I went to Manzke before it closed. It used to hold one Michelin star — so rare in Los Angeles — and I really thought it deserved it. I was gutted when I went to book (this had been my LA restaurant lifeline!) only to discover it had shut its doors. Restaurants in the city are on the brink, yet I wasn’t expecting this one to suffer like the rest.
What they were doing there involved risk-taking, it was adventurous, and yes, this clearly didn’t help its survival. What remains, and is still standing, is their ever-popular Republique. The building itself is a major draw: an all-day eatery featuring a bakery, café, bar, and restaurant. They do it all.
It always begs the question: is this too much? Can you keep consistency and a certain level when you’re doing absolutely everything? Just thinking about it feels like a squeeze. I didn’t have brunch or visit the bakery; I came only for dinner. I’d need to return a few times to answer my own questions.
We started with a drink at the bar, then moved to a quieter dining area at the rear, on a mezzanine level where you can look down over the other diners. Exposed brickwork, an industrial tone, with a pinch of grandeur throughout — it’s nice.
Having been so impressed by Manzke, I left Republique thinking about how certain elements of the food could be improved. That said, it was still one of the most acceptable dinners I’d had so far on this trip. Definitely not bad, but nowhere near the level of its now-defunct leader.
Serving me a French baguette as a course means I’m not going to critique it any less than a crazy person. The best baguette I ever had, with insight into, was during culinary school in Paris. I still remember it (even after all these years), and what the chef said before tearing it open in front of us, warm and straight from the oven:
“This is one of the best you are going to come across in Paris.”
He wasn’t wrong. It was phenomenal. Wherever I go, I’ll always compare baguettes to this. The one at Republique had promise, but it wasn’t like those in France.
There was a mismatch in the food. On one hand, a dainty pork belly dish topped with caviar — something that could be awarded a star. On the other, a large steak plate more suited to a casual bistro. It was messy: jus flooding the plate, the steak placed on top, purée around the perimeter, with carrots thrown on. No. Slice the steak on a board, serve sauce and sides on the side, and then it wouldn’t be so confused. The plate was drowning in elements stacked on top of one another, which spoiled the eating. With this simple tweak, you could actually give the customer more — because the standard we wanted was already there!
In the US, they do chips (fries) well, and Republique was no exception: crisp, served hot, well-seasoned — fried like a pro. Nothing to say.
Despite my criticism, I had a better night in Los Angeles here. I wouldn’t drive across town for it again, but if I happened to be in the area, I’d give it another look.
P.S. Miss you, Manzke.
