RVR

If you thought the days of disemvoweled brand names were over, think again, because RVR—chef Travis Lett's follow-up to MTN on Abbot Kinney (in the same spot)—is here to stay, or so we hope. The California-influenced izakaya marks Lett's return to L.A. after what can only be described as a hero's journey.

If you know Gjelina, you know Lett. He was the co-founding chef in 2008, and was hugely responsible for making Angelenos crazy for California's seasonality and produce. In 2017, MTN opened down the street from Gjelina (as part of the same restaurant group), drawing Gjelina's clientele and the praise of Jonathan Gold. But after Lett sold his stake in the company in 2019, MTN's Japanese-inspired menu couldn't survive the pandemic and his departure.

Fans were eager to see what Lett would do next—a project in the former Johnny's Pastrami spot on West Adams was in the works for a bit, but nothing ever came of it. Instead, Lett took a leave of absence from L.A., spending time in Big Sur, contemplating farming and practicing mixed martial arts, before quietly coming back to the iconic thoroughfare that catapulted his chefdom and opening RVR (pronounced "river"). Apparently, after one has climbed the MTN, one finds the RVR. 

The vibe: Moody and mysterious. Whole lotta dark wood happening here—from the handful of booths to the bar that gives you a view into the busy kitchen to the window counter seating overlooking Abbot Kinney for top-notch people watching. At the communal table, diners can size up their neighbors’ dishes, with the more friendly occasionally offering up a bite. A DJ spins vinyl nightly, and it gets loud enough to warrant earplugs. If you're here on a date, or want to have an easy conversation, opt for the heated upstairs patio.

The food: Hand rolls are made with precision and creativity—the kanpachi sings. Rotating sashimi preparations put the freshest possible fish on display. The vegetable section is deep and worth exploring fully, but don't skip the lettuces, tossed in a delicate green goddess dressing with basil, shiso, sunflower, and nori furikake. Then there's charcoal-grilled duck meatballs with wasabi mustard; crispy chicken thigh karaage with chili honey; pork rib and belly gyoza—just a few of my favorite dishes (and a small portion of the menu). The ramen’s slurp-worthy, too—the pork and chicken broth is not the least bit heavy or greasy, the noodles are organic and homemade, and the crispy pork belly is just the right amount of fatty and smoky. What makes RVR a great repeat restaurant is identifying what’s new on the menu. On my most recent visit, chicken liver on milk bread speckled with pickled ginger made my liver-hating dinner guest a believer. 

For dessert, we yearn for the original chocolate cake from when RVR opened, though every subsequent iteration has proven to be a worthy-enough successor. These days, nothing manages to outshine the matcha stracciatella and black sesame gelato. 

The drink: The gingery, citrusy, effervescent house tonic made with quina quina bark is a non-alcoholic option that gives RVR's cocktails a run for their money, though I love the boozy penicillin, which adds mezcal to the mix. An izakaya is only as strong as its drinks, and all the libations here measure up. If you’re looking for some obscure sake and wine options, have a chat with wine director Maggie Glasheen, who has many off-menu delights waiting to be poured. 

Time Out tip: Anytime you see mackerel on the menu, order it. Executive chef Ian Robinson has a love affair with saba and it’s infectious.