by Richard Foss
Naming a restaurant to evoke a famously cultured place or upscale resort is a time-honored tradition, a shorthand reference to a style of food and service. When you see a sign for Bangkok Palace, Café de Paris, or La Paz restaurant, you have an immediate sense of what they will serve, and in what atmosphere.
That strategy depends on the person reading that sign being familiar with the place being referenced, which makes the new restaurant, Montauk, in Redondo a puzzle for many locals. I had to look up that New York village to find out where it is and what it’s famous for. (If you’re curious, it’s the easternmost point of Long Island, noted for a dramatic rocky promontory topped by a lighthouse that was authorized by President George Washington. It is most noted for genteel old hotels and sportfishing, but not for particularly innovative dining from the ocean’s bounty.)
Why, then, would a Redondo restaurant adopt the name Montauk, which is not particularly notable as a culinary destination? For New Yorkers the name conjures up visions of rustic elegance – the California equivalent of Monterey or Santa Barbara, not as they are now but as they were in past eras. Sure enough, the Redondo restaurant’s decor and design evokes early 20th century hunting and fishing lodges patronized by the elites, with brass sculptures of ducks in flight and paintings of fishing boats and seascapes. You’re reminded of the elite aspect by the white tablecloths, brass-toned chargers on the tables, and the dress code prominently posted at the front door. The rules aren’t that strict, but the fact that they’re posted at all is only one of the things that set this place apart from the rest of the neighborhood.
I’ve dined at Montauk twice since they opened a month ago, and while they are still a work in progress, the outline and trajectory are clear. There is one notable anomaly, which is that the food here is nothing like anything you can get in the town they’re named for. The restaurants in that village of just over 4,000 people mostly serve straightforward East Coast seafood simply prepared – think fried fish, lobster rolls, chowder, and the like. This Montauk serves seafood in globalized preparations – flounder served en papillote with Cajun compound butter, scallops with chorizo and corn veloute. Chef Eric Travis, who previously led culinary teams at The Farm of Beverly Hills, Miyagi’s, and other Los Angeles restaurants, has a penchant for unexpected combinations, and his menu makes for fascinating reading and difficult choices.
We tried three starters: a vegetable tart in an herbed biscuit crust, seafood hummus accented with vadouvan, and a Waldorf salad using the original recipe from 1896. I rarely order Waldorfs because they often have a candy-sweet dressing, and only tried it because it was representative of New York at about the time that the Long Island resorts opened. It’s based on romaine lettuce with celery, apple, candied walnuts, and grapes, and for once the balance of sweetness and acidity in the dressing was right. It’s a fine set of fall flavors, and a particularly good start if you’re following it with something meaty.
The hummus seasoned with vadouvan and topped with shrimp, lobster, crab, octopus, and shellfish was a fine idea that needs work in its execution. The flavor of vadouvan, a French variant on curry, was a little strong – I liked it, but my wife thought that it cumulatively overwhelmed the seafood. This item was also served in a very pretty but steep-walled pot that made it difficult to get at the hummus, and the fact that it was served with crisp crackers rather than bread did not help matters. The crispbreads and metal pot were visually interesting, but impractical.
The vegetable tart was the most surprising and successful of the three starters. The chef had sliced beets very thin and rolled them with other vegetables, steamed them to tenderness, and put them in two crisp, fragrantly herbal tart shells atop a saffron-ginger sauce. It was another item that was a bit impractical to eat, because the rolls of vegetable needed to be removed and cut, then replaced in the tart shells to enjoy the flavors together, but what flavors they were. If this is on the menu when you’re there, order it, because it was a highlight of our meals.
Montauk has a full bar and an expansive list of wines by the glass and bottle, which shows owner Lavae McClinnahan’s enthusiasm for classic French wines. The sommelier suggested a 2022 Gadais Muscadet and a ’23 Drouhin Chablis with the Waldorf and hummus, both difficult to pair because of the sweet-tart of one and seafood and heat in the other, and they were worthy choices.
Among the mains, we tried octopus risotto, duck breast with duck fat potatoes, citrus-spiced shrimp with Israeli couscous, and a New York steak. The risotto itself was rich and creamy, the octopus a smoky accent to it, but what really elevated it were the roasted baby bell peppers stuffed with seafood. An arugula and pickled onion salad on the side added a fourth flavor and texture to the dish, and it was a delight from start to finish. The large grilled shrimp over couscous mixed with salad was a simpler flavor combination but also successful, but I wish the citrus barbecue sauce had been served on the side rather than the shrimp being dipped into it before being put atop the couscous. The portions on both were sufficient but not excessive.
The four meat entrees at Montauk were all in more straightforward and less globalized preparations, which suited the steak very well. A good dry-aged steak well prepared needs little embellishment, and the lightly charred broccolini and crisped scalloped potato suited it well. I should mention that their idea of a scalloped potato is not the creamy standard item, but a thoroughly crisp version that somehow expressed the flavor. I don’t know how you do that, but it’s a keen idea. The duck breast had been well trimmed and simply seared so that what fat was there accented the flavor, and it was served with fresh figs (and where do you even find good figs at the end of October?). The only thing on this plate that didn’t work was the side starch, which were whole small white potatoes. The advantage to frying in duck fat is that the very hot fat can make them very light and crisp, but these were more ordinary – I would have thought them roasted rather than duck fat fried had the menu not said otherwise. They weren’t bad, but weren’t special.
Owner McClinnahan is omnipresent in the restaurant, and he and the sommelier offered wine recommendations that included a wonderful Comtes Lafon Meursault with the shrimp. We also tried a Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf-du-pape and a surprising Tornatore Etna Rosso with the steak.
At the time we were there the restaurant wasn’t serving dessert yet, so we sat with the last of our wine and enjoyed people watching our fellow diners, most of whom had dressed up for the occasion. Cheesecake and other items have been added too recently for me to review them in this piece, so I’ll be able to enjoy those on subsequent visits. The jazz club in the rear of the restaurant also has not opened, yet, but is expected to be an attraction when it does. This will be the first jazz lounge in Redondo since Papa Garo’s closed in the 1980s, and a worthy addition to the neighborhood.
Montauk is ambitious in several ways, and has an elevated style in an intimate space that is unlike anything else in the area. They are very good now, and show signs that even greater things are to come.
Montauk is at 1611 S. Catalina Avenue in Redondo Beach. Open 5-10 p.m. daily except Sunday. Underground parking or street parking. Wheelchair access good, patio dining. Full bar, some vegetarian items, sound level moderate. (213) 596-2699. Montaukinredondo.com. Pen
Best of luck, Lavae!