If you care at all about food, your library should include a copy of Counter Intelligence, a collection of restaurant reviews by LA Weeklydining critic Jonathan Gold. The man is Bach on a keyboard, producing astounding, evocative tales of culinary adventures that consistently win the top food-writing awards (indeed, I gave up applying for those damn prizes years ago). I recently thought about my food god after trying the prosciutto offered at Ristorante Max in Newport Beach.
One of my favorite Gold pieces involved him eating a live prawn at a Korean restaurant. “I bit into the animal,” he wrote, “devouring all of its sweetness in one mouthful, and I felt the rush of life pass from its body into mine, the sudden relaxation of its feelers, the blankness I swear I could see overtaking its eyes. It was weird and primal and breathtakingly good, and I don't want to do it again.” The prosciutto at Ristorante Max isn't sliced off the hock of a breathing pig, but it might as well be. The meat, served in paper-thin portions alongside greens, quickly melts on your tongue, unleashing a wave of sweet porcine funkiness that won't leave your palate for hours. It's rich, too rich, and you can only eat a couple of bites before pushing away the dish. And yet you bite, again and again.
The prosciutto nicely embodies the virtues of Ristorante Max, nestled in that area of Newport Beach that's not too ostentatious or filled with drunk sluts. Owner-chef Massimo Carro prepares meals that are excessive, but in a good way: the flavors expand the boundaries of what passes for Italian cuisine in Orange County.
He starts with the restaurant's design—not rustic or hectic like too many Bucca di Beppo rip-offs, but sleek: a large, whitewashed dining room decorated with paintings of the Amalfi Coast (where the original Max is located). There's a wine room for private dinners, and open kitchen that doesn't intrude on your quiet evening. Bossa nova lulls listeners. An espresso/wine bar draws in customers looking for a quick snack or post-prandial session. Most of the waiters are Italians—ladies, get ready for flirting.
The menu changes often, so Carro probably phased out many of the dishes I've tried by the time you read this. Sucks for you. Zucchini flowers, fried with a light tempura coating and plump with ricotta, were as close to vegetable perfection as can be achieved with something not including heirloom tomatoes. A dish of miniature gnocchi was filling yet light, expertly balancing a slew of flavors—cheese, tomato, basil, the wheat-intense pasta—battling for attention. The lasagna, too, isn't what you've come to expect from a century of Italian-American cooking: it's dense yet airy—the proof of a restaurant that takes time—and actually gourmet.
No matter how much Carro changes his entrées, some constants will remain. Seafood dominates Max's non-veggie section—the breaded sea bass, paired with strips of red pepper, is like candy plucked from the Pacific. Orata, a sweet-fleshed fish common to Mediterranean cuisine, is dotted with capers and olives. The calamari is okay, but you can't go wrong with a massive plate of sautéed mussels and clams, each bivalve juicy and musky.
But the best thing about Ristorante Max is the pastas: spaghetti, tagliolini, ravioli, rigatoni, all mixed with a variety of vegetables. Ordering pasta guarantees that your meal will take a bit longer than what's considered polite, but cut Carro and his staff slack: they're preparing the pastas and meals on the spot. Even if you're still a bit upset, all is forgiven after tasting the best Italian sauce in Orange County: a warm, thick condiment that's like biting into a fresh tomato, juicy infused with basil.
Ristorante Max could stand to offer a bit more. There are few meat dishes—lamb chops, some veal entrées, and that magical prosciutto. And the popularity of the restaurant means they run out of certain ingredients toward the end of the week—one Sunday, they only had clams and calamari. All minor quibbles, though. Ristorante Max is wonderful, never dull, always enthralling—just like Jonathan Gold. Patronize both now.
RISTORANTE MAX, 1617 WESTCLIFF DR., STE. 121, NEWPORT BEACH, (949) 515-8500. OPEN MON.-FRI., 11:30 A.M-11 P.M.; SAT.-SUN., 5 P.M.-11 P.M. DINNER FOR TWO, $50-$100, EXCLUDING DRINKS. FULL BAR.
