Vespertine

"Writer Oren Peleg pens a feature in the New Yorker on the otherworldly music created by Jónsi Birgisson, who leads Icelandic avant-garde rock band Sigur Rós, Paul Corley, and C.J. Baran for Culver City fine dining restaurant Vespertine. The earlier versions of the restaurant featured tunes by This Will Destroy You, though the new score goes for something more visceral, like birds chirping, reeds clicking, and a plane flying overhead. Vespertine received its two Michelin stars back and even got a new green star to celebrate its commitment to sustainability earlier this month." - Matthew Kang

"Vespertine is a Rorschach test. What you take away from this four-hour-long, avant-garde tasting menu in Culver City depends on your perspective and, maybe more importantly, what kind of experience you expect from a dinner that costs $1000 for two, at minimum, after tax and tip (and yes, we realize some of your have already walked away from your screen at this point). If your main priority is an utterly one-of-a-kind, carefully orchestrated dining experience—one that involves finely tuned service, a dining room that looks like a spaceship, and Icelandic synth music—there’s a reality where Vespertine’s steep price is palatable. But if you’re expecting food that is uniformly delicious or, in some cases, simply tastes good, save yourself the anguish (and the money). photo credit: Sylvio Martins Vespertine is from the same chef behind Destroyer, an experimental daytime spot we love, and Meteora, a quirky prehistoric-themed spot that left us less impressed. Vespertine has its fair share of quirk, too, but its setting is undeniably cool. It lives inside a wavy, mesh-like building nicknamed “The Waffle,” and dinner comes with a walk-through of the three-story space, starting in its concrete garden where you’re served sweet birch sap soda, followed by a kitchen tour from a soft-spoken server dressed in a robe. Once you’re seated in The Waffle’s belly, at a see-through acrylic table, you’re offered drink pairings (alcoholic or nonalcoholic), as well as the option to tack on caviar and wagyu, which at a restaurant so focused on obscure ingredients, feels like a gratuitous attempt to squeeze more money out of big spenders. photo credit: Sylvio Martins photo credit: Sylvio Martins photo credit: Sylvio Martins photo credit: Sylvio Martins photo credit: Sylvio Martins Vespertine’s food, to put it bluntly, is all over the place. Some courses are fairly tasty, including hoja santa cigars stuffed with quail and a bowl of spring flowers and peas that sit like breakfast cereal in almond cream. But others are simply unpleasant to consume, like a diabolical black goo made of oyster cream and gelatinized smoked mussel with a slick of pungent seaweed oil on top or a squishy aerated scallop floating in sour passion fruit juice. Your food will arrive on ice luges, mini sarcophagi, or handmade pottery—and be accompanied by breathless monologues about how those tiny prawns lived 2500 feet below the sea or how that cube of veal was strictly raised on its mother’s milk—but ultimately, most of the savory courses don’t live up to the pomp with which they’re delivered. If there’s a high point at Vespertine, it’s the dessert courses. You’re guided downstairs into a quiet room for a “tea ritual” and served what are the best dishes of the evening: a bowl of “milk jam” topped with a disc of not-too-sweet, frozen birch sap that you smack with your spoon. There's a salty lamb fat donut that’s intense on its own but pleasant once dipped in a scotch whipped cream, and a futuristic version of a French entremet that looks like a purple tornado swirling into a pool of tart black raspberry gel. Each one is creative, complex, and unexpectedly delicious in a way that made us wonder, what if they just made the whole meal out of dessert? Unfortunately, that’s not the case, and slogging through the uneven parts of Vespertine doesn’t outweigh the glimmer of hope at the end. We have no doubt there is a type of diner who will be impressed by Vespertine. They’re someone who loves the theatrics and drama of fine dining, geeks out over intricate plating and peculiar flavors, and ideally has a lot of money to burn. But if we’re going to spend that much on dinner, we’d rather do it at a place where the actual food is as satisfying as the performance. Food Rundown The “Immersive, Multi-Sensory Event” Vespertine's 13-course seasonal tasting menu costs $395 per person and is the only option available, save for optional caviar, truffle, and wagyu add-ons. Unless you're truly starving, you’ll likely walk away full afterward. That is if you finish every course. The four-hour ordeal begins with an intro at the concrete garden, followed by a kitchen tour, dinner service, and a “tea ceremony” downstairs where you order your personal pot from a tea sommelier and finish off with a few desserts. Drink Pairings Vespertine offers three pairings that are optional, but don't necessarily feel that way (unless you're fine drinking water all night). There's a high-end $295 "Vinifera" pairing, a $175 "Dynamic" pairing, and a $125 non-alcoholic "Vitality" pairing. The red sakes and aged Italian reds in the dynamic pairing are nice, but that’s not what you’re here for. The vitality pairing is much weirder and far more interesting, which is usually a good thing. Expect beverages like tart kiwi and verbena juice, rhubarb kombucha, and a chanterelle tea that tastes like a log cabin with a mildew problem." - Sylvio Martins

"Vespertine, a two-Michelin-starred restaurant by Jordan Kahn, was another significant workplace for Scribner. Despite the initial thrill, the intense environment led to severe burnout, showcasing the challenging nature of high-end dining." - Cathy Chaplin

"Kahn’s other restaurant, Vespertine, was the subject of an investigation into its work culture." - Rebecca Roland

"Chef Jordan Kahn heads up Vespertine, which was one of Los Angeles’ few Two Michelin Starred restaurants until the place shuttered during the pandemic. (Vespertine is slated to reopen later this year.) But at his more relaxed, rustic, and earthy Meteora––an abode that looks plucked out of Tulum, Mexico––the focus is wild and organic, hyper seasonal ingredients. The kitchen here works in tandem with the bar to ensure there’s zero waste, meaning ingredients are cross-utilized from cup to plate. Guest can sign up for the spirit-free drink pairing that aligns with the dining room tasting menu (mocktails are also available in the bar/lounge à la carte); Kahn explains that when designing the zero-proof pairings, the team looks for “inherent qualities of ingredients and [applies] them to our beverage in a way that makes a logical link to the dish with which it will pair.”" - Kat Odell