Taste

Image credit: ilovetaste.com

8454 Melrose Ave., (323) 852-6888, ilovetaste.com

Taste is definitely a Lesser Baldwin on the particular stretch of Melrose where it's situated, at least in terms of awareness. It's nestled among more famous spots like Lucques, Comme Ca, and Ago; it doesn't have a celebrity chef or owner; and its name is an easily pronounceable English word with nary a glyph or umlaut to be found. It's entirely possible that Alexis and I never would have tried it if we hadn't embarked upon this whole local-dining experiment in the first place.

No, I'm not gearing up to tell you that it's this incredible hidden gem, or that our lives would be hollow and meaningless if we hadn't discovered it. But that's okay. Not every restaurant has to be life-changing, even in a city where a lot of them are. Sometimes it's just nice to have a place you can go when you can't think of anything else, and Taste fills that role well. The food's good, the menu isn't huge but there's plenty of variety, they pour some interesting cocktails (I like the ginger-rita, which is pretty much what it sounds like), and if you flip to the back page there's a two- or three-course prix fixe for a great price if you like the options. The salads in particular are a standout, on par with the best in the area. You can waltz in at 9:00 on a Friday night and get seated right away without a reservation, but that doesn't mean the place is a ghost town -- far from it; it just doesn't attract quite the same numbers as its aforementioned neighbors.

If there's so much to like about it, why does it feel like I'm kind of damning it with faint praise? Perhaps it's because they over-salt the hell out of their mac & cheese? Well, there is that, but mostly it's because the service isn't great. We've been to Taste twice now and, while the second time was an improvement on the first, we still had a couple of minor but frustrating issues. It's nothing on the order of a place like Geisha House, where you feel privileged just to have your waitress cast a condescending eye in your direction; and certainly there are critically adored establishments that get away with much more egregious behavior; but nonetheless, it could be better. At least the guy filling the water glasses was always on top of things.

I'm glad we know about Taste. And given its proximity to our doorstep, I'm sure we'll be back there again on some Friday night when we're out of ideas.