In the last few weeks I’ve been hit with an overwhelming
craving to eat calamari, aka “fried calamari in
the typical fashion." To me that translates to breaded rings and tiny tentacles of squid that are deep-fried and served hot and crispy. When I refer to calamari I
am never referring to grilled calamari on top of greens or that newish fad of calamari sticks—a stack of breaded calamari planks
that when picked up flounce up and down like a rubber pencil. Nope, those latter types of calamari are just not for me.
Calamari is one of those proteins in which I suspend my
disbelief about 80% regarding what I’m actually eating. What can I say, I could barely look into the famous and breathtakingly gorgeous jellyfish tank at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, and while I know that jellyfish are not quite the same as squid, still, this type of creature is not what I like to imagine ingesting with full cognitive awareness. Calamari is squid after all, and
personally I do not find squid attractive to look at or think about chewing. That said, the tiny tentacles pieces on a typical fried calamari plate is pretty much the squid sticking its tongue out at me proclaiming, "See, how could you NOT know you're eating me, the squid." Alas, how true, and that is likely why 20% of my brain always gets that eating delicious fried calamari equals eating pieces of a once squiggly, icky squid.
Could be why most savvy restaurateurs in these parts call the dish fried calamari instead of fried squid. In this food blogger's opinion, that move was
a little dose of menu engineering magic on menu pages everywhere. This not-obvious word appearance on an appetizer list could even lead McNugget-eating
youngsters to try some, even if in the end it doesn't quite taste like chicken.
A while ago I blogged about the best calamari ever,
and that would be from Carmine’s in NYC. Their fried calamari isn't just a culinary delight; it's also a cultural one. As I wrote in 2009:
 |
| Carmine's, by www.foodspotting.com |
 |
| Vinoteca |
It's also fun to enjoy calamari when it's co-starring in fritto
misto. Then you get other treats beyond fried squid. My new
favorite spot to get this dish is a local wine bar in the Los Feliz neighborhood
of LA called Vinoteca. The dish there is called Frito Misto di Pesce, it costs $13 but during happy hour is only $7! This is a great deal considering the dish consists of perfectly prepared calamari, soft chucks of white
fish, shrimp and spicy zucchini. I’ve had it about three times now, and two times ago I was
halfway through eating it when I realized the shrimp were missing. I asked the
server if the kitchen changed the recipe. She checked with the kitchen and came back to my table to shrug and say something refreshingly honest: “They just forgot
to put the shrimp in this time.” That was good news on two fronts: 1) Turns out they make each batch fresh, and 2) The shrimp hadn't been removed from the dish. As I was leaving that night, the kitchen insisted they fry up some shrimp for me to take to go as a way to apologize. Not necessary, but a very nice touch.
 |
| Dominick's |
The other place I just realized makes fine fried calamari is Dominick’s in Beverly Hills (it's the sister restaurant of Little Dom's in Los Feliz). I'm usually in that neighborhood Monday evenings, so a few weeks ago I stopped by and thought it was time I try something other than their famous rice ball. Dominick's calamari was straight-up what you would expect from a very good Italian place, and it did not disappoint. The dish also went especially well with a dirty Grey Goose martini.
From my experiences in this country, calamari is served 95% of the time with marinara sauce on
the side. With the exception of Carmine’s, I almost never dip my fried
calamari into that sauce. To me, it’s like dipping my food into thick fancy ketchup,
which in my opinion hides the true taste of food. The only reason I may use
some of that Carmine’s sauce is because there’s so much calamari on that plate,
your palate needs a little something to break up the fried monotony (not
to mention Carmine’s sauces are always amazing so it’s hard to deny them). Of course it is
never my intension to ignore that little ramekin of red sauce and hurt the chef's feelings.
It's simply that I prefer to eat calamari in the traditional Italian style: with a demure squeeze
of lemon, from the slice that is always included on the plate. The acid in the lemon
helps break up the fried monotony too, yet it doesn’t cloud any of the flavors;
it only enhances them.
Until we eat again,
Marly
