practically in the kitchen we were so close to the action.  Dining As Theater!  It was fun watching the chefs man and woman their different stations.  One blonde in particular was fascinating to watch because she moved with such precision and self-assuredness.  All the chefs had little earphones and the expediter was whispering commands from the end of the line like a CIA operative.  (Hmmm...Culinary Institute of America is referred to as CIA too. I wonder if alongside knife skills and molecular gastronomy they practice at the shooting range and engage in Spy vs Spy games.)  It's a high wire act to allow guests this close to the kitchen since you can't always anticipate absent-minded nose-picking and the five second rule allowing food dropped on the floor to be wiped off and served is strictly verboten.  But the chefs were all scrupulous and disciplined and absolutely wordless as they went about their work producing food for this hustling, energetic restaurant.

Garden of Eatin'

I know Chef John from previous business shenanigans, and he thoughtfully sent out a platter of crudites artfully strewn over ice.  Tiny radishes, endive, baby carrots, and lithe stalks of celery were presented with some house-made Green Goddess dressing. (I've always thought of crudites as something a suburban housewife would offer guests in her split level home along with a glass of chilled chablis in the 70's, but this was an elegant, sophisticated and delicious update that proved once again that I don't know everything.)

I ordered a watermelon and heirloom tomato salad (refreshing and cold, with a lagniappe of house-made beef jerky) and Don had the French Onion Soup with about 17 pounds of melty, gooey cheese burnished on top. Yum!  Our waiter brought over a towering stack of possibly the best onion rings I've ever had, and John sent over some cream of spinach that was delightfully light and not overly loaded with garlic and cholesterol.

Tower of Power

The menu is divided into unusual sections:  Raw, Soups and Salads, New School (a selection of less expensive, less familiar beef cuts such as Culotte, Chuck Flap, and Tri Tip), Slabs, Slices (including a five piece bacon flight--quite original!) Old School (Rib Eyes, Lamb Chops, Roast Chicken, Pork Chop) Sides, Pasta, and John's famous Burgers, including the Magic, which is brilliantly served on an English Muffin so the juices can race to and cuddle up in all the little nooks and crannies.  I had one of his Magic Burgers at Cedars Social as well as his late, lamented Commissary, and I still have the napkins I used to wipe my face and hands under the seat of my car as a sort of masculine, meaty sachet.)

We both had the Tri Tip--my favorite cut of beef because although it is lean it is so very flavorful, and when it is cooked right, as it was perfectly done at Knife, it is tender as well.  (In the hands of a lesser chef it can be chewy and stringy but still delicious.)  We were so stuffed we couldn't finish the steaks, which were modestly priced at $25, and the waiter put the remaining hunks of meat in a little brown box inside a giant white, logoed take home bag.  He also brought us a gift wrapped Madeleine since we hadn't had the stomach or inclination for dessert.

Even with a couple of drinks the damage was south of $100, an astonishing deal for food this good. Knife is cutting edge cuisine no matter how you slice it.  Do yourself a favor and get there--you'll get the point.