Home > Los Angeles Restaurants > Restaurant Review > First impressions: Hidden

Five chefs, four types of cuisine, celebrity investors and a “secret” location. Hidden, Santa Monica’s gimmicky new restaurant, was destined for unclassifiable culinary purgatory from the get-go. Fabrizio Bianconi and Warren Cuccurullo, best known for Via Veneto a couple of doors down, apparently became bored with just Italian. So they gathered together five chefs with different regional expertise and created a thick menu of Italian, Vietnamese, Japanese and Spanish options. It’s not about fusion, it’s diversity. Which means it’s the perfect place for a group when no one can agree on a type of food. But be prepared for an evening that becomes something like visiting a schizophrenic cousin: exciting, confusing and best experienced in small doses with plenty of potables.

Hidden’s location on Main Street is not exactly a secret. It is, after all, in the former space of Schwarzenegger's Schatzi. But there’s still some joy in wandering through the courtyard, up the staircase to the unmarked door partly shrouded in greenery. Once we arrive, we get a fleeting sensation of entering an exclusive club. The hostess helps to foster this impression, offering a nod that seems to say, “Pleasure to serve you, chosen one.”

Between the sleek sushi bar in the formal dining room and the patio, we choose the latter. A DJ spins funky mash-ups of Billie Holiday and Bob Marley as we move past cabanas befitting a blinged-out rapper and his harem. The patio is large and bordered by trees and shrubs; it feels a little like sitting in a tree house. One level above, the intimate, U-shaped lounge deck is doing what it was obviously designed for: facilitating the swapping of phone numbers.

Before tackling the encyclopedic food and wine menu, we need a drink. Loosened up with twin cock-tinis, we try the salmon and avocado roll (beyond fresh), unagi (fine) and red snapper ceviche—the last, with its light citrusy crunch, becomes the highlight of our meal. With the exception of pizza, virtually everything on the menu is served—say it with us—tapas style. But as mini as the Kobe beef tacos, oysters, lamb chop lollipops and braised beef may be, we can sample only so much.

With the parade of small plates behind us, ordering anything Italian is a nauseating idea. But our charming server gives us the lowdown that the chef is a world champion pizza thrower. Toss as he may, the pie called Via Veneto is disappointing. Although the thin crust and truffle oil-coated porcini mushrooms are nice, the sauce-free pizza is dry with a topping of bitter fried arugula. At least we don’t make the same mistake as the fellow who orders the lobster and caviar-coated Beluga pizza without spotting its $250 price tag. Ouch. That kind of schizo dining experience can really hurt.

A crazy strategy that will drive you nuts: Insist on studying the entire menu.

A crazy strategy that kinda makes sense: Open the menu at random. Whatever page opens up, stick to that. Order lots of drinks.

The absolutely-balls-out-on-your-AmEx strategy: Reserve a cabana ahead of time and enjoy racking up the $1,000 minimum.

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