Farewell To Piccolo

I know a lot of people in Venice were upset to see the venerable Joe's close for business on Valentine's Day, and while I liked Joe's - and it certainly put Venice on the map for food 20 years ago - it was never really my spot. But Piccolo (called Bobo in more recent days, but was always Piccolo to me) was, and it closed for good on Valentine's Day too. So sad.

We loved Piccolo from its inception, because it was right next door to our dear friend Sponto's art gallery, where we spent ridiculous amounts of time. The food was exquisite (if kind of for special occasions), and about the best Italian you could find in all of Los Angeles, and it felt like it was a secret. Like it was ours. At the beach! Perhaps that was the problem, that not enough people knew about the excellent, creative dishes coming out of their kitchen from Chef Bobo Ivan. Or they didn't want to trek to the beach (I guess not everyone could bike or walk there). Or they just wanted spaghetti and meatballs over the truly exquisite, often truffle-accented wonders whipped up at Piccolo. Sad for them.

Our last meal was so, so good ... while at the same time poignant, where you had to really savor it, because we didn't know when we'd be tasting Bobo's food again - or where. And neither does he. I know that feeling, and it can be daunting, but when you're as talented as Bobo is ... it's all good. Probably even better, as I told him, because he's had to deal with all the financial and business drama, when he really should just be free to work his magic at his stoves. Sigh ...

So we ate. The most perfect scallops ever ...

Bobo was maybe showing off for the last weekend, because our squid ink pasta with lobster was just out of this world. My mouth is watering looking at the photo again. Seriously.

A whole bunch of dishes followed, and as the wine went down easy to drown our sorrows, it soon became a blur of food and laughs and talks and then ... dessert.

This tray of delights showed up with everything from profiteroles to pineapple tartar ... which we devoured and I think even licked up those colorful dots of sauce. And then it was finished.

We said our reluctant goodbyes, and I looked at Sponto's old chandelier, the chandelier that has lit up so many of our good times (and had better wind up in good hands!), and I just felt like crying. For Piccolo and Bobo, but also for Venice. It seems as though every day lately, we're hearing about another longtime Venice institution being closed in the name of "Progress" which to all of us reads as simply greed grown out of control.

I feel like a broken record, but someone has to keep saying it. Someone has to try and urge people to have some bigger vision, to have some pride of place over the dollar. I wasn't born and raised here in Venice, no, but that almost makes it worse for me. I loved it here so much that I chose to move my life away from dear friends and family and a wonderful city (Minneapolis - all still as dear to me as ever) to live here. Because it was different. Because it was a town full of originals. Because you can feel the creativity in every breath of ocean air you take in. Because I felt like it was ME - and my kind of People. To me, that's worth fighting for. That's worth sounding like a broken record. So, I will.

Farewell to our beloved Piccolo. Best of luck to Bobo and his team. Most of all, best of luck to Venice itself, that we may weather this storm of greed, and tech companies that don't get it, and continue to have Venice as a last vestige of cool in an increasingly SAME world.

Batten down the hatches.

Bobo Venice - In Bobo We Trust

Piccolo on Dudley Avenue in Venice had always been one of my very favorite restaurants in all of Los Angeles. It was a beautiful place, serving some of the finest Italian food anywhere in the world, according to many reviews. Chef Bobo Ivan has been there on Dudley since Piccolo opened in 2005, and has now reopened in the same space as Bobo ... with just about the same wonderful menu. The same warm glow from inside beckons you in to what you know will end up being a special and culinarily spectacular meal. Every time.

Ivan became a friend over the years, though you wouldn't see him much as he was running all over town, expanding to two separate Hostaria del Piccolo restaurants (on on Rose Avenue in Venice, and one in Santa Monica), opening the gorgeous Ciboteca restaurant/market in Santa Monica, and planning a new Piccolo in the old Powerhouse Theater, also in Santa Monica, while also cooking and operating the original Piccolo (now Bobo) location. He was a busy dude.

Too busy, as it turns out, and with the added pressure of having multiple investors wanting different things, the decision was made to close all but the Dudley location, close that for a couple months to regroup, and reemerge as Bobo, while still working on the future Piccolo location. Bobo has now been firing on all burners again since late September, and I'm so happy Chef Bobo and his team are back in action ... it's truly some of the best food you'll ever eat.

I used to kind of save Piccolo for special occasions, because it wasn't cheap, nor should it have been with its very high top shelf quality. Bobo has the same amazing food, with the concept of "Eat less, taste more" as it's touchstone. The portions are smaller, but that is to say they are the perfect size. I honestly could not eat on more bite of anything I had, so exactingly apportioned were they. The tastes are out of this world, and each dish is unique, special, and entirely delicious. The scallops. Oh, my. Even the TONGUE that I've never had before, but I trust Chef Bobo. In fact, the tasting menu is called "In Bobo We Trust", and that's exactly what you should do.

Dishes appeared on our table, each plated and tasting more wonderful than the last. Bobo does a caprese salad, deconstructed into like heirloom tomato jelly, with creamy burrata and basil on top. SO good. The carbonara is made with quail instead of bacon. It was one of the best I've ever had, and totally original.

This is the after picture, if that tells you anything. (They have great plates too).

As we're inching into fall, we had a pumpkin gnocchi with sage sauce that was ridiculous, and chased down with the Italian wines and Prosecco from the exact region of Italy where Chef Bobo is from. He is from Venice, and always wanted to leave and travel, so decided that a Chef's life would allow him that. It certainly has. After growing up in a family where his parents didn't cook, Chef Bobo has now cooked all over the world, and now Venice, California is exactly where he wants to be.

We reminisced about our friend Sponto while we ate our faces off ... his gallery was located in the exact spot where we were dining, a fact acknowledged on the menu as being a "Historical landmark". So true ... the Solstice parties that took place while diners ate their pasta at the little outside tables, watching all the mayhem next door. The many Sponto sessions spent talking and laughing under his chandelier, that now hung right above us, almost like the angel that Sponto now is. They were great and special times, and we both know and knew it. Those times are also why we're so adamant now about keeping Venice cool, keeping it original.

Bobo is doing just that. His menu is like no one else's, and he is at the forefront of what he calls "Bistronomy" - really good, very high quality food at affordable prices. Simple as that. Chef Bobo is also a musician, and says that with music, like his food, "You have to put it down somehow." You have to have a creative outlet, and Bobo's art is clearly that for him, with bites that you've never thought of blowing your mind throughout your meal. Keeping with the music, Chef Bobo is setting up a vinyl record player, so customers can bring in their own records to dine to. I love it.

I hear of locals driving all the way downtown or Hollywood for their Italian dinners, and while that's fine once in a while, we all need to remember that one of THE preeminent Italian chefs in our country is cooking right there between Speedway and The Boardwalk. Like walk or bike (in heels) to your fine dining right in your own backyard.

While our eyes were rolling back in our heads over the fantastic dessert platter brought out by our wonderful server, Tommaso (that gold leaf chocolate cake! The deconstructed tiramisu!) and sharing stories of our sister cities, Venice and Venice, Chef Bobo looked out at the fog rolling in from the ocean and said, "This is my dream. I'm cooking, there is the beach, it's perfect. I wasn't expecting Venice, Italy here, but it is. And our Venice needs to stay special."

I couldn't agree more. It's my dream to eat food like this right by the beach, and our Venice certainly needs to stay special. Bobo Venice is for sure doing its part ... it's very, very special.

Bobo Venice
5 Dudley
Venice
#310.314.3222
www.theBoboway.com

Abbot Kinney's Capri

We know all about Abbot Kinney's dream for an American Venice, but we also have an American Capri here. Alona Cooke's Capri Restaurant on Abbot Kinney came about in a kind of similar fashion too. After many visits to the Italian island of Capri (including a memorable 11th birthday trip), she wanted to recreate a place that shared the vibe of the Capri cafes she'd eaten and felt comfortable at, in her own town - Venice, CA. Twenty years later, Capri has catered to locals and tourists alike, and watched out its windows as Abbot Kinney Boulevard has morphed and shifted.


Alona grew up in West Covina, California, the daughter of parents who liked to travel - and eat - a lot. They'd go to Europe by ship, and young Alona developed a palate for good food, and a curiosity for trying new things. She was interested in architecture and design, and studied at Long Beach State, but wasn't positive about the direction she wanted her life to take. She got political, and did a lot of speaking on behalf of Women's Rights, moving to L.A. proper in the middle of it all. There she befriended a group of artists (dating Chuck Arnoldi for a bit), who encouraged her to join them in moving down to Venice, which was still real cheap and ever-funky.

The first house Alona lived in was on the canals, and she opened a little clothing shop where Cafe Collage is now, called "Chi Chi Del Rey", where all the local girls bought their bikinis and cute dresses. After that stint, she started getting freelance design work, to decorate homes and stores, but it wound up not being as fun or social as she'd imagined, and she started to think about other lines of work. That led to her being a founding owner of the West Beach Cafe (now James' Beach), because she just wanted a good cup of coffee, she says, and the West Beach was the first place to have a legitimate espresso machine. She and the other owner parted ways after a while, and Alona began thinking about a place of her own.


While traveling around Italy to look at furniture and things for design clients, Alona kept thinking about all the great little cafes on Capri, and how she'd find one she loved, and would keep eating there night after night, because it was just how she liked it. Relaxed, no scene, good Italian food, good wine, and cool people for regulars. That was it. "I just do it", says Alona, "I have a vision and I make it happen."

Yes, she did. She found the little place on Abbot Kinney that Capri still resides at (1616), and knew she would call it Capri, as "There's just something very special and magical about that place". The size of it was little, like Capri, and it just fit. Since 1989, Capri has been serving great food (honestly, every bite I've ever had there has been delicious) to the locals, and tourists love it because they can always get a table, a good meal with delicious wine, warm hospitality, and Venice flavor all at once.

I sat down to chat with Alona last week, and right off the bat, she gave me an education via a demonstration about how the different size and shape (both matter) of the glasses she poured our wine into, made a drastic difference as to bouquet, flavor and feel. Even subtle differences in shape were uncanny, and I humbly apologize to any people I waited on in college who I thought were bitchy for being super particular about the glass their wine came in (though it was a glass tumbler kind of joint).

Alona's didactic flow continues, with seminar brunches from a James Beard Award winning cookbook author here, and a wine tasting from a California vintner there, with something interesting to glean every time. Capri hosts special events all the time, like closing down last year to host our dear friend, Erinn and Tim's, wedding ceremony right there in the dining room. Special, special memories have gone down in this room, and you sense that every time you clink a glass.


As far as local flavor goes, right now Alan Shaffer's Neighborhood Numbnuts photo exhibition is up on the Capri walls, featuring photos of and works by the guys around the neighborhood named Moses, Conal, Edge, Dill, and Bell. This again, education, in local art is up until August 28th, when it will soon thereafter be replaced by a show of surf art ... just in time for Summer, if it ever arrives.


Alona has been feeding food, drink, stories, and fun to Abbot Kinney denizens all along, as fancier, newer restaurants open and close all up and down the street. Capri is a place that just feels like it's always been there, so you can forget about it as a dining option with all the hoopla going on around it. Being that place that feels like it's always been there isn't easy, and I'm so glad that I got to dig a little deeper into the story behind what is a true neighborhood landmark. I also got to dig a little deeper into some delectable swordfish with light fluffy mashed potatoes and crisp zucchini, with my gorgeous red wine (in the perfect glass for it).


The people of Venice amble by outside, there is no rush to turn you out of your table, and everything just feels comfortable, cozy and, best of all, easy. This is real, old school, artist Venice, and Alona invites you to "C'mon down!" anytime ... because "You gotta get up to get down". Exactly.


Rediscover Capri Restaurant ... it's delicious.

And located at:

1616 Abbot Kinney Blvd.
Venice, 90291
310.392.8777