| CHAMEAU
LA TIMES
– FOOD SECTIONS – NOVEMBER 10th,
2004
Chameau is a quirky, shoebox of a place on
Fairfax where a North African chef has a way
with bestial.
By S. Irene Virbila
Somehow I knew the minute I said the word “Moroccan,”
my faithful dining companion would try to squirrel
out of dinner at Chameau. This was the guy who
squirmed in embarrassment the time a blue-eyed
blond shook all her appurtenances in his face
at a long-forgotten restaurant, so I had to
promise – no, swear – that belly
dancers were definitely not involved before
he’d agree to come. And just to annoy
me, he insisted on pronouncing the name, which
is French for camel, as shah-moo instead of
shah-mow.
Why bother to invite him, you may wonder? Because
he loves to eat and has such a pitch-perfect
palate. It’s a pleasure to feed him something
delicious. And I knew that if he could get beyond
the clichéd idea of a Moroccan restaurant,
he’d recognize Chameau for the find that
it is.
You know that kind of place he’s thinking
of: all done up in soft rugs, embroidered poufs,
patterned tile and ornate lanterns. You wash
your hands at the table as someone in a fez
pours water from a silver pitcher into a basin.
The menu goes on and on, that belly dancer wiggles
by and set intervals, and finally there are
tiny glasses of fragrant mint tea. Once a year,
for special date or a birthday celebration,
it’s fun.
But Chameau is something different, the Moroccan
equivalent of a bistro, with a casual hip vibe
and small a la carte menu of smart contemporary
food that changes each season.
The restaurant started out three years ago in
a tiny storefront in Silver Lake, where it was
open only on weekends and was strictly BYOB.
Two months ago owners Kelly klemovich and Moroccan-born
chef Adel Chagar moved into a quirky spot on
Fairfax Avenue just north of Beverly Boulevard.
The look of the place is whimsical and slightly
goofy. The bar is bathed in cobalt blue light,
which induces a kind of giddiness. The dining
room is the size of a shoebox, pulsing with
color and pattern, Morocco as pinball machine.
Before you order a thing, a waiter in a black
djellaba and apron delivers a trio of miniature
tagines, the traditional glazed terra-cotta
dishes and conical lids. Inside are dark and
green olived slicked with olive oil, and eggplant
dip and – the one I scarf up every time
I go – preserved lemon dip laced with
sweet spices, made with lemons pickled in brine
until the peel becomes soft a silk.
The bread is the traditional flattened loaf
dotted with sesame seeds and anise seeds, served
warm. It’s made to Chameau’s recipe
by the lady at Diamond Baker next door, who
also helps out in the kitchen, out waiter tells
us.
The one dish you have to have at Chameau is
the bestial, which is, hands down, the best
around. It’s basically a savory pie of
some kind of poultry layered with eggs and almonds
and scented with lemon and cinnamon. Most Moroccan
restaurants use easily available filo dough
for the pastry leave, but no Chameau.
Chagar makes is with the traditional pastry
called warka, bouncing a ball of dough off a
hot pan to leave a single layer of thin fragile
pastry behind. The pastry leaves are piled up
and filled with duck (in Morocco it might be
pigeon), its dark, moist flesh playing beautifully
off the toasted almonds and fluffy curds of
egg simmered in stock and sweet spices. The
top is decorated with a drift of powdered sugar
and a trail of ground cinnamon. Together, the
flavors are sheer magic.
Butterflied sardines rubbed with charmoula,
a Moroccan spice mixture, are another enticing
starter. It’s rare enough to get sardines
in a restaurant, but these are delicious and
served with a roasted pepper salad. This is
real food, vibrant and interesting.
Cheeks are in fashion in California and Mediterranean
restaurants around town, usually tender morsels
of braised veal or beef for fall, but here lamb
cheeks are braised in a Dijon mustard sauce
and served on a bed of spinach as an appetizer.
It’s the perfect portion: They’re
too rich for an entire plateful.
Deep-fried mussel scattered over a salad are
less successful: the batter dominates so much,
there could be anything inside. But I do love
the juicy green salad with haricot verts, sliced
radish, lemon and argan oil, made from the nuts
of a tree that grows in the Moroccan dessert.
French bistros offer grilled merguez sausages,
but they’re usually not very high quality.
Here, these North African sausages are unusually
good, a loosely ground mixture of spicy lamb
nestled in a soothing garbanzo bean puree. If
you want to up the ante, try them with some
of Chameau’s own harissa, a hot sauce
made from a mixture of red Thai chiles and sweet
peppers.
Wines that are a match By now, after we’ve
shared a couple of rounds of appetizers, my
friend has forgotten all about the threat of
belly dancers and is happily eating.
The food is not an easy match with wine, but
Klemovich and company have come up with a short,
sweet list of Rhones and Central Coast reds
that hit the right notes, most at neighborhood
bistro prices. They’ve even found a few
Moroccan wines too, and a couple of decent roses.
The choice of labels, though, could be move
savvy.
Main courses are more traditional, mostly braised
dishes, with an emphasis on lamb. Char-grilled
chops are lovely accompanied by couscous studded
with zucchini and olives. But I’m partial
to the lamb shank, slow roasted to falling-off-the-bone
tenderness, paired with a refreshing mint-laced
couscous and spice quince.
Two can share saddle of lamb, which is sometimes
offered as a special, along with a couscous
ornamented with all sorts of vegetables. Plainer
yet is a beef tagine, or stew, with tomatoes
and onions. Poussin, though, is overcooked and
bland.
But the whole roasted loup de mer one friend
ordered the last time I cate at Chameau is now
my favorite dish. Boned at the table by the
famously shy chef himself, it is moist and tender,
perfumed with a charmoula, which is also served
on the side.
Vegetarians can put together a viable meal with
several of the appetizers or an all-vegetable
couscous and a couple of side. It’s a
lot more interesting than the usual grilled
vegetable plate at many restaurants.
Save room for dessert, especially bestila au
lait, which uses that same glorious pastry,
this time layered with a light pastry cream,
strawberries and toasted almonds. It’s
large enough to share, and it takes just moments
for the fragile pastry to entirely disappear.
There’s a fine warm chocolate cake too,
and a plate of Moroccan cookies, along with
a Moroccan “snake” filled with almond
paste. If you want something refreshing, go
with the mint ice cream or watermelon sorbet.
It’s also nice to find someplace where
the desserts are not in the double digits.
I could eat here a lot. And that’s the
point. Morocco has a rich culinary tradition
that’s barely explored in most menus.
Chameau’s small menu gives Chagar the
opportunity to explore a different piece of
Moroccan cuisine each season. His cooking isn’t
literal: That’s what’s so interesting.
He’s more like a jazz musician riffing
on a Moroccan theme, giving it an edge of cool.
Chameau
Rating: ** ½
Location: 339 N. Fairfax Ave.,
Los Angeles; (323) 951-0039
Ambience: Smart Moroccan Best
table: One of the U-shaped
bistro with a casual vibe, an a la booths along
the wall.
carte menu and a whimsical décor that’s
light on folklore, Special features: Catering
strong on design. Think Bauhaus textiles meets
‘50’s Details: Open for dinner coffee
shop. Tuesday through Sunday, 6 to 10 p.m. Beer
and wine. Lot and Service: welcoming and street
parking. Parking on weekends professional. in
Diamond Bakery lot just south of the restaurant,
$3
Price:
appetizers, $8 to $11;
main course, $18 to $25,
desserts, $5 to $6
Best dishes: Duck bestila,
butterflied sardines with
charmoula, grilled merguez
sausage, baked poussin with
saffron and green olives
slow-roasted lamb shank with
quince, raisin couscous, bestila
au lait, watermelon sorbet.
Wine list: Eclectic and
affordable, with a number of
selections under $30. Corkage
$10.
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