California Boy

Written by Dr. Matthew Bessen / Photography by Eric Williams

What is it about those irreverent Californians? I mean that handful of boyish innovators so thoroughly at ease with their ingenious ideas that the revolution is over before anyone hears the first shot. I mean young Arnold Schwarzenegger plotting his international celebrity inside a sweaty Venice gym. I mean Steve Jobs assembling a computer in his garage. I mean George Lucas fleshing out a goofy science-fiction blockbuster, two sequels and three prequels in his undergraduate dorm room. Whatever that it may be, Seviche owner, chef, and self-described “California boy” Anthony Lamas must have been in the room when they were handing it out.

For Ellana and I, this was hardly the first visit to the contemporary Bardstown Road restaurant known as much for its innovative Latin-influenced fare as its spacious urban patio. She confided to me her regret that allowing the chef to guide us through a tasting menu would deny her another taste of her beloved “Mugs” Bistec, a tenderloin of beef with a fried egg on top. I replied that such are the sacrifices one makes for the sake of journalism. She soothed her disappointment with sips of the frosty, port-colored sangria from a tall glass garnished with a tropical tricolor of lemon, lime, and orange.

We were promptly offered the Seviche del Dia. This was red snapper in yuzu jalapeno ginger broth with microgreens, edamame, and soy foam. It was just large enough to reach the rim of a generous Chinese soup spoon and was surrounded by swaths of refreshing avocado puree.

Chef Lamas later filled us in on the origins and variety of seviche. The term refers to fresh fish marinated in citrus juice, usually accompanied by chili pepper. The most traditional versions are cultivated in the coastal regions of Latin America, with distinctive regional variations. For example, the Mexicans make it with corn; the Puerto Ricans use plantains; and in Trinidad, they may use pineapple or coconut. The name itself will change with the locale. Hence, in Peru, you ask for seviche, in Costa Rica ceviche, and in the Arabic world, one speaks of cebiche. Ellana and I thought the red snapper had a pleasing firmness (which surprised me, since technically, the fish is marinated and not cooked.) The jalapeno added only enough heat to impart a subtle liveliness to a dish that tasted like something we would expect to snack on while sitting on beach chairs next to the ocean. The irreverence of combining jalapeno with ginger broth and edamame was not unnoticed.

The willingness to step boldly across regional frontiers was displayed again when we were presented Churrascos de Argentina. The tasting size portion of this entrée was rolled to cradle a dollop of red mashed potatoes and held together with a bamboo skewer (perhaps the only element common to this dish and the traditional Andean anticucho.) Aside from the beef, the Argentinean element was supplied by a tangy, verdant chimichurri sauce dabbed on the white tile platter. Next to this was a paisley pool of poblano demiglace (a classic French treatment of a well-known Mexican chili.) Anticuchos are Peru’s version of satay and are typically sold by street vendors with more economical cuts of beef.

Among Chef Lamas’ influences was his boyhood environment in the heart of the San Joaquin Valley, California’s premier agricultural territory. A salad dish he calls 'Flavors of Arugula' harkens to this region in the shadow of the Sierras and presents slices of red and gold beets in the company of goat cheese, arugula puree and splashes of mustard sauce. The triangular white serving dish may be reminiscent of the snowy peaks that tower over the vast farms of the valley. The fresh beets offered a harmony of muted sweetness and earthiness that married well with the cool tanginess of the white bits of cheese.

I sampled the Oregon Forrest Mushroom Soup. This dish too represented a mélange of cultural influences. It had a deep mahogany hue and the savory richness of French onion soup suffused with the ardor of red chili pepper and ginger broth. It was topped by tan-colored crispy ribbons of rice noodles and a few tiny fan-shaped cilantro leaves. As usual, a minuscule amount of this herb left a bold footprint on an already spicy soup. Chef Lamas made the point that tables at Seviche do not carry salt or pepper shakers. His goal is to offer dishes with intense seasoning that require no amplification.

The most spectacular presentation belonged to the seviche of line-caught ahi tuna. The mixture of fresh sushi-grade ahi, diced tomatoes and broth of sesame, scallion, coconut, chili, and ginger was served in a cauldron-like half of a coconut. The deep vessel with its bark-like exterior and brilliant circle of snowy coconut flesh surrounded the crimson interior, dotted with green flecks of scallion or pea sprouts, and rested on a cushion of seaweed salad. Again, this dish transported Ellana and me to the ocean. Equally delightful was the interplay of the coldness of the chilled broth and the warmness of the red chili. For Chef Lamas, the fresh fish is a reflection of his early training at the Lowe’s Coronado in San Diego. There is also some irony in that our UPS hub is typically the first stopover for fish destined for markets around the rest of the country, and thus, land-locked Louisville can provide a greater selection of fresher seafood than most oceanfront cities.

Anthony Lamas has used some of his growing notoriety to become an advocate for sustainable approaches to harvesting the ocean’s resources. He declines to serve bluefin tuna or hamachi, which have been overfished and has been recognized as a Seafood Ambassador by the Monterrey Bay Aquarium in response to his leadership as an advocate for environmentally friendly fishing and fish farming practices. Among those fishes he deems sustainable is the Hawaiian wahoo. Served in the style “Tirado” (the Spanish word meaning thrown), slices of the fish were embellished with rocoto chile, ginger, and soy, another east meets Latin west arrangement. The fish was mild and tender but stood up well in the company of the spicy condiments.

Chef Lamas' familiarity and affinity for the range of Latin cooking was partly his birthright, descending, as he did, from a Puerto Rican father and a Spanish mother. He recalls with glee entertaining his mother and grandmother at Seviche and gauging their looks as they received dishes whose appearance they found to be alien. After the first bite, they would exclaim, “This is the same food we used to cook for you!” Ellana tried one of these dishes called Fideo. The core was a mound of angel hair pasta with a simple butter and garlic sauce studded with artichoke hearts, asparagus, truffle goat cheese, toasted pine nuts, and grape tomatoes. The pasta was surrounded by a trio of seared scallops and a garnish of sundried tomato oil.

My entrée was far more simple but no less delicious. The fish taco is a well-known staple in Pacific Beach, but the Mahi Taco at Seviche elevates this prosaic dish. Whether it is the fresh-made corn tortillas with a precise cross-hatching of pencil-thin grill marks, the slender columns of flaky mahi-mahi made moist by the pico de gallo, lime aioli and shredded cabbage, or the jalapeno sauce on the side, these tacos were an example of everyday transformed to gourmet.

Our dessert was a bourbon apple bread pudding with spots of chocolate sauce and dulce de leche. I suppose it does not harm a Louisville restaurant to make a nod to our proud Kentucky heritage, even if it gets a little Latin flavoring. Chef Lamas told us about his plans to expand and renovate the space at Seviche. Whatever intimacy may be sacrificed by these changes is certain to be replaced by more of this young chef ’s bold imagining and creative vision, calling on his unique combination of culinary heritage, sophisticated training, and inspired innovation.