The chef’s whim, please

There aren’t many experiences in life that give me a greater sense of anticipation than reading a new menu in a good restaurant. Nevertheless, most of the best meals of my life have come when I never looked at the menu -- when I just told our waiter, “We’ll have whatever the chef feels like cooking tonight.”

That may sound presumptuous and cavalier, and I wouldn’t recommend you try it at your local Sizzler. But at a fine restaurant, that suggestion can serve as a passport to bliss.

“I love to cook that way,” says Jean-Pierre Bosc, the chef at Mimosa bistro in West Hollywood. “It’s a way to do things I don’t usually do here. People who want me to do that really appreciate food, and I want to satisfy them.”

Like most of us -- maybe more than most of us -- chefs grow weary of routine. They’re eager to escape the tyranny of the menu. Ask any serious chef to describe his ideal restaurant, and chances are the first two things you’ll hear will be (1) “I’d like a small place, just six or eight tables,” and (2) “I’d like to be able to cook whatever I want, based on what’s in season and what looks good at the market that day and whatever inspiration I have.”

So why not give the chef a chance to live the dream, however briefly -- for your benefit. Almost invariably, the surprise -- not knowing what’s coming next, eating something new -- makes for a true dining adventure.

I’ve done this over the years at more restaurants than I could shake a fork at -- among them, Valentino, Spago Beverly Hills, Vincenti, Melisse and Yujean Kang locally and similar restaurants elsewhere, here and abroad.

Some chefs at casual restaurants also enjoy the spontaneity of cooking off the menu, but a high-end restaurant -- with a larger kitchen staff and, usually, a more talented chef -- is a more likely choice for this kind of special dinner.

I know what you’re thinking. “Sure, Shaw, that’s easy for you; you write about food and wine for the Los Angeles Times, so these chefs know you and want to make you happy.”

Yes, it helps if the chef knows you and your tastes, whether you’re a journalist or just a steady customer. But I’ve been putting myself in various chefs’ hands for almost 25 years, starting long before I’d written a word about food or wine anywhere. It was my enthusiasm for the dining experience -- and my eagerness to let chefs experiment on me -- that helped me to get to know several chefs and restaurateurs long before most of them had any idea what I do for a living.

I still recall the first time a chef in France asked to make a “special” dinner for my wife and me, simply because we -- two unknown, then-unsophisticated Americans -- had been so appreciative of his food the night before.

The chef? Marc Meneau, at L’Esperance in Burgundy. The dinner? Truffles and fresh foie gras on toast. Jellied consomme of lobster with caviar. A salad of spinach, mushrooms, onions and sweetbreads. St. Pierre fish cooked en papillote and served with a watercress sauce. Cold chicken stuffed with a mousse of its own liver and braised with Port. Assorted cheeses. An apple tart. A raspberry tart. Fresh fruit salad. Petits fours.

Magnifique.

Memorable meals

As that meal makes clear, if you let a chef make all the decisions, he may try to dazzle you with expensive ingredients. I’ve been startled by a few bills that were much higher than I was accustomed to in those particular restaurants. But chefs don’t have to use products with Tiffany price tags to please you -- or themselves. Nor do you have to eat a six- or eight-course feast to have the full experience.

I had lunch a couple of weeks ago at the Water Grill in downtown Los Angeles with a friend who had to make an early-afternoon meeting. We told our waiter, “We’ll take anything the kitchen wants to send out -- but just three courses, including dessert.”

Chef Michael Cimarusti cheated a little by starting us (quickly) with a tiny amuse-bouche of Olympia and Belon oysters in a broth of chopped heirloom tomatoes, soy sauce and virgin olive oil. But then we had just one appetizer (California spiny lobster on a large porcini mushroom cap); a main course (rougets with fall vegetables roasted in duck fat confit); and, from pastry chef Won Yee Tom, one dessert (apple beignets with pecan ice cream).

It was all so good that my friend was tempted to cancel his meeting and ask for an encore.

Remember: Everyone who performs likes an appreciative audience, and good chefs do perform, whether they’re making three courses or eight, using caviar or cauliflower. So they welcome an opportunity to strut their stuff -- especially in diet-conscious Los Angeles, where so many customers seem to have the same discouraging mantra: “Green salad, no dressing, broiled fish, no sauce, no dessert, herbal iced tea.”

Gino Angelini at Osteria Angelini enjoys working with organ meats, but many Angelenos shudder at the mere prospect, and that disappoints him. So I don’t know who’s happier -- Angelini cooking or me eating -- when I put myself in his hands with only one request: “Innards -- kidneys, brains, tripe, whatever.”

I still have vivid memories of -- I can still taste -- several other dishes I’ve had over the years only because I didn’t order from the menu. But leaving dinner to the chef is not about individual dishes; it’s about the orchestration of an entire meal so that the dishes build, one after the other, with variety and balance and harmony.

The best dining experience of my life came on my honeymoon, when we dined four consecutive days at Fredy Girardet in Crissier, Switzerland; before we even opened our menus the first night, Girardet suggested that he orchestrate all four meals “so your dining experience here will be a single, harmonious unit.”

My wife and I had 34 courses over the next four days, and virtually every one was spectacular, from the first appetizer the first night (a compote of baby rabbit and baby vegetables en gelee) to the last dessert on the last day (an apple and chocolate croquette accompanied by a soup and souffle, both made with wild strawberries).

Several L.A. restaurants now follow the French tradition of offering a tasting menu -- several smaller courses, chosen and orchestrated by the chef -- a formalized version of my “Leave it to the chef” suggestion. But even chefs without a tasting menu may welcome the chance to be creative, and those with a tasting menu may be happy to depart from it if they sense your spirit of adventure.

Chef’s night off?

Not every good chef advises such adventure.

“Sure, it’d a great challenge for the chef and it’s stimulating,” says Joachim Splichal, the chef behind Patina and the Pinot Bistros. “But in my opinion, it’s better to stick to the menu. If you leave it up to the kitchen, and the chef himself is not there that night, you might not get the same brilliance from a creative standpoint, and then the customer is disappointed.”

When I recommend leaving dinner choices up to the chef, I worry more, though, about the picky eater than I do about the absentee chef.

You can’t say, “I’ll have whatever the chef feels like cooking, but I’m allergic to shellfish and I don’t like nuts and I don’t want anything with butter or cream and I don’t eat veal because I feel sorry for those poor calves and I like everything well-done.”

This doesn’t mean you have to like everything. I don’t like coconut or okra. If you have gastronomic, aesthetic, medical or political objections to a particular foodstuff -- or if you’re allergic to something -- you should say so. I once took a vegetarian friend to a restaurant with a great French chef, and he happily made her a multi-course extravaganza composed entirely of vegetables and grains.

What matters is not so much what you eat -- or don’t eat -- but that you approach the experience with an open mind, a sense of adventure and anticipation and a genuine eagerness to try something new.

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David Shaw can be reached at david.shaw@latimes.com.

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Forgoing the menu?

Pick the right restaurant. The chef at a good bistro or trattoria may be happy to be spontaneous, but a high-end restaurant is a more likely to welcome the request.

Make sure the chef is there. In this era of superstar chefs with burgeoning restaurant empires, there’s a good possibility someone else is in the kitchen.

Expect to spend more time and money. But do tell your waiter if you have budgetary or time constraints.

Make your wishes clear. If you’re allergic to something or don’t like something -- or if you’d like your dinner to include a certain item or dish -- say so.

Don’t be picky. No long lists of do’s and don’ts.

Remember, the chef has a life too. Don’t expect anyone to prepare a special menu at 8:30 on a busy Saturday night, or at 10:30 any night.