Saturday night We got in a cab and headed west to Test Kitchen, a new concept restaurant which showcases a rotating roster of chefs and bartenders (which they refer to as “mixologoists,” but that is just silly) who are experimenting with dishes and drinks. Our double dating partners D & M scored a reservation for Jordan Kahn’s stint as he previewed items from the soon to be open Red Medicine. Behind the bar was Joel Black and Julian Cox.

We arrived  5 minutes late for the 9p reservation, but it was no problem: the place was packed and our table wasn’t ready anyway. Cocktail time. The list and chalkboard specials were incredibly intriguing. Condensed Milk Foam? Cherry Heering and Kombucha in the same drink? “Paper Planes:” was that an MIA reference?

We each ordered a different cocktail, determined to have sips of them all. Love MIA and love Aperol, so I got the Paper Planes. Delicious. D’s frothy strawberry number came with a single ice cube the size of a Rubik’s Cube. Delicious. His had purple basil leaves floating around in it. Delicious. I don’t remember the particulars of M’s, but it too was delicious.

From our stools we watched the kitchen and rather harried waiters and managers running food, looking at tickets, conferring. They were obviously in the weeds. Not only was it a test for the kitchen, but the front of the house as well. And they appeared to be scrambling. The chef’s body language on the other hand appeared calm and determined, as he plated the dishes, hiding behind his very long asymmetrical bangs.

We were finally seated (your table is ready, we get up and leave our bar stools, oh wait, your table isn’t ready, we stand for 10 minutes with our dripping drinks, oh your table is ready) at a large round that previously sat 6 (whom we suspected were blogger papparazi with their constant iPhone updates and picture taking–it made me second guess my own plan to take shots). Instead of spreading out, we scooted close to each other around half of the table. The basement location of the restaurant with it’s low ceiling makes for a loud dinning room, so this helped in being able to hear each other.

Another round of cocktails for M and Him, initially a glass of Gruner (corked) and then Zind-Humbrecht Gewurztraminer “Wintzenheim” for me, and a glass of LIOCO Pinot for D. Later we split a bottle of Demessey Chambolle-Musigny–allowing ourselves to indulge and take advantage of cabbing it.

The food began to arrive. The standout of the twelve different dishes (which the menu declares “In no particular order”) was the next to the last one, a dessert parfait with: Coconut bavarois, coffee, thai basil, peanut croquant, chicory. The best dessert I have ever had. Ever.

As for everything else? I thought it ranged from strange (mushy carrots and coconut) to mediocre (saigon tartine) to good (cured amberjack). Nothing wowed me. And this is okay, I thought, because it speaks to the concept of the restaurant: testing the kitchen. Jordan Kahn and crew were experimenting, developing, tweaking.

But if the kitchen was testing, don’t they want to know the score? Throughout the meal the service was spotty (forgotten drink orders, slow in between courses and then two at once, runners who dropped off food without describing it), so I’m not surprised we were not asked how we enjoyed the dishes as they came and went.

The boys bought dinner,  and as we were heading up the stairs I said, “You guys saw they add gratuity, right?” I was the only one who had noticed the “18% service charge will be added to all checks” declaration at the bottom of the menu. They caught the manager just as he had closed out the checks. Waiting to hail a cab out front, we all agreed the server should have said something, as should the manager who would have noticed the extraordinarily large tips.

We hopped in the cab, headed back east, and rhapsodized over …the cocktails. Which we had a lot of time to do: the cab driver unwittingly took Franklin through Hollywood. On a Saturday night? Are you kidding me? He really should have asked us our feedback on the route.

My tweet the next day sums up my take on the food (and cab ride).

(An occasional series featuring favorite wine and booze Facebook wall posts. This one from a dear and witty friend who is a buyer at a standout East Coast wine and liquor store.)

New Favorite @ the store: Willie Nelson’s 86 Proof Old Whiskey RiverStraight Bourbon Whiskey, from Nelson County, Kentucky, comes hot, new and cheap with a guitar pick. Next week, oooh I can’t wait, I can’t stand it…Whipped Cream Flavored (French) Vodka!!! Follies Bergeres meets [store outpost]. The Roller Derby chicks are washing their petticoats in it before they imbibe the nectar. Nymphs.

Sadly the kiddie pool We so enjoyed during the last LA heatwave has succumbed to the raucous ways of the critters of the Hollywood Hills. Let’s hope they enjoyed it as much as We did. Before my backyard was flooded with a gazillion gallons of water (upside: I didn’t have to water for a couple of days), We did enjoy another couple of bottles of Albariño while floating around in it. (We had so much fun with the Paco in the Pool post, We thought it worthy of a repeat.)

We donned our swimming costumes, popped open two different bottles from Rias Baixas that We had received as samples, and gave them a taste test while floating around in the somewhat ridiculous, but highly satisfying kiddie pool. Both wines were divine.

I’ve had several vintages of Martin Códax Burgáns Albariño over the years and have found it consistently delicious and well priced at around $ 15. The 2009 was bright and clear with a golden hue. It was very fruity in the nose and I sensed Granny Smith apple and almonds. The wine has high acid, but is round in structure. Lots of minerals, very crisp and refreshing on the palate. A long, lingering finish. I enjoy it when a wine, like this one, is lush and round, but also tangy and acidic. I’ve noticed Albariños are becoming increasingly popular (especially in these summer months) on wine shop shelves. This one is easy to find, the right price, and lovely, year after year.

Although I am familiar with several of the wines in Eric Solomon’s book, I had never tried the Pazo de Senorans Albariño. In general I think of Albariños as being an excellent bargain, but this wine is priced at $25 a bottle. What distinguishes it from others? In color the wine is similar to the Burgáns: bright and golden in hue. The nose is more floral and tropical. I sensed lemon curd, almonds, and honeysuckle. Lots of minerals again and a soft, round structure with the tang of acid. The Pazo de Senorans offers a greater concentration and almost syrupy quality with a long lingering finish that I loved. Truly wonderful. I would pay $25…and hope to very soon. Researching where to buy this wine in L.A. now.

With the pool now in the recycling bin, We will be enjoying crisp wines on hot days while sitting in loungers under an umbrella, rather than while floating in the water. Oh well. There’s always the spray of the hose for a quick cool down.

• WordPress hacker Johnny A infiltrated all of our sites
• Google put Swirl on a list of sites that will kill your computer
• We hate Johnny A and hope his fingers catch on fire every time he touches his keyboard
• We are overwhelmed by the empties which are rapidly piling up
• sometimes drinking wine is easier than writing about it
• He has just started a fancy new job at a university that requires him to be (mostly) hangover-free
• some weeks are more vodka-y and bourbon-y than wine-y

For the past several weeks I have read The New York Times columnist Eric Asimov’s musings on libations, grabbed my Sharpie, and after much concentration (and consternation) blacked out most words, distilling the piece down to my interpretation of its essentials. On rosé: “I seriously heart good rosés.” On Savennières: “I find virtues in wines rejected by others.” On natural wine: “Indeed, swirl is a fan.” On beer: “I can consume multiple pints.” Et cetera. The column becomes my muse as I both reinterpret and redesign Mr. Asimov’s assertions.

Rewriting this week’s column proved a greater struggle. I read and reread, Sharpie in hand, unable to find the words to keep. Partially this was because I am both unversed in and uninspired by its subject: sake.

Was I not trying hard enough to appreciate this ancient, revered beverage? He thinks so: “It would be so easy to say,’Why bother?’ But push past that moment of resistance, and the rewards in sake can go well beyond what’s in the glass.”

But even after several reads I wasn’t feeling it. In fact I began to see Asimov as a sake apologist (and a certain New York sake store’s marketing director) rather than an enthusiast. In the column he offers two reviews, describing the second, less expensive sake as “a bit smoother, a bit more dry, with a lighter, more delicate texture…” I realized that Asimov’s obvious struggle with describing the sake was in turn why I was struggling distilling his language. And his struggle was one which I also have…when I describe wine.

Although Asimov suggests otherwise, searching for nuances “beyond what’s in the glass” in sake is exactly what I do when swirling, smelling, and slurping wine. The descriptors may be different, but wine lovers like myself are also looking for “texture, elegance and purity,” and at times struggle putting words to a tasting experience which is completely subjective. Asimov is right about the “disquieting” and “alien world” sake may present to the uninitiated;  I certainly have an easier time describing sensations reminiscent of the fuzzy skin and ripe, dripping fruit of a peach when tasting a lush Viognier than the that of “waterfalls and cool mountain streams” he experienced when tasting a Amanoto Tokubetsu Junmai.

Of course we all describe our experiences (of what is both in and outside the glass) differently. Even when the descriptors are the same, they are just that: a description, not the actual experience. Whether one is describing sake or wine, it is language itself that is both the challenge and the truth maker. Knowledge comes is in the speaking (or writing) of the subject. And, as Foucault says, “The task of commentary can never, by definition, be completed.”

Next week I’ll free my mind of fickle Foucault and give “rewriting the review” another go, hopefully ending up with a throughly (and thoughtfully) marked-up column. (And I’ll be wielding my brand new Stainless Steel Sharpie. How cool is this pen.)

We are in Palm Springs. Its roughly 150º. The pool at The Ace feels like a large bathtub. I love this place.

After soaking in the pool and baking in the sun all day, we decided to head to The Amigo Room for “Sissy Bingo” hosted by the wonderful Linda Gerard. Between games, Linda recounts her time on Broadway and, umm, Deal or No Deal and sings show tunes. She looks and acts exactly as you would expect a lounge hostess in Palm Springs to look and act; extremely large sunglasses, floral shirt under a floral jacket topped off by a floral scarf. She is as delightfully kitschy as the town she lives in.

So, Bingo. I haven’t played Bingo since I was in grade school. It sounded like a fun way to pass the time and escape the heat, but I didn’t think I would actually like playing Bingo. Somehow, I loved it. It was one of those moments that assured me that I am getting less cynical with age, and I’m able to enjoy silly little things that I would not assume I would enjoy. Like the time that I almost enjoyed Disneyland in 2003.

Oh yeah, and I even won a round! My prize was a Rice Krispies™ cookie and a box of wine.

Bingo!

We had a little (umm, big) heatwave here in Hollywood over the past few days. On Thursday We decided to get a pool for Her backyard. It’s part of the California Dream right? Movie stars and a pool in every backyard. This pool is decidedly less glamorous than the imaginary Hollywood idea, but it has done the trick. When We got back from the inflatable-above-ground-36-inches-deep pool store, there was a package waiting for Us on Her porch.

We knew it was wine, and We were really hoping for a nice refreshing white. Thankfully it was and We were anxious to get water in the pool and wine in Our mouths; counting on the wine being chilled by the time we got 1018 gallons of water in the pool.

The bottle was aesthetically pleasing; a nice, fun design. We also appreciated the detail of the cork being screened to match the perforated appearance of the bottle. Now it’s time to float around in our silly inter-tubes (with cup holders, of course) in our silly pool and drink some wine. Finally some relief.

Albarino, Rias Baixas, Paco & Lola 2009 (sample, retails for around $18)

She said: A delightful, refreshing hot-day-floating-in-the-kiddie-pool wine. The initial mineral-infused sips lead to rich peach blossom, honeydew melon, and citrus notes. There is an ever present acidity throughout, without which I think the wine would fall apart, but its presence holds everything together and kept me sipping. If P&L retailed for five or six bucks cheaper I’d buy it by the case for the kiddie-pool days (aka: everyday since I bought it). 

He said: A pretty intense nose from which I would have a difficult time pinning down the varietal. Definitely citrus, some floral notes and some green apple. A nice minerality and then peaches in the mouth. Very nice, crisp acidity. Nothing spectacular, but a very refreshing drinkable wine that We finished in less than 45 minutes, whilst floating around the pool. We were thirsty.

Our favorite Facebook wine review this week:

Champagne Drappier…Totally retro Blanc de Blanc get it’s yeasty on, Signature NV Brut’s sultry star anise takes the stage, begs for food, then gets all serious on you once you take it in, and a Rose of all Pinots, vermeil lights and copper scents, fraise de bois and black currant passage, immediately gratifies.