“Hey, I’m Lucques,” he said to us with a handshake, his blonde wavy hair giving a soft twinkle in the Spring evening sunlight. “I hear you’ve been waiting a long time to come over. That’s really cool, guys: I’m really stoked to have you guys! And, on your birthday? Man: that’s really special. Come on in and take a seat–I saved you guys a table in the back. The space is totally rad and really nice because it’s basically an entire skylight and there are trees and vines and–well, you just have to see it.”

He leads us back through his place, a few other friends of his hanging out at tables and eating–but he only seems to care about us. Lucques has this constant cool and almost perma-smile. He’s dressed really sharply and kind of looks like a smarter version of Matthew McConaughey. He’s kind magaical: it’s like he knows we’ve been wanting to visit him for years. We sit down. “How’s this table? Good?” he motions to the quaint little tree next to us that overlooks our table. He places a hand to his chest. “You guys are right in my heart, at the center of all the other tables. It’s my favorite spot in here, really. I’m going to take great care of you.”

“Would you guys like a drink? Of course you’d like a drink,” he says placing two orangey, pinkey drinks. One’s in a little highball glass and the other is a tall thin glass. “The little one is the Moscow Margarita, which is our take on the classic and put through some twists and turns. It’s really refreshing on a warm night like this. And this is the São Paulo, which is a really complex seasonal cocktail we have of cachaça and Campari and absinthe. That drink will take you places. There’s magic in that drink.”

He sets the drinks down and leans in with a wink. “How about something to eat?”

We nod our heads, our eyes twinkling. It is now very apparent that we’ve had a crush on Lucques for some time. We’ve read about him for years and heard fairy tales from friends about visiting him. We never thought that we’d be able to hang out with him. And, sure, we always knew he’d be nice–but not this nice and relaxed. He’s totally cool and laid back: he’s the embodiment of classic, contemporary Los Angeles. “I’ll grab you guys some treats. You two just relax and sip those cocktails. Here’s a little bread and olives for you guys to enjoy, too.”

“Guys: look what I have for you,” he says with two small plates in hand. “These little gems are, well, Little Gems. It’s a type of lettuce. But, you guys knew that, right?” We smirk and smile back: we thought a Little Gem was a fish nugget or something. “Well, the gems are with a little carrot and egg and anchovy. It’s really special. And this over here: endive and crab. It’s a nice, shareable salad with apple. It’s for the salad eater who likes a bit of bitter. You guys cool with that?”

The dishes were indeed treats and we definitely feel a little embarrassed about the Little Gem mixup. We hope the tables next to us can’t hear our thoughts. “Man, are you guys ready for your entrees or what? I have two really special ones for you,” he says placing down two plates. He pulls up a chair. “This little lady is the lobster pasta. I’m not sure if you’re ready for her, guys. She’s pretty special and unlike anything else around: she’s garlicky and has these sweet peas and huge chunks of lobster claws, all with this super fresh tomato confit.” I take a bite and look up at him with a blank amazement: “I told you,” he says nodding.

“This guy is something I know you’ll be a fan of: it’s some sea bass served over a warm beet puree and some blood orange and mint. It’s not sweet though but somehow tastes almost like an alternative marinara. That sounds weird–but try it, guys. You’ll love it. I know you will. I’ll let you guys be, okay? I’ll grab another round of cocktails, too. Then, I have a surprise for you.”

We exchange surprised glances and eat our meals. Both are beyond delicious, Lucques obviously underselling everything to us. We try to keep what he made for us in our mouths as long as possible so we don’t forget the taste or feel of anything. We wish Lucques could have dined with us but he’s obviously a very busy and popular guy. At the perfect beat after finishing our meal, Lucques comes back with a hand behind his back, “I want you two to close your eyes. No peeking–eyes closed? You sure?”

We can hear something placed on the table and silverware being set. “You two can open your eyes. Surprise!” he reveals a small plate of churros. “I know you guys weren’t expecting this. But, come on: what isn’t more Los Angeles than churros?? Of course we made some for you and we have some semi-sweet chocolate for you to dip it in and some horchata/dulce de leche ice cream to go with it. Have at it, you guys. I’ll be back when you’re finished up to see you out.”

We again try to take as long as possible with dessert, mostly because we’re in shock that he knew we wanted churros and that he actually made some for us. Lucques returns once we’re finished. “It’s that time. It was great meeting you two: you are both really, really cool. You’ll be back, right? Don’t shake your head yes if you’re lying–you have to come back for a visit! I’m not going anywhere so be sure to stop by and visit–and just ask for Lucques. I’d be more than stoked to hang out with you two again.”

We start to push the door open. “Oh, Kyle,” Lucques calls to me. “I hope you had a fantastic birthday. I’m honored we could spend it together.”

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