Michael Lippman

Axe is a controversial place.  Some people love it, think it’s the best restaurant in Venice; others find it pretentious, uncomfortable, over-rated, loud, grating.  I fall definitively into the first camp.  I love it so much that I perversely love that others hate it; plus, I've found a way to rationalize its quirks into things I also love.  You sit on benches with no backs -- I say, it’s very Zen, it’s forcing me to hold my posture.  Occasionally, the service sucks, like the waiters and waitresses ignore you, or are rude, or are stupid, or the food takes forever.  I say -- it’s part of the Zen experience, you go with the flow, it’s teaching me patience, compassion, I am the student here, not the teacher.

I love the menu.  It’s almost impossible to say what kind of restaurant Axe is.  Which is, in itself, a breath of fresh air.  It's the product of a single individual's passion and vision, composed of what she wants to eat and to cook.  (I believe her name is Joanna and she's usually around, acting serious more than social -- the zen master, if you will)  On the brunch menu, 'soba noodles with shitake mushrooms' sits next to 'spaghetti aglio olio' (insanely good), sits next to a 'nine grain pancake' (psychotically awesome), a 'lentil sausage soup', a 'tofu bowl'.  On the dinner menu:  'soy braised beef short rib with chestnuts and daikon', 'Persian bean stew', 'porterhouse porkchop in an apple cider reduction', 'New York steak'.  I've lived in L.A. for 14 years and this menu resonates as a brief history of my own diverse passions, obsessions, diets, and curiosities.  A bizarre cross between Lucques, M Chaya, Shamshiri, Mishima... etc.

I sit at the bar, of course, and I get to see the kitchen in full operation.  It’s super casual.  At one point the staff meal is served and everyone gathers and ladles veggies, rice and beans into little cardboard to-go containers. 

The daily specials are market driven, inspired by fresh, organic produce.   There are always four or five vegetable specials, one of which can be ordered with an entree for no additional charge.  I ask the waitress what to eat.  She recommends the grouper, a special, which she tells me is served with Spring ramps, which are only available 2 weeks out of the year, so I’m lucky.   She recommends the pea tendrils as a side. She is so excited, so perky, so smiley, and for the life of me I can’t see beyond the façade to the darkness.  (This must be exactly the bit of Zen I need right now.)  I order what she suggests, then I see a gorgeous, vibrant salad being plated in the kitchen.  It’s the radicchio arugula salad.  I order it, too.

The salad is divine.  Not only is it alive with organic green-ness, it is so addicting it almost tastes like there’s bacon in it.  I inspect among the leaves and all I can find is very, very thinly shaved parmesan, which seems relevant, but not enough to account for the bacony vibe.  I ask the smiling waitress, and she answers that hidden in the salad are extremely thin slices of crispy grilled onions (not breaded or deep fried mind you).  According to her, the combination of those onions and "the way the parmesan is cut” imparts the wonderful earthy/salty/not-overly salty flavor.  This salad is absolutely top notch.

Next comes the grouper with the pea tendrils.  Fresh, fleshy, nice piece of fish, prepared in what seems like a simple lemon/butter/white wine sauce, with a great crispy skin on the bottom.  The grouper is served atop the greens, which are awesome, cooked in olive oil and garlic.  The combination of the butter with the fish and the olive oil with the greens makes for a yummy, if not perfectly harmonious, whole.  Remember, if I had ordered one of the three other veggie sides, it would have been a whole different thing.  So this is not a totally composed dish, but a couple of things served together.  Undeniably delicious, but one of the zen-like "flaws" in the Axe logic that one must simply accept.

For dessert, they’ve got my three favorite choices on earth – a brownie chocolate pie, a bread pudding, and a strawberry shortcake.  The waitress recommends the strawberry shortcake, as it’s seasonal.  It’s messy and great.  The shortcake is really shortcakey, which I love.  I order a fresh mint tea to go along with it, add some honey, and it’s perfect and subtle.

As I finally exit the restaurant, the manager urges me to come back soon.  I feel warm and cozy all over.  Wait.  Everyone was too nice tonight, the service was too smooth.  I don't get it.  I walk down Abbot Kinney, pondering the lesson in this.  

Axe   -- 1009 Abbot Kinney, Venice CA  90291