Giorgio Baldi's

After a long hard day of sitting on a couch and watching a TV screen, there's nothing that hits the spot more than food. And not just any food will do. No my friends, I am very specific about my desires: I want delicious food. With this in mind, I set out for Giorgio Baldi's restaurant last night in an effort to satisfy my lust for delectable cuisine.

Now, after hearing great things about this establishment for months, I was a bit surprised to pull up and find it to be little more than a tiny cottage just off the PCH -- I expected a grand building perched on the edge of the water. However, given that I have both an X and a Y chromosome, I wasn't too concerned with the decor. However, even if I had been concerned, a man came and shooed me over to my table while saying things I couldn't understand. As a general rule, whenever I'm shooed by someone I can't understand, I assume it's a good sign, so it would've been okay.


For the meal, we had quite a lovely array of foods, and I'll break them down in a semi chronological order. We started with tuna tartar that was pretty good. I'm not going to say it was mind blowing, but it definitely set the proper tone for the rest of the meal. Light, delicious, and easy to share, much like the veal carpaccio we also sampled. Now, both dishes were delicious, but they confused me a little bit. Who ever had the idea to take nice big pieces of meat, slice them razor thin, and serve them as a little appetizer? It seems to me like some crazy rich person was trying to make sure their baby ate better than normal babies, so they prepared these dishes for their infant.


In between our thinly sliced dished, we had a sampling of various raviolis. If you're thinking some sort of derogatory thought about ravioli I need you to stop right now. The asparagus ravioli was fantastic, as was the lobster ravioli. Absolutely wonderful, like fresh morning dew on a puppy's nose. And those were crap compared to the the sweet corn ravioli. I almost passed out, that's how good the sweet corn ravioli was. It was the greatest thing I would ever taste, until I tried the pumpkin ravioli. If these raviolis were women, the asparagus would've been Marilyn Monroe, the lobster was Cleopatra, and the sweet corn was Helen of Troy. Who was the pumpkin? I have no clue. That level of perfection has yet to be attained. Maybe if Helen of Troy was a gourmet chef and she loved watching football, then she would be pumpkin ravioli.


For the main course, I had a Mediterranean sea bass that was absolutely delicious. I also had the joy of trying a dover sole and some lamb shank. After the tour de force that was the ravioli sampler, you would think I could no longer be impressed by anything the waiter brought out, but that simply was not so. Both fish dishes were cooked to perfection, and the lamb was unlike anything I've ever had. Some sort of mint garnish made it stand out, even amongst all the other goodness. Minty lamb shank? The shear fact that someone even thought of that impresses me. Move over Tyra Banks circa 30 pounds ago, I will now have inappropriate dreams about this meal from now on.


You shouldn't be surprised by now when I say the desserts were also fabulous. Everything we tried was good, but the tiramisu and the lemon sorbet stood out the most. It almost seems too good to be true, after the whole fabulous meal, to have just a perfectly sweet, light desert. To be honest, it reminded me of afternoon sex: unexpected, yet incredibly satisfying.

I know I've been prone to giving over the top reviews before, but ladies and gentlemen I kid you not: this was the best meal I've ever had in my life. Go there, now, and see for yourself. A perfect 10 out of 10 for Giorgio Baldi's.

Main on Main

It's generally accepted that if you review something you should have a broad knowledge of the genre it falls in. My qualifications as a food critic, for example, stem from the fact that I have eaten roughly three meals everyday for my entire life. Think about that. That pretty much makes me an expert on what tastes good and what doesn't. Now, while I may not have been visiting bars my whole life, I do feel like the frequency with which I have done so in the past few years qualifies me as an expert nonetheless. I visited another bar this past weekend, Main on Main, and I'm here to let you know what I thought.

Main on Main is, not surprisingly, located on Main Street in Santa Monica. The small, discreet entrance is tucked away next to O'Brien's and is usually hidden by the large crowd of smokers gathering outside that particular establishment, but if you follow the pounding dance music you should be able to find it. From what I can gather the line is never too long, but do consider that there is a cover on the weekends, $5 to $10 depending on when you get there.

The place is larger than it seems once you get inside. The act of having to wade through the dance floor right away to get to the bar or a table makes you feel like it's livelier and more crowded than it really is, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. The pounding music and clubbie lights add to this effect (yeah, I just made up the word "clubbie", what are you going to do about it?), but it doesn't feel claustrophobic. The place in general has a good energy to it, and that's reflected in both the atmosphere and the people.

Speaking of the people, the crowd is pretty eclectic. You have your standard Santa Monica folk, which consist of 20 something average joes out to drink the work week away and pretty girls in short dresses dancing together. Every now and then a group will stroll in that looks like they got lost on the way to Hollywood: lots of sparkles for the girls, lots of hair gel for the guys. However, as opposed to some of the other locations on Main, you are missing a staple of the Santa Monica / Venice
bar scene: bums and artsy people who look like bums. Neither bums nor artsy people seem to have the desire or the requisite energy to dance, the artsy people are too busy being moody and the bums are too busy being bums. The crowd, therefore, is mostly young, good looking, well dressed people looking to get drunk and dance. If you can't support that, then the terrorists have already won.

The bar in the back is crowded, but you can also flag down a waitress for a drink so it never takes too long. I'm told you can call ahead and get bottle service if you have a large party. They have a huge back room that can accomadate groups of 30, but I don't know if they do bottle service at the smaller tables. A handful of signature cocktails dot the menu, and prices are pretty standard for Main Street. While that does mean overpriced, at least the bartenders here overcompensate by pouring stiff drinks.

Last but not least, like all classy establishments, they have stripper poles. The dance floor is flanked by two platforms that surround floor to ceiling metal poles, and if the presence of random drunk girls who want to try their hand at stripping isn't enough, they even have a pro come out for fifteen minutes at a time and dance for the masses. On Friday she was wearing a leopard print bikini and very much looked like she could beat me up. Her presence is another of the bar's attempts to distance itself from Main Street and feel more like Hollywood or Vegas (or a strip bar), and while it was unnecessary it certainly wasn't unappreciated by the crowd.

Good looking people in a lively atmosphere with stiff drinks and stripper poles? Sounds like a good time to me. I give Main on Main a solid 8 out of 10.