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- Pasjoli reopens tonight after a two-week closure meant to reset and rebrand the lauded Santa Monica restaurant.
- The process began with a search for a more casual version of itself. Every minor detail was studied, considered, debated.
- We embedded with chef Dave Beran and his team throughout the process. This is how they did it.
Prince changed his name to an unpronounceable symbol. Snoop Dogg went by Snoop Lion for a time, and briefly Snoopzilla.
Shifting your brand as an artist can be a welcome, and sometimes predictable, step in a career that spans a lifetime. But what happens when a well-established, award-winning restaurant decides to rebrand itself as a casual neighborhood bistro? And attempts to do it in just two weeks? It’s a challenge Dave Beran and his staff at Pasjoli restaurant just attempted — and completed — in time to reopen tonight.
Here’s a behind-the-scenes look at how they did it, step by step.
Pasjoli, one of L.A.’s most influential French restaurants, is temporarily closing for a refresh.
24 days before reopening
Dave Beran is balancing a baby in one arm and a laptop in the other. His toddler is asking for cereal.
The chef is on a Zoom call to discuss the future of Pasjoli, the Santa Monica French restaurant best known for Beran’s reimagined French classics, and most notably, his whole pressed duck. Ann Hsing, chief executive and chief operating officer of Beran’s restaurants, and investor Michael Simkin, a film and TV producer, are also on the call.
“I’m astonished that people set things on fire at our bar, but apparently they do,” says Beran.
The team is discussing menu placement on the table. Should they put a candle on the table to illuminate the menu? Maybe they can use a wire hanger to leave the menu hanging? Should servers bring over a small menu board?
The specifics of a menu presentation may seem like a trivial detail when considering the overall experience at a restaurant. But for Beran and his team, it’s a first impression, and the first step in recalibrating diners’ assumptions about what Pasjoli is, and what the new Pasjoli could be.
Beran, the former executive chef at Next in Chicago, established himself as a fine-dining chef in Los Angeles with the 2017 opening of Dialogue, a thrilling, 18-seat tasting menu restaurant. In 2019, he followed with Pasjoli, a destination-worthy French restaurant that offered a showstopping tableside pressed duck presentation, thon et tomate and a shower of truffles over foie de poulet à la Strasbourgeoise.
When he reviewed the restaurant in late 2019, critic Bill Addison called Pasjoli “a return to grand French dining in L.A.”
Then the pandemic happened, and the restaurant underwent a series of changes, shifting to takeout, then to in-person dining again. Dialogue closed. Pasjoli started offering more casual bistro fare and an expanded bar menu. Most recently there was a prix fixe menu.
But somehow, despite adjustments, the restaurant couldn’t quite shake its original “grand” identity.
“Dave is Dave,” says Hsing. “He comes from a very high-caliber restaurant resume. When we opened, to us, it was a version of casual. Meanwhile, the rest of L.A. was saying this is one of the fanciest restaurants in L.A.”
In December, Beran opened Seline, a $295 per person tasting menu restaurant down the street, further solidifying himself as a fine-dining chef. Though the restaurant recently introduced a limited eight-course, $165 tasting menu. And Beran is determined to bring an air of fun to Pasjoli.
“Start the night at the bar with a few people and just saber a bottle of Champagne,” he suggests as an opening image.
Yes, he’s talking about the celebratory practice of opening a bottle of Champagne by striking the seam of the bottle with a sword.
Or maybe batch cocktails? Frozen martinis? It would cut down on labor, the drinks will come out faster, allowing them to lower the cost of each drink by around $2 and provide a more consistent experience for guests.
“We had this idea, whether it’s tableside or at the bar, having some sort of punch-esque scenario, partially for cost but also, it’s aesthetically interesting,“ Beran says. “We’re looking into absinthe towers.”
19 days to reopening
Beran and chef Jack Joyce are in the kitchen at Pasjoli, inspecting a tomato salad.
“It looks too fancy,” Hsing declares.
“It’s literally chunks of tomato and arugula and radish,” Beran counters.
The bowl in question is a bowl of frill lettuce, a cross between iceberg lettuce and curly endive that lives up to its name. Over the top are hunks of tomato covered in delicate shaved radish. The bowl has a scalloped edge with a rim of gold.
The staff are deep into the research and development phase of the menu, with Joyce and Beran preparing a handful of dishes for feedback from Hsing, general manager Hayley Sedlock and head of people (yes, that is her title) Keely Obbards.
Joyce emerges from the kitchen carrying a whole, fried maitake mushroom. “It’s a Bloomin’ maitake mushroom,” he says. “With ranch.”
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Next up is a caramelized leek tart over a smear of hollandaise sauce. The tart is painted in a white wine reduction and finished with a smattering of smoked trout roe.
“I want more leeks,” offers Hsing.
“Hollandaise makes me think of brunch,” says Obbards.
Joyce looks mildly miffed but determined, and heads back into the kitchen.
Hsing attempts to break down the pricing. While the check average at Pasjoli may not be as high as some of the other restaurants in town, there is a perception, however misguided, that French is synonymous with fancy. A few lower-priced items on the menu could go a long way in changing that perception.
“For me, there are two large buckets of cost to control, it’s food and labor,” she says. “Say you have this item like a tomato that is on the cheaper side, but it takes three different people over the course of a week to do something with it to produce the final product, then it’s a much more expensive item on the menu than the food cost is reflecting. Our stocks and sauces here take three to four days.”
There’s a range of prices Hsing is aiming to hit, with a group of courses in the $10 to $20 range, another in the $20 to $35 area and plates viewed as entrees in the $40 range. A few larger-format dishes or things designed to be shared by the entire table will be priced at $150 or higher. And the desserts, with the exception of the chocolate soufflé, will be under $20.
“I know people think we are really expensive. We want to make sure you feel like the amount of money you pay when you’re done feels like it was worth it, whether that be from a food side or service side or the overall experience,” Hsing says.
The dining room is starting to show signs of a facelift, with lush plants punctuating the room. The art on the walls is being reconsidered. The front will be repainted.
Beran returns from the kitchen with two small white porcelain bowls of soup, each with a cap of melted cheese. The French onion souplettes are miniature bowls of the classic soup, made with Provolone for a top layer that browns and bubbles, Gruyère for flavor and mozzarella for the cheese pull texture.
“It’s literally a French onion soup but super small,” he says. He digs a spoon into each soup. “Already it looks like the bread absorbed all the liquid. Should I put more fat? Butter cubes? Traditionally it’s veal stock. Do you care that they are vegetarian?”
“For L.A., it’s probably better that it’s vegetarian,” says Sedlock.
The bar program is another sticking point for Beran, who wants the bar area to become a place where people can casually stop in for a drink after work. He’s doing away with the restaurant’s opening rule of exclusively carrying French spirits. And he’s building a small bar top up against the front window of the restaurant, creating an area where people can sip a drink and people-watch on Main Street.
Bar manager Tom Sullivan brings a few cocktails over to the table of managers. One is a gin drink with a tiny, yellow ice cube in the shape of a ducky sitting in the glass. The other is what Beran likes to call a “fluffy” drink, made by swapping in meringue for simple syrup, creating a layer of fluff atop the cocktail.
14 days from reopening
We’re back to discussing the table menu. And the place setting. The team has decided to present guests with narrow menus that fit neatly into a square gold placeholder Beran previously used to serve chips at Dialogue. Tables will be pre-set, with a stack of plates and roll ups, the term for napkins rolled around a set of silverware. Approachable. Easy.
Hsing brings up a copy of the working menu to discuss with the team. Every detail, from the name of a dish to where it is listed to the description, is debated.
Do they want to rename the chicken liver? Call it a mousse so people don’t expect a plate of sautéed chicken livers?
What should the beef tartare come with? Chips are too much labor. Maybe a chunk of baguette. Do they need to explain the French onion souplette? Should the mussels come with fries or should people order the fries separately? Which one feels more approachable? More like an entree?
The pressed duck will return to its original tableside presentation. Most recently, it was relegated to one an evening, at a table in front of the kitchen. When the restaurant reopens, the duck will be available with updated accouterments in limited quantities, with a deposit required for the reservation.
Hsing grabs a stack of cards from the office printer and presents them to Beran and the other managers. The team is testing prototypes for a cocktail card that will allow guests to customize a cocktail.
“We know the food is awesome, but what can we do to make it fun and interactive?” she says. “This could totally bomb. We’ll find out.”
6 days from opening. First night of friends and family.
It’s three hours before the doors open for friends and family, the first night of practice service for the staff. The team has invited investors and other guests for a dress rehearsal of sorts, with the restaurant serving guests a free dinner while they work out any kinks in the dining room or kitchen.
Pasjoli already feels like a different space, with four new seats along the front window. Two additional seats were added to the main bar. The big table that sat at the front of the open kitchen is gone, leaving no barrier between diners and the chefs. The chandeliers are gone.
In the kitchen, Joyce and the team are stuffing half-chickens into bags to poach with pats of butter. Later, they will be seared and then roasted to order. Another chef is prepping Fresno chiles for a hot sauce. Tomatoes are being sliced. Shallots brunoised.
In total, the kitchen will prepare 28 orders of roast chicken, 40 French onion souplettes, 30 orders of Cordon bleu chicken wings, 20 cheeseburgers, 30 plates of halibut crudo (made by breaking down a 10-pound fish) and two rock fish for the evening.
Beran has decided to promote Joyce to chef de cuisine. “Jack really stepped up and the goal is for me to play editor,” he says.
At 3:30 p.m. sharp, the staff sit down for family meal. Big bags of hot chicken from Main Chick are emptied and transformed into a buffet table for the staff.
At 4:15 p.m. Sedlock gathers the servers for a pre-shift meeting. “How are we feeling?”
She’s met with an enthusiastic “Wooooo.”
Sedlock instructs the servers to let people order, then make suggestions based on the amount of food. The goal is to see how people naturally respond to the menu, and to pick up on any patterns or feedback.
Wine will be poured at the table. To practice pouring five-ounce glasses, servers will weigh the bottle at a station, pour the glass, then re-weigh the bottle to see how they did. By the end of the evening, the five ounce pour should be a matter of muscle memory.
“Really utilize the information you get tonight. Pay attention to how people order,” Sedlock says.
The clean plates, or remnants left of a dish, will be a clue to the kitchen for what dishes worked, and which might need tweaking. It can also offer insight into portion size and how much people should order.
Then Sedlock turns to Beran and asks if he has anything final to add.
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“We are rebuilding our identity, and the only way to do that is start at zero and go,” he says. “You make a mistake, start over. Let’s just do it. We’ll do it right.”
A few moments later, a host moves to unlock the door.
The crop of servers watching her yell together — “Doors!” — and with that, the first customers shuffle in.
4 days from reopening. Last time to practice.
The facade of Pasjoli looks bright in the late afternoon sun, the moody dark blue now replaced by a cheery turquoise called Deep Lagoon.
The dining room is full at 5:45 p.m., with patrons elbow to elbow at the bar. The word bustling comes to mind, a feeling not easily achieved with the constraints of the restaurant’s former layout. Now, every corner of the room feels alive, brimming people chatting and sipping cocktails.
The menu is shorter, and yes, more approachable than the original, with deviled eggs ($12), the French onion souplette ($14), and the Paris Baguette ($19), described simply as a ham and cheese sandwich. For the final version of the maitake mushroom ($19), Joyce ditched the ranch idea and decided on an allium aioli and a potion bottle of malt vinegar on the side.
There’s an option to use a cocktail card to choose your own libation adventure ($24). Miniature martinis the restaurant calls “mar-tinys” and “snack-quiris” are listed for $14.
The French souplettes are a joy to eat, with croutons you dunk into a soup crowded with melted cheese and sweet onions. The chicken liver mousse comes in a petite glass ramekin with a tart cherry aspic lining the top. The burger is an upgraded version of the one Beran served at the bar, with black pepper-crusted grilled onions and a bone marrow aioli. The bun is now made at the restaurant, a cross between a brioche and a potato roll.
At 2 a.m. the previous morning, Hsing rebuilt the website and added the words “French is fun” to the homepage. The mantra also shows up on the new receipts.
By the time the evening ends, Beran and Joyce have changed the construction of the souplette, filling them to order. The maitake mushroom is no longer dredged in flour. Instead, it’s battered like tempura and cut into two pieces. More surface area of crunch. More to dip.
The tweaks, shifts and slight alternations will continue through Thursday, tonight, when the restaurant officially reopens to the public.
Until the moment the staff yells “Doors” in unison and welcomes the first customers to the new, casual Pasjoli. With a new facade, new art on the walls and an entirely new menu, it’s the Pasjoli you remember, with a little less fuss, and if Beran is successful, a lot more fun.
Where to find the new Pasjoli
Pasjoli, 2732 Main St. Santa Monica, (424) 330-0020, www.pasjoli.com
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