FOOD: Bestia

When friends told us they had snagged a reservation at Bestia, we jumped at the chance to join them. The setting is quintessential DTLA Arts District, in an old warehouse in the shadow of the 7th Street bridge, its name painted on corrugated tin, an industrial skylit patio, a line of people outside, and a buzzy vibe inside. The menu reflects daily market variations and offers rustic Italian cooking, mostly simple preparations letting exceptional ingredients perfectly cooked speak for themselves. Much is house-made, as showcased on the salumi board featuring two kinds of salumi (one with a peppery bite, the other more mild), prosciutto, mortadella (studded with pistachios, and so not your childhood sandwich meat), and a spreadable pate on grilled bread. Housemade sausage gives a warm meatiness to the cavatelli alla norcina, thick little ropes of ricotta pasta, graced with black truffle and grana Padano. A refreshing wintry salad combines cucumbers with Fuyu persimmons, fresh dill, mint, and marjoram, on a smear of mascarpone. Chicken gizzards were pan-roasted to perfection, tossed with roasted beets and endive, and topped with shaved capra sarda (a goat cheese). Charred Brussels sprouts have a hit of lemon and Aleppo pepper. A whole branzino is perfectly grilled with charred seasoned skin and moist white flesh, with fried herbs on the outside, and bright baby greens stuffed inside where they essentially steamed. Even the cocktails were redolent of the rustic Italian kitchen. My old fashioned had lardo-infused bourbon with a big chunk of smoked ice. And we were guided to a very crisp Sicilian white wine to compliment the fish. We shared two desserts. Generous chunks of Hachiya persimmon and pistachios colored and flavored a creamy rice pudding, while a crumbly dark cacao crust cradled a rich chocolate budino, which we chased with a Quinta do Infantado LBV.