Mao Tse Tongue

The Red Pearl Kitchen’s take on dim sum tastes like capitalism at it’s best.
By Evan George

“Excuse me officer,” we said rolling down our window. “Do you know if there’s any street parking in this neighborhood at all?” we asked guiltily. He shook his head, so my dining companion pulled a U-ey into the smiling, long legged embrace of the valet girls who stood waiting in front of the Red Pearl kitchen.

From the outside, the new restaurant looks impersonal and cold, the windows letting almost no light through, like a Jetta with tinted glass. As we find out within seconds, it’s just fucking dark inside. The Red Pearl Kitchen is the third in an ultra trendy chain owned by restraunteurs Tim and Liza Goodell, who found success in Huntington Beach and San Diego. For their new Hollywood location, the couple went all out. (They do, after all, have demons to best: this Melrose address held the promising, critically acclaimed Citrine that went under just years earlier.)

We’re greeted by a hostess in a slinky kimono. A classy bar where snackers can sip on cocktails and order appetizers sits adjacent to an opium den-style lounge. Through a tall archway you can glimpse the main dining room, which is like stepping into the opening scene of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom— 1940s Hong Kong with a touch of Hollywood. Or dim sum on cocaine. The slightly domed roof and high ceiling reveals a truly magnificent dining room with a few long tables, a number of smaller ones and opulent, orange vinyl booths. Light from the red lanterns glints off of the red tables. At the end of the room, the glowing aura of an open kitchen is separated only by swinging doors and a wall of burning orange glass. Breathtaking. Even if I had a tommy gun like the tuxedo goons in Indiana Jones, I would never be able to shoot this place up.

Our patient waiter let us take in the place before asking us to peruse the impressive wine list. Some of the showier bottles seemed a waste, or even ill chosen, for dim sum, but we picked a sauvignon blanc that was crisp and reasonably priced while we scoured the menu.

The Red Pearl Kitchen thinks of itself as a family-style Southeast Asian dim sum fusion restaurant. There are problems with this, the least of which is the fact that to eat the way they expect you to (lots of dishes between lots of people) you barely get more than a taste of any one plate. The menu is organized into multiple sections like “Hot Pot,” “Skewers,” “Noodles” and so on. To cover every category, you are talking a decent amount of food for a party of six to eight at an astronomical price.

We pressed forward, ordering something form nearly every section and couldn’t resist poking some fun at the ubiquitous foie gras and kobe beef items (dim sum?) and chugging back beautiful bottles of sparkling water ($6).

The Tuna tartar tempura eggplant ($12) came first. Little curved beds of expertly fried eggplant held huge dollops of spicy tuna tartar with a light, white garlic sauce on top. Each bite slew us. The tempura was not only masterfully prepared, you could tell it came from crystal clean frying oil and brand new equipment. The cooks in us got nerdy.

Then the Thai chili-glazed calamari ($9) arrived piping hot. Picking out a delicately fried calamari bit (not a ring, thank god) I prepared for sub par bar food and was pleasantly surprised. Sitting atop the plump stack of calamari rested chili-glazed wontons that gave every bite a satisfying crunch. Again, the fried taste was clean, not heavy.

Then we dug into a tart tomato, coconut, mint salad ($8). After asking two clueless employees, we discovered that the toasted black kernels that really made the dish were in fact popped black rice. The braised tofu, bok choy, Shitake broth ($8) may have been the biggest disappointment of the night. The broth tasted salty and rich, but not much better than Trader Joe’s miso broth. The “braised” tofu seemed only to have been boiled in the soup pot.

Next were the ginger-scallion sea scallops ($19). We had high hopes. Five sexy scallops lay in wait aside steaming snap peas. A dusting of crushed wasabi peas decorated the dish. We gushed, our cheeks turning red, about how good they were. Each scallop was like another level of heaven: large and fluffy, expertly seared, golden and crispy without any aid from flour or breadcrumbs, while the inside melted, barely cooked. Our only complaint was that we could find not a hint of ginger, which would have made the whole thing that much better.

On a whim, we asked for the black pepper caramel shrimp ($16) and when it came I thought we’d be too stuffed to eat much. Nope. The shrimp were super sweet with a pungent kick of black pepper and burnt, sticky goo. My companion lustily sucked tails.

The one vegetable-only plate we ordered, Shao Hsing mushrooms ($7), was sadly lacking. It just shouldn’t have been an option when the other vegetables looked like stand-alone items. These “varietals,” as our waiter boasted, were just leftover shitakes.

At this point we were contentedly slurping a killer glass of Riesling and talking about using their huge, fancy men’s room when our waiter insisted we get a dessert. We tried admirably to finish off the amazing cardamom pot de crème with banana fritters ($8) and a decent Vietnamese coffee sundae ($8) to no avail. The fritters were flawless. We dipped our spoons in the crème and the cardamom syrup until we had to leave, or else end up using their men’s room as a vomitorium.

We swooned over The Red Pearl Kitchen the way you do over a one night stand. We can’t in good conscious recommend it as a place to go famished for a family-style dinner, unless you have $200 bucks to burn. But as a double date this place would be absolutely magical. Just watch out it doesn’t turn into an orgy right there at the table.

4 out of 5 sporks
Address: 6703 Melrose Ave., Hollywood.
Phone: (323) 525-1415.
Hours: Open daily at 5:30 p.m.
Price: $$$$
Recommended dishes: tart tomato, coconut, mint salad, tuna tartar tempura eggplant, ginger-scallion sea scallions.
Vibe: Dim sum on coke.