Last Thursday, Kelsey, of PR firm Wagstaff Worldwide, was subjected to an entire evening at Il Sole with Diana, Sarah, Sook, and me. While she did intend to organize a food blogger dinner, I don’t think she ever anticipated us bullying our way into an exclusive dinner for just the four of us. Ha, we’re sneaky like that. Or maybe we’re just co-dependent.

Il Sole is relatively small, but not in a La Buca pre-expansion sort of way. It’s intimate, cozy, romantic. Like I told my dinner partners that night, it reminds me of one of those places I can only afford going with my parents, you know, like Europe. But then once you’re there it’s so romantic that you wish your parents would beat it so you could sneak Andrés, the Spaniard you met when you broke off to smoke in a park, into your fancy hotel room. Actually, that’s not what I said to my dinner partners at all now that I think about it. Basically, take a date, not your parents.
Here’s their shot of the interior, but it was definitely more dimly lit when we were there:

Because of the intimate atmosphere, and the restaurant’s generally over-photographed celebrity clientele, we were asked to take our photos sans flash so as not to be super obnoxious and ruin any meals/chances of sealing the deal with Andrés.
What I’m trying to tell you is, my pictures suck.
We had bread with olive oil and peppers to start:

at which point the flash had to go night-night.
Kelsey had arranged for a bevy of starters, including some vegan options for me. I like her already.
Antipasto misto con verdure grigliate:

Plus an extra plate without the meat:

My personal favorite, Insalata di verdura stagionale all griglia, a seasonal grilled vegetable salad with avocado:

Good ol’ dairy eating me yearned for this one. Can’t believe it’s been more than 4 years since I’ve had burrata.
Burrata pugliese con pomodori e rucola–imported burrata with vine ripened tomatoes, arugula, basil and extra virgin olive oil:


Next each of us found in front of us a plate of parmigiana di melanzane alla napoletana, or eggplant parmigiana “napoli” style with a tomato, basil sauce, and parmesan cheese. a nice, small portion without the breading. dairy-eating lauren mentally bitch-slapped vegan lauren when this came:

Il Sole is by no means a vegan restaurant and I pretty much never expect non-vegan restaurants to have vegan dishes on the menu, much less to accommodate my special requests. I was blown away, though, when I learned they had both rice pasta (!) and tempeh in the kitchen for picky people like me.

This was actually a table favorite. Maybe they should throw it on the menu! No? Pushing my luck? K.
Lobster ravioli:


Spinach ravioli:


Baked Branzino and another fish, not sure which. Somebody tell me.


At this point in the meal, a fan of Sarah’s recognized her from her blog and surprise attacked. She was so excited/nervous about seeing Sarah that she could barely hold still for me to capture the moment. It was pretty weird adorable.

Dessert came and dairy-eating me gave regular me a one-two combo followed by an uppercut.
Not so much because of this:

But because of this:


Just as the world is a sad place without Michael Jackson, and Showtime is a sad place without L Word, my tummy is a sad place without bread pudding in it.
The Good News? You don’t need your parents to have a hot date at Il Sole, especially if you go on a Sunday. Chef Issac Rivera has introduced affordable Rustic Dinners on Sunday evenings so you can get the full family style Italian experience and the, holy shit, that was kind of a bargain, experience. You know the one.
For $35, you get to select one appetizer and one main course from a list of Italian comfort foods, including this tomato bread soup, veal osso bucco, sweet potato ravioli, branzino, lasagna, eggplant parmesan, and burrata, to name just a few of the prix-fixe options.

You can opt to add dessert, ranging from $6-$8 and wine from $8-$11 by the glass or $29-$39 by the bottle.
Il Sole has been around for nearly 15 years, a rare feat in the restaurant world and a sign that sometimes usually it’s beautiful, simple, well-cooked food that outlasts trends like tapas and food trucks.
After dinner, Sarah convinced us all to join her for a drink at Delphine in the new W on Vine and Hollywood.
Crowd was exactly what you imagine. Prince of Persia meets Christian Audigier formalwear.
Decor was cooler than the place deserved maybe. Almost like a 4th grader having his architect mom build his Mission for the school project.

Something’s not adding up.


We had a bizarre after dinner combination of bread, olives, and sorbet. And more wine.



I accidentally ate a giant clove of garlic out of the olive bowl, having mistakenly assumed it was an artichoke heart. Nobody’s fault but my own. That’s like mistaking me for Oprah. Clearly no resemblance.
Sorbet flavors were nothing to write home about–lemon, mango and raspberry. Lemon was popular, and since I’m a rebel without a cause I immediately rejected the lemon and bonded with the mango.



Delphine? I wasn’t ultra impressed or super horrified, so I’d get peer pressured back into going.
Il Sole–I’ll be doing the peer pressuring. Every Sunday for the rest of our lives! Who’s in??

Where the paps at?! did they capture the 4 of you doing the SATC walk out of Il Sole?
If you don’t stop including fotos of me looking like the cinematographer from that Arnold Schwartzenegger film with that monster in the jungle shot it and I’m the monster, I find you at you know where and you know where and then I take retaliatory foto of you looking tragic and then the gloves are off little fingers!
um, nobody would have known that was you, Blurrybutt, if you hadn’t just announced it. I’m just sayin.
I’m in! But only if you tie my hands to my chair so I can’t eat all the bread.
Gosh darn that delicious bread.
Andres, huh? You will need to elaborate on that the next time we do bratpack.