Searching around the area for a new restaurant to try led us to Workshop Kitchen & Bar. Two chefs who met at the Paul Bocuse Institute put their heads together and took over the historic El Paseo building in the design district of Palm Springs. Working with an architect in New York, they transformed the premises. Unfortunately, as we were walk‑ins and I didn’t want to wait an hour and a half for a table, nor put my credit card into their system on the same day I would be dining, we settled for seats at the bar. Obviously, this didn’t give the full effect. Still, you were able to turn your back and admire the striking architecture all around you.
Their website is well done; it could put many Michelin‑starred restaurants to shame. It is well marketed. The restaurant does not hold a star but is still listed in the guide. Anyhow, let’s start with the menu. It has promise, and looking at it shows me all the things I genuinely want to eat, well managed in terms of quantity (which is odd for America). We went for lots of different items in the ‘smalls’ section, where we spotted a mistake. A wood‑fired sourdough pizza was in there, me thinking it would be, as it says, ‘small’. It wasn’t. I could have ordered just this and been satisfied.
The bartender came over to me after taking our order. “Just to let you know that everything will be coming out when it’s ready. Sorry, hope that’s OK,” he said. “Erm, can you space it out and go slower, or else everything will be sitting here getting cold?” I replied. He put his head down and didn’t answer me, as if to say it’s not possible, without actually telling me it’s not possible. A brilliant way to ignore the customer’s needs and say no.
I really hate it when restaurants do this. I don’t want to eat cold food, and I want to take my time. From an eating aspect, this is a valid point. To be fair to them, it didn’t come out super‑fast, but the pizza — which was supposed to be small — arrived first, so it sat there for the whole dinner, toppings getting cold, pizza sauce cold, the cheese shrivelling up and looking unappealing. Maybe they expected me to eat this in one shot as soon as it was put down. Probably the norm in America, but not for me!
The food itself carried flavour, moving away from the usual American/California attempts that often fail to impress. I particularly liked the lamb kefta — finally someone serving lamb how it’s supposed to be in this state. I didn’t need to send it back for the millionth time for being under‑ or overcooked. The pitta was satisfactory; it didn’t come close to the one at Orla in Santa Monica, but you could see it was made in‑house.
I was thankful for some vegetables. The heirloom carrots still held that bite I always look for, paired with tzatziki, grilled local dates, Suzee’s honey, harissa vin, and fresh herbs. It’s a nice dish and recognising that Europe was present on these plates is probably why I had some good things to say.
For dessert, it reminded me of an apple tarte Tatin. They made both the pastry and the ice cream themselves (I asked), but I wanted more sweetness from the apples — perhaps some more sugar, if there was any to begin with. I would take the sweetness up a notch. It was quite timid. After my second mouthful, I had to remove a large hair from it, which was off‑putting, so I stopped eating.
Was it mind‑blowingly, out‑of‑this‑world? It wasn’t, but I did have one of my best dinners in California this trip, and that is a rare thing. Flavour‑forward plates, leaning more towards Europe than America, using clearly local ingredients. When you think about it, this is a match — but only when you can do it well. Team Europe!
