Los Angeles Times - 29.08.2019

LATIMES.COM/FOOD THURSDAY, AUGUST 29, 2019F3

Vincenzo Marianella is often credited as the guy who brought craft

cocktails to Los Angeles.

“That’s why they call me ‘the old man,’ ” he joked.

Marianella was behind the bar at Providence when it opened in 2005

and, in the years since leaving, has worked as a consultant when he

wasn’t making drinks at Copa d’Oro in Santa Monica, which closed in

February.

Now he’s at chef Brendan Collins’ Fia, a 300-seat, seafood-focused

California-meets-Amalfi Coast restaurant in Santa Monica. “We’re going

to have two bars with two separate identities,” said Marianella,

explaining that the outdoor patio bar will be dining-oriented while the

indoor bar is more lively.

With a lengthy drink menu designed to cater to both, Marianella plans

to make the produce-driven cocktails that earned him early acclaim,

along with spirits-forward Italian flavors, as in this drink, That’s Amaro.

It’s a bracing combination of grappa, amari and bitters.

— Heather Platt

Myung J. ChunLos Angeles Times

There’s no point burying the
lede: Antico makes probably the
best ice cream I’ve had anywhere
in Los Angeles and possibly west
of the Rockies. While this is no
small feat, is a restaurant worth
going to based on that and that
alone? Again, I’m going to say
probably yes.
Antico’s ice cream is impossibly
smooth, with a texture somewhere
between Häagen-Dazs and a
McDonald’s soft-serve cone. A
strawberry version made with
Harry’s Berries is light and bright
like a gelato but with a long, fruity
hangtime you would associate
with higher fat content. The choc-
olate ice cream is somehow even
more ethereal; it’s practically a
sorbet, made with just milk solids
and no cream whatsoever, but
with a deep, dense chocolatey-
ness that growls and purrs like a
Ferrari F8.
It doesn’t hurt, of course, to
have a Carpigiani, the Ferrari of
ice cream machines, sitting in the
back. But what’s the point in hav-
ing a Ferrari if you can’t open ’er

up? Driven by pastry chef/execu-

tive sous chef Brad Ray under the

supervision of chef-owner Chad

Colby, the Carpigiani is allowed to

show what it can do on the dining

autobahn — not just sit in traffic

on the 405. Is a machine that re-

tails for tens of thousands of dol-

lars worth the price? I defy you to

try the honeycomb ice cream,

perfectly finished with a little sea

salt and Sicilian extra virgin olive

oil, and tell me it’s not.

Antico is Colby’s first big solo

project since he left meaty Chi

Spacca in 2015. I don’t love slap-

ping labels onto places but if I

had to, the one I’d affix here would

say “pastoral Italian.” Technically

in Larchmont, the restaurant is

in a little bit of a no-man’s land

between K-town and Hancock

Park, around the corner from the

giant KFC on Western Avenue,

in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it strip

mall between a Korean beef soup

place and the 1929 Dover Apart-

ments. With it, Colby is opening

the restaurant he’s always wanted

— Italian-inspired, with more

pastas and a focus on seasonal

produce.

Colby’s education in Italian

food began in earnest at Nancy

Silverton and Mark Peel’s Cam-

panile in the early aughts, where

he cooked in a back of house that

resembled the ’97 Chicago Bulls:

Brooks Headley (Superiority

Burger), Matt Molina (Hippo),

Bryant Ng (Cassia) and others.

Colby eventually went to Mozza,

then Chi Spacca, then had a false

start, almost opening a restaurant

with Curtis Stone, before Antico

came to be.

He remembers vividly one

particularly sagacious bit of advice

he got from Silverton: Never open

a restaurant that’s worse than the

one you’re already at.

That trap has been successfully

avoided, although the restaurants

are quite different. While I love the

clubby feel of Chi Spacca (it was

never supposed to actually be a

restaurant, rather a wine store), I

don’t need a 42-ounce dry-aged

steak on the regular. Antico has

less going on in the ambience

department but makes up for it

with a more well-rounded menu of

Italian fare that is often creative

and occasionally inspires.

Particularly the pastas. A

pasta-obsessed Colby wasn’t

allowed to serve it at Chi Spacca,

lest it undercut Mozza next door.

Now he can let his carb freak flag

fly. The spaghettoni al limoneis

especially strong, a twist on the

Southern Italian dish with a redo-

lent fruitiness that seems to infuse

every pasta strand. The addition

of some very good anchovies rock-

ets this dish to a higher gear, add-

ing a belt of umami that acts like

good fish sauce in a bowl of Viet-

namese bun thit nuong.

When I was a kid, I’d frequently

boil whatever pasta was in the

cupboard after school, melt a few

pats of butter into it, drown it in

Kraft Parmesan cheese, and then

go watch a “Perfect Strangers”

marathon or something. The

maccheroniwith butter and Vac-

che Rosse Parmesan at Antico

takes me back to that time as well

as any dish I’ve had: a rich, com-

forting, creamy mess of sense

memory.

A ziti with tripe ragu doesn’t

turn the Roman dish on its head

but pairs air-dried Gragnano

pasta with perfectly textured

strips of chewy tripe and slightly

more of Colby’s bright, balanced

tomato sauce than you need (but

not more than you want). Use the

excellent, airy focaccia — essen-

tially an olive oil funnel cake — to

scarpettato your heart’s desire.

The first thing you’ll notice

upon entering Antico’s dining

room is the large open kitchen on

the far wall, with a welcoming

almond wood-fired hearth. It’s the

centerpiece of the restaurant and

touches nearly everything that

comes over the pass, particularly

the proteins. A couple of big, com-

munal tables anchor the floor, and

strings of chiles and garlic hang

from the ceiling.

A piece of outside skirt steak,

cut appealingly on a strong bias, is

nicely kissed by wood smoke and

cooked as well as you would expect

from someone with a Ph.D. in

meat like Colby. Unimpeachable

lamb chops, Frenched and with

the rib meat stuffed into an accom-

panying small coil of lightly gar-

licky sausage, sit in a pool of good

olive oil, which seems to be Colby’s

go-to condiment.

Are there a few things here and

there I might change? Sure, but

they’re picky. Taut-skinned

roasted chicken is served with a

big piece of focaccia in the center

of the plate to soak up jus like a

super crouton — great in theory,

but it leaves the rest of the chicken

fairly sauceless. A green salad with

a few Sungold tomatoes and pick-

led onions doesn’t seem to fully

take advantage of the bounty that

our farmers markets have to offer.

Kitchen notwithstanding, the

buildout looks done with an eye

toward haste (despite the fact

that the restaurant’s opening

was significantly delayed). The

dining room could use some

soundproofing — it’s loud in

there.

Service is careful and atten-

tive, if not entirely in line with the

idea of a casual, communal

restaurant. I never particularly

care about fine-dining touches

like having my silverware and

plates cleared after every course,

but they seem slightly more out

of place here.

But most of that is moot once

that dessert arrives, enjoyed per-

haps with a little glass of chinato

made with herbs from Colby’s own

garden. The eminently drinkable

digestif tastes pleasantly bitter,

verdant and like cloves and va-

nilla; it’s a bit of a fortified Coca-

Cola, and it’s wonderful. Nearly as

wonderful as the ice cream — and

that’s a pretty high bar.

Photographs by Myung J. ChunLos Angeles Times

ANTICO’Sziti with tripe ragu, above; salmon atop potato puree; Antico chef-owner Chad Colby in the restaurant’s kitchen; and spaghettini con limonewith anchovies.

RESTAURANT REVIEW

Meat master

nails pasta

and ice cream

LUCAS KWAN PETERSON
FOOD COLUMNIST

Antico

LOCATION

4653 Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles,

(323) 510-3093, antico-la.com

PRICES

Antipasti and smaller dishes

$9-$16, pastas $18-$24, entrees

$22-$48, desserts $9-$12.

DETAILS

Credit cards accepted. Wine and

beer. Valet parking. Wheelchair

accessible.

RECOMMENDED DISHES

Spaghettoni al limone, ziti with

tripe ragu, any grilled meat, all

the ice creams.

That’s Amaro

Makes 1 cocktail

2 oz Bonolo

Amarone grappa

½oz Amaro

Montenegro

½oz Amaro Nonino

3-4 dashes Jerry

Thomas bitters

1 orange peel, cut

with a vegetable

peeler

1 In a mixing glass,

add all the ingredi-

ents and stir.

2 Strain in a glass

over ice or up, as

pleases the person

drinking it.

3 Garnish with the

orange peel.

DRINK ME

The ‘old man’ and the Amaro