Cut by Wolfgang Puck
American wagyu strip at Cut by Wolfgang Puck, on a quiet Sunday afternoon in Beverly Hills.
I have eaten in a lot of dining rooms that try this hard. Cut by Wolfgang Puck is one of the few that pulls it off without looking like it is trying.
The room is exactly what you want it to be: Richard Meier white walls and California lighting. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.
We started with bone marrow with a small salad of capers and parsley, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a glass of port to finish, and then another, and were glad of both.
Then the main event: american wagyu strip, the dish that puts Cut by Wolfgang Puck on every short list. Cut through it and you found that deep, beefy, almost iron-tasting interior that only comes from time and dry air. The signature touch — the bone marrow flan — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.
For sides we asked for skin-on fries, twice-fried and hash browns the size of a hubcap. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.
Dessert was a wedge of chocolate cake to share, fork divided, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.
I will be back. With company, next time, and a longer reservation.
Filed by Walter Halligan