ESCAPES: L.A. Eats Part 2: Beverly Hills, Brentwood, Santa Monica & Venice

We're not talking cutting edge here. This is a dining round-up comprised of restaurants that have been open for quite some time now. So it may not be about the latest iteration of avocado toast from Sqirl or the hottest new entry from the Animal guys. But we are talking about beautiful food, innovative food, and in other cases just simple, soulful food done well: five examples of restaurants in L.A., center and west to Santa Monica and Venice Beach, each offering their own spin on dining as people-pleasing experience.

The Getty Center itself is an amazing spot where one can both escape and overlook the city. The architecture and design of the grounds is reason enough to visit, regardless of what's on exhibit within these curved, soaring walls. The gardens and landscaping are another draw, and the setting on high makes this day trip-worthy. But best of all, particularly if you're a lover of expertly-prepared, refined cuisine in gorgeous spaces? The Restaurant at the Getty Center. Here, I enjoyed lunch in the sun-soaked dining room with my former-pastry chef, always-culinarily curious-friend Deb. We feasted on a light, modern bouillabaisse, beautifully stacked in a shallow bowl. We tucked into a rich but light cannelloni with ricotta, laced with carrots and squash blossoms and enoki mushrooms, topped with fresh greens. And we went for one dessert between the two of us, because really, how could we not try at least a little something sweet? 

Our choice was a tempting, moist banana cake and mousse topped with caramelized bananas and drenched in a decadent dark chocolate sauce. We were definitely slowed down after the lunch, but we'd been smart to see most of the museum and its grounds before digging in, so all we really needed to do was wander through one wing looking at photos, before heading home for an afternoon nap.

The airy dining room of the Restaurant at the Getty Center

Next up? No trip to modern day L.A.'s food world would be complete without a stop at Jose Andres's The Bazaar. The place is surreal. You walk into the hotel lobby of the SLS Beverly Hills, designed by Phillipe Starck, and immediately feel like you've been swept away through the Looking Glass into a bizarre-o Wonderland for food chemists and tinkerers. And essentially, that's what Andres is. Like Ferran Adria' before him (who was also a mentor), Andres plays with his food, but in the most refined and delightful way, fully bringing all the senses together to taste, smell, see, feel. Only a chef with a sense of humor, playfulness, and confidence would serve the puffed sugar air that is cotton candy, and use it on his savory menu, to encapsulate a nugget of foie gras within. The menu is peppered with quotation marks and asterisks. Mussels are "en escabeche," there is a deconstructed Philly cheese steak that becomes thinly sliced raw or lightly-seared wagyu beef on cheesy "pillow bread", and even the most ubiquitous of classic Spanish dishes, the torta espanola (basically a thick egg frittata loaded with potatoes and onion) is re-imagined as a tortilla de patatas "new way" with potato foam, something called egg 63, and caramelized onions. And of course, there are the olives served three ways -- one of which is famously liquefied and then encapsulated in an olive skin-like skin. Though it's now a standard dish in the molecular gastronomy canon, it still thrills to bite into the "olive". We skipped the basics in the cheese and jamon categories (of top quality, I'm sure, but there is more exciting eating to be done here), and went for the slightly exotic dishes, along with ones that just sounded plain delicious. I loved the twists on Spanish and Mediterranean food, like the examples above, plus any iteration of ceviche/tartare/raw fish deliciousness always makes me giddy when I know I'm in great chef hands.

The meal ended up being a feast for the taste buds and we stuffed ourselves to the gills -- though not before being redirected to the dessert bar for a super-sweet ending to the meal. The place looked like something out of Willy Wonka or "The Nutcracker" -- it was over-the-top in its confectionery pastel wonder. We stumbled out after dessert in a diabetic coma that overtook any of the bubbly we consumed with dinner! It was a great experience and something in which we all should partake at least once.

I headed out to Venice Beach because it was a new experience for me (fortunate enough to have seen Venice, Italy countless times before I'd ever seen the Californian version!), and because my cousin was playing a music gig out there: motivation to make the trek west. We walked the coastline, noting the kitschy surf shops, spotting "Muscle Beach" made famous in the 1980s, and passed many a hawker of medical marijuana cards asking us if we suffered from headaches, wink wink. We finally settled in to meet up with another local friend of mine from our days in Rome. We had beers on the beach as the sun lowered in the sky, and eventually went to dinner at a decades-old standby for Mexican(ish) food -- not, as the name might imply, Moroccan cuisine -- called Casablanca.

As in white house. But mostly named after the movie. Confusing, I know. Anyway, the place is famous for their  awesomely potent margaritas, shaken and mixed in front of you from the guy with the margarita cart. There were also a few older Mexican ladies making homemade tortillas for diners to watch. (The whole city of L.A. knows something about showmanship). The obligatory mariachi band was there too, of course. We enjoyed the standards of Mexican menus in America -- guacamole and freshly-fried crispy tortilla chips and salsa, enchiladas with refried beans and rice, and seafood and veggie fajitas. They were all very decent versions of these standards, and we left satisfied and fortified for my cousin's performance, which was (of course) fab. I was able to see the charms of living on the "west side," as locals call it, with access to the coast line and all of the lazy living (in the best way) that goes along with it.

 

In Santa Monica, there are lots of offerings. Sushi Roku is a modern, Americanized (but not too much) Japanese restaurant specializing in fun, original sushi, sashimi, and maki. I always ask my L.A. friends if we can go there one night for dinner, because I still hold steadfast to the belief that sushi is better on the U.S. west coast. Something about the Pacific shared with Japan, I suppose. The dining room is funky, modern Asian chic and the menu is full of interesting flavor combinations, both for raw fish lovers, and those who only order off of the "cooked" menu at a Japanese restaurant. It's hard not to over-order as my eyes always seem to be bigger than my stomach here. Of the same ilk, but in West Hollywood -- and therefore a bit more dressy-appointment dining, is KOI. Like half of the places in this neighborhood, we have one in New York (two, actually). But again, the west coast thing with sushi. And this mini-chain of restaurants has outposts as far-flung as Bangkok and Abu Dhabi. As expected, the Asian-inflected cocktails here are delicious. And then, this is the kind of place where you order champagne to drink throughout the meal, just because. We indulged in tartares and lobster tacos, shishito and edamame, and sushi galore. Whatever specials they were featuring, we ordered them. We were half a dozen women who wanted to try everything! The only thing was, they were going home after dinner, and I was meeting another college friend of mine for a late night out on the Sunset Strip, heading to music clubs and terrace bars galore. It was a long one, but it was my final night in L.A., and I wanted to make it last.

The Restaurant at The Getty Center

1200 Getty Center Drive

Los Angeles, CA  90049

(310) 440.6810

www.getty.edu

The Bazaar by Jose' Andres

465 South La Cienega Boulevard

Los Angeles, CA  90048

(310) 246.5555

www.thebazaar.com/beverly-hills

Sushi Roku

1401 Ocean Ave
Santa Monica, CA 90401
(310) 458.4771
www.innovativedining.com/restaurants/sushiroku 

Koi
730 N. La Cienega Blvd.
West Hollywood, CA  90069
(310) 659.9449
www.koirestaurant.com

Casablanca
220 Lincoln Blvd.
Venice, CA  90291
(310) 392.5751
www.casablancarestaurant.net

QUICK BITE: Delicious Equation: Veg + Nut + Fruit

It's a simple matter of addition: this + this + that = maximum deliciousness. For side dishes -- and increasingly, for vegetable-based dishes that stand on their own, without a protein "main" -- my formula is pretty simple. Just remember this:

Vegetable + Nut + Fruit

That's all. Quite simple. But the way in which you can use your imagination, the colors of the spectrum, the seasons, local ingredients, even items that are only around for a few weeks a year...this is what keeps the formula interesting. And, it's what keeps your palate alive and happy!

This formula always works for a composed salad. The example at left is a mixed greens salad topped with roasted beets (veg), hazelnuts (nut), and roasted grape tomatoes (fruit!). Other favorites include the classic mesclun with walnuts (or pecans...toasted, or candied), blue cheese, and pears or apples. And we can't leave out my Sicilian favorite salad of shaved fennel, blood orange, and olive salad, made better by the addition of almonds or pine nuts. Actually, anybody who knows me (and how eggplant-crazy I am!) knows that my favorite Sicilian ANYthing is caponata, which of course abides by this veg+nut+fruit rule: eggplant and other vegetables married with olives (yes, a fruit) and raisins and pine nuts.Which brings me to another point: any vegetable or vegetable medley made in the Sicilian/Jewish-Italian vein, which almost always includes the originally-Arab pairing of raisins and pine nuts, automatically adheres to the above principal. So, sauteed Roman greens -- chicory or spinach or any kind of bitter or wilted green, served with raisins and pine nuts...check. Fits the equation. That's right: maximum deliciousness. And yes, one of my favorite all-time salads and items of Vietnamese fare, the shredded cabbage-chicken-pomelo salad qualifies, as it's sprinkled with either roasted peanuts or sesame seeds. And damn, is it tasty!

So, an addendum: seeds can be stand-ins for actual nuts. They're usually just as healthy, and can sometimes lend a subtler touch to a dish. So sprinkle in the sesame and sunflower seeds, plop on the pepitas and the poppy seeds -- you'll up the ante on flavor, texture, and nutrition. Those dishes with a riot of color usually contain the most vitamins, minerals, nutrients, antioxidants, and flavor. What's become a real crowd favorite of my dishes? The more exotic and colorful of my creations are gaining in popularity, and with good reason. My Moroccan salad of organic roasted rainbow carrots and beets with Moroccan-spiced vinaigrette, mint, parsley, pomegranate, and nigella seeds is refreshing for summer. And I'm loving charred brussels sprouts with a Persian touch: with pistachios and pomegranate arils tossed in an olive oil and pomegranate molasses glaze. Half the fun is in experimentation. The other half? Eating! (Experimentation + Eating = Tasty Fun).

Class dismissed. Now, go play around in the kitchen and make some delicious veggie dishes to start the summer off on the right (healthy) foot. Happy Memorial Day, everybody! (and buon estate to my lovely Italians!)

RESTAURANT REVIEW: Mistral - Princeton, NJ

I grew up in the area around Princeton, New Jersey -- an ivy league town with mostly bush league restaurants. Princeton excelled (and still does) at good old-fashioned American college grub. Chuck's Spring Street Cafe has always had some of the best buffalo wings on the planet. Hoagie Haven has been the cheap go-to spot for hoagies and cheese steaks and various late-night drunk foods, for decades. And Thomas Sweets is the sentimental favorite for ice cream concoctions. But when it comes to fine dining, there's always been a dearth of destinations, especially considering the fact that Princeton is a top university town, smack between the food metropolises of New York City and Philadelphia, and the community has a lot of wealth. But apparently, not the most exciting palates. 

I'm happy to report that there's been a wonderful addition to Princeton's dining scene, and it's called Mistral. It's not brand new -- it's been open for more than five years now. But that's time enough to prove it's not going anywhere, that it's found a home in this central New Jersey town. The project began as an outgrowth of another local newcomer-hotspot, Elements, which opened in 2008. Executive Chef Scott Anderson is an autodidact who spent part of his youth in Japan and worked in the kitchen of one of New Jersey's top dining destinations, The Ryland Inn. The Chef de Cuisine Ben Nerenhausen also grew up overseas, in Pakistan and Egypt, followed by college in Wisconsin, Culinary school in San Francisco, and a stint as sous chef at the famed Restaurant at Meadowood in Napa, where he met Anderson. The chefs' excellent techniques are apparent, and their food is clearly informed by their time outside the U.S., with heavy Asian (particularly Japanese) and Mediterranean influences on the eclectic menu. 

Atmosphere: The setting here is comfy and somewhat cozy, a cross between ski chalet in B.C. or the Swiss alps and a Japanese mountain spa. Lots of natural materials dominate in wood, slate and stone. There is now an outdoors dining room contained within a walled area with a long and narrow gas fireplace in cooler months. The dishware is mostly a collection of hand-thrown ceramic ware with rustic, earth-toned glazes which perfectly complement the food style. There's an open kitchen in the main dining room, for those who like to watch their meals being created and plated. (Personally, as a chef, I loathe an open kitchen, so I tend not to watch out of sympathy for the chefs working).

Food and drink: As stated, the dishes run the gamut from Mediterranean influences (Italian, Moroccan, Spanish, French, and Middle Eastern) to Asian (Japanese predominantly, but sometimes Korean, Thai, and Indian flavors find their way onto the menu). These are plates mostly made for sharing -- not in a "small plates restaurant" kind of way that can bug me beyond belief, but in an "I need to try all of these dishes" kind of way -- and the result is a meal that feels interactive. As my Dad says after each visit, "It's a really fun way to eat dinner!": to the point, and I agree. Mistral used to be a BYO establishment, but now they have a small but interesting wine, beer, and cocktail list...and a new bar next door, to boot (something that's very exciting for the sleepy, decidedly un-hopping bar scene in this college town).

The food is too varied to explain it simply, or to do it justice, and the menu changes seasonally and is constantly evolving, so what I highlight here may not be available again. But I will say that far more dishes are hits than are misses (and the misses are never failures, they're just perhaps not as interesting or exciting as I might have hoped given my high standards for the place). So herewith, a collection of the eclectic dishes I've enjoyed at Mistral...
  

Falafel salad, black sesame, sprouted grains, carrots.

Charred squid, green curry, coconut, peanuts, puffed rice.

Roasted sweetbreads, gnocchi, corn, chanterelles, black truffle.

 
Charred hanger steak, beets, bone marrow, dried currants.

Cornmeal bucatini, shrimp sausage, egg, and herbs.







 

Short rib, scallions, sticky rice.















I've always been so eager to try so many dishes that I've never had room for dessert! Servers bring a plate of brown butter biscotti with the bill, and you can always wander just around the corner to the Halo Pub for some old-fashioned ice cream.
 
MISTRAL
66 Witherspoon Street
Princeton, NJ  08542
609.688.8808
http://www.mistralprinceton.com/

HOLIDAYS: Passover + Pesce en Saor Recipe

Venice: La Serenissima, the only city in the world with streets of water, where we're made to slow down the pace. It's home to delicious seafood and fresh veggies pulled from and grown in the briny waters of the lagoon. And, it's the birthplace of the term ghetto (based on the Venetian dialect term for foundry, original site of the neighborhood that became the ghetto...also gettare in Italian means to toss aside, throw out, which is essentially what happened to the Venetian Jews). This ghetto was created for Jews in the 16th century and has morphed into terminology for an area into which a specific ethnic or racial group is pushed, isolated. This original ghetto separated the Jews from the rest of the Venetian population, but it also allowed, on some level, for the city's Jewish population to insulate itself and strengthen its traditions, though perhaps not into a singular Venetian Jewish community -- as evidenced by the five different diminutive synagogues in the neighborhood, catering to Italian, German, Levantine, Portuguese-Spanish, and French Jews practicing in Venice. 

Venice was truly a city at the crossroads of the spice trade and was the hub of trade routes between the east and the west for centuries before the ghetto was created. Jews were a vibrant and integral part of trade and banking for centuries in the middle ages and early Renaissance, and then once the Inquisition started driving Jews out of Spain and Portugal, many settled in Venice, and its Jewish population grew. So, on March 29th, 1516, the Venetian Jewish ghetto was established, more or less to keep the Jews "in check." Their movement about the city was limited and there were curfews set in the evenings, as entry points on the water were blocked and guarded by Venetian security men in boats. And while this was certainly oppressive and limiting, Jewish cuisine in Venice still flourished. So much of what we think of simply as "Venetian food" or "Roman specialties" or "Sicilian cuisine" originated in the kitchen of Jewish Italians. Artichokes, eggplant, and squash and pumpkins are all examples of food items that were not eaten by non-Jews, even up until the 19th century in many cases. Now it's difficult to imagine Italian cuisine without these items.

One of the signature flavor profiles of typically Jewish-Italian dishes is the element of sweet and sour, or agrodolce, in Italian. This comes from the pairing of vinegar and sugar (and honey well before sugar was widely available in Europe). The use of vinegar to preserve food is a classically Jewish one, because no work is allowed to be done on the sabbath, so all the food for sabbath meals needs to be prepared in advance -- and so the dishes are often served cool or at room temperature, having been cooked the day before. This happy coincidence allows for the flavors to develop, resulting in an even-more-delicious dish eaten a day or two after it was prepared. The sugar added to the vinegar is simply to cut the acidity of the vinegar (or citrus juice, or wine). Pesce en saor is Venice's shining example of a practically-conceived dish in the Jewish cuisine canon, going mainstream (pun intended). 

This dish is often made with sardines and called sarde en saor -- it's on most Venetian trattoria menus -- but it can be made with any fish fillets, really, though more oily fish like Spanish mackerel are suited to the sweet-and-sour preparation (they're also good for you, with lots of Omega-3s). A typical pairing would be with polenta, soft if you're making it and serving right away, or made a day in advance, cut into squares, and either served cold or grilled before serving. The addition of carrots and celery is optional, as is the choice of red or white onions. But the raisins and pine nuts are key to matching the sweet and sour flavors of the dish, and add texture and interest. it's the perfect make-ahead dish for Passover, and serves as an interesting substitute for gefilte fish on the American/Ashkenazi Passover table. Try it this year -- you may do as the Venetians have done, and incorporate the dish into your personal repertoire of favorites. HAPPY PASSOVER!

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PESCE EN SAOR

(6 servings)

1 whole fish (about 2 pounds), cleaned, or 1.5 pounds fish fillets -- Spanish mackerel is a nice choice

½ cup red wine vinegar

3 tbs. sugar

1 onion, thinly sliced into half moons

2 small carrots, thinly sliced into a thick julienne or shavings

1 celery stalk, sliced into thin Vs

½ cup toasted pine nuts

½ cup raisins, plumped in hot water

6 tbs. extra-virgin olive oil

salt & pepper to taste

- In a small bowl, stir together vinegar, sugar, pine nuts, and a little of the raisin plumping water. Set aside.

- Warm 2 tbs. of the olive oil in a large saute’ pan over medum heat. Sprinkle the fish with salt just before placing it in the saute’ pan. Saute’ until golden brown. Flip and brown on the other side.

- Remove fish from pan, add 2 more tbs. olive oil, and saute the onions and carrots an celery in the pan until softened, about 4 minutes.

- Add the vinegar mixture, cover, and cook over medium heat until the fish is done – about 10 minutes for a whole fish and 5 minutes for fillets.

- Transfer to a platter and serve warm or, better yet, the next day at room temperature.

* This dish pairs really well with polenta squares, grilled or pan-seared.

RECIPE BY REQUEST: Persian Chicken

 

"Chicken is just soooo good!" That's one of my father's favorite phrases, and he means it in quite general terms. To his palate, there are few things more tasty, more versatile, or more deliciously restorative than some kind of dish featuring chicken on the bone. He's right -- and this makes chicken a great dinner idea for home cooks around the world. 

Besides crowd-pleasers like simple roast chicken or rotisserie chicken (billion dollar businesses are built on the deliciousness of these simple staples), there are dishes from all cultures and all cuisines that feature chicken on the bone. Think American Southern buttermilk fried chicken and Korean fried chicken, Peruvian grilled chicken and the spicy piri-piri chicken of Africa and Portugal, chicken cacciatore from Italy and coq au vin from France. There's chicken paprikash from Hungary and jerk chicken from Jamaica, chicken in the tagines of Morocco and the paellas of Spain, tandoori chicken in India. There are the chicken curries in Thailand, chicken rice in Singapore, chicken adobo in the Philippines, and caramel chicken in Vietnam. And we haven't even gotten to all the preparations and variations on chicken wings! It's head-spinning to think about the versatility of this poultry. 

But out of all the lip-smackingly tempting preparations out there for chicken, one of my favorites is standard fare in the Persian cooking canon. I call it simply Persian Chicken, though its name is actually Khoresht Fesenjan, and it's chicken on the bone, stewed until tender with a sauce of walnuts, spices, and pomegranate molasses, finished with fresh pomegranate. The recipe is thought to have originated with duck in ancient Persia, which might possibly be the only more-delicious way to enjoy this sauce. I could bathe in this sauce. It's incredibly scrumptious: it's got texture, it's sour and sweet and aromatically spiced, with the brightness of the fresh pomegranate arils and layers of flavor. I like to add lots of chopped parsley at the end and just a squeeze of fresh lemon, to brighten it as it all comes together. 

I've made this dish for Passover seders in the past and my clients have loved it. Some have asked for the recipe -- hence, I'm obliging with this "Recipe By Request." It's easy to prepare as kosher for the holiday, and it adds a bit of Sephardic flavor to brighten up the usual brisket-and-matzo-ball-soup menus that are so popular among American Ashkenazi Jews. So, try making Persian chicken this Passover, or try it any time of the year when you can get your hands on fresh pomegranate. I think it'll become a favorite under the "CHICKEN" heading in your recipe files! 

PERSIAN CHICKEN

Cook time

1 hour 30 mins

Serves: 2-4

Ingredients

• 1 whole chicken cut into 8-10 pieces 
• 3 TBS olive oil or vegetable oil or ghee (clarified butter)
• 8 ounces walnut halves, toasted and chopped into 1/4" pieces
• 1 large yellow onion, sliced thin in half moons
• 1 tsp. turmeric
• 1/2 tsp. ground cardamom
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
• 1 cup pomegranate molasses/concentrate
• 1 cup chicken broth
• kosher salt
• ⅛ tsp freshly cracked black pepper
• 1/2 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley
• 1 cup pomegranate seeds for garnish
• squeeze of fresh lemon

Instructions

1. Heat the oil in a wide, heavy-bottomed pan and sear the chicken pieces on all sides until browned; remove from pan.
2. Add the sliced onions to the pan and saute with 3-4 TBSP vegetable oil in a 6-Qt stockpot until golden.
3. Add the ground spices and stir for 30 seconds until heated through with the onions.
4. Add the chopped/ground walnuts and stir to coat.
5. Add the pomegranate molasses and stir.
6. Add the chicken broth and stir to mix.
7. Add chicken to the pot, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and bring the chicken and the sauce to a boil over medium-high heat. 
8. Once boiling, turn the heat down to medium-low, cover, and cook for about 45 minutes. Stir every 15 minutes to avoid the sauce sticking to the bottom of the pot. Cook until the sauce is thickened and the chicken is fork tender and falls off the bone.
9. Transfer the chicken to a serving dish and stir the parsley into the sauce. Taste and adjust for salt and seasoning. 
10. Sprinkle some pomegranate seeds on top as garnish.
11. Serve over white Persian steamed rice. 

SEASONAL FOOD: Agretti

They're not center-stage like artichokes are in and around Rome. But when I see those bright green, grassy bunches of agretti in the markets, I know it's springtime again in The Eternal City. Known in English as saltwort or friar’s beard, or barilla plant – or “land seaweed”, in Japan – agretti can cause stampedes in the markets of central Italy as locals make a run for the bunches of crunchy, grass-like leaves. A Mediterranean native, agretti (Salsola soda, in Latin) were first cultivated as a source of soda ash, which plays a key role in glass and soap making (and an important element in Murano's famous glass-blowing tradition for the wine goblets and chandeliers of the grand Venetian palaces). Then as alternative methods of extracting soda ash were discovered in the 19th century, agretti entered the culinary realm to become a seasonal niche food among peasants in Lazio and Umbria, central Italy.

Saltwort is a succulent shrub and a halophyte -- a salt-tolerant plant -- native to the Mediterranean basin, and can be irrigated with saltwater or fresh. Agretti are harvested in bunches when small, or cropped to encourage new growth among mature plants. Most commonly, they're lightly boiled and then served warm, room temp, or cold -- with some olive oil and lemon. Much like samphire, or sea asparagus (asparagi di mare), they shouldn't be overcooked, so that some crunch remains to the green.

In flavor, agretti are somewhat comparable to spinach, but livelier and with a slightly more verdant bite, half way to chives, without the onion-y, allium aftertaste. They can be eaten raw as well, and can also be used almost like an herb, as chives might be. 

Romans love their greens, so like the ubiquitous and delicious cicoria (chicory leaves) in cooler months and other springtime specialties like wild asparagus, agretti can be spotted from markets to trattorie to the most refined ristoranti in Italy's capital city, and outside in the hills of Lazio. As for pairings, agretti are excellent mixed with eggs, in springtime frittate with other spring veggies like fava beans and fresh peas. Of course, the classic Italian way to utilize any fresh, seasonal item at the market is to either A.) saute it in a pan with a little garlic and olive oil, and a squeeze of lemon, or 2.) toss it with some pasta (and a little garlic and olive oil). So yes, agretti pasta is always a good idea (plus, the name: "spaghetti con agretti": fabulous). It's an easy, mistake-free way to use agretti when you find them. But outside of Rome/Lazio and central Italy, that may be your biggest challenge: finding agretti. In bocca al lupo (good luck), and keep your eyes peeled!