You probably didn’t dream about pasta last night.
Probably.
But if you did, it might’ve looked a little something like Bucato, a towering shrine to the magical possibilities of flour meeting water. It’s from Rustic Canyon chef Evan Funke—and it’s finally, finally opening Wednesday.
And when Wednesday happens, here’s what you’ll do. 1) Dramatically cancel all Wednesday meetings. 2) Program 310-876-0286 into your phone. 3a) Do some light phone stretches starting around 9:15am—repeatedly curl your dialing finger, that sort of thing. 3b) 9:30am. The phone lines open. And Bucato will only accept same-day reservations. So... procure same-day reservations. 4) Take a moment to silently congratulate yourself on correctly living life.
And then... 5) You’ll walk into the bright light of what could only be called pasta heaven. Two patios. A bunch of knives plunged deep into a towering white wall, their handles making the shape of California. A chandelier made out of rolling pins. And a glass-encased pasta lab upstairs, where things that aren’t noodles become noodles. This lab is doing important work.
So yeah, business lunch. Alfresco wine date. Quick dinner. Special-occasion dinner. It’s all happening here, over squash blossoms, nectarines and fresh strascinati... or tagliatelle with pigeon ragù.
Yes, it’s exactly what you think it is.
Probably.
But if you did, it might’ve looked a little something like Bucato, a towering shrine to the magical possibilities of flour meeting water. It’s from Rustic Canyon chef Evan Funke—and it’s finally, finally opening Wednesday.
And when Wednesday happens, here’s what you’ll do. 1) Dramatically cancel all Wednesday meetings. 2) Program 310-876-0286 into your phone. 3a) Do some light phone stretches starting around 9:15am—repeatedly curl your dialing finger, that sort of thing. 3b) 9:30am. The phone lines open. And Bucato will only accept same-day reservations. So... procure same-day reservations. 4) Take a moment to silently congratulate yourself on correctly living life.
And then... 5) You’ll walk into the bright light of what could only be called pasta heaven. Two patios. A bunch of knives plunged deep into a towering white wall, their handles making the shape of California. A chandelier made out of rolling pins. And a glass-encased pasta lab upstairs, where things that aren’t noodles become noodles. This lab is doing important work.
So yeah, business lunch. Alfresco wine date. Quick dinner. Special-occasion dinner. It’s all happening here, over squash blossoms, nectarines and fresh strascinati... or tagliatelle with pigeon ragù.
Yes, it’s exactly what you think it is.
