So, I followed the Seafood hype and swiped right, because if you don't go, you won't know. I went. Was it truly great ink or just so much Squid Ink to mask what should've stayed in the sink? You decide.
The streets got narrower and narrower as I drew near, until only a Smart Car or a Donkey cart could squeeze through the throng and the lane. Parking's a pain. Next door there is "Public Parking" owned by the Mob. Park All Day for ___________(no dollar amount) the signs said in large font. Hand the Fob to the kid who says $35 with a smile and without shame.
Note: There is State Beach Parking for $7 but that requires an Uber back to the restaurant. A Bird's the word for the wise.
There are plenty of tables outside if you enjoy the offshore breeze gusting to Force 50 gale strength. Secure your Strollers and your babies.
So, it's inside to the Communal Table for 10 new besties, the Bar seats only 10 too and those seats have been occupied since the place opened. There are 7 2/4 tops sprinkled around. Good luck.
Note: Be prepared for a long wait as no one seems to be in a hurry to scurry.
Enjoy the Caribbean Hip Hop, if that's possible, as it pounds through the speakers. The DJ scratched loop takes on the sound of an amplified bowel obstruction after a few minutes. Perfect for dignified dining, no? Enjoy.
The Decor: Funky 30's Beach Shack. Grungy Chic, one Wall-a Bottles, an open kitchen obscured by inked inscriptions on a wall placed there by inked patrons on an upended blender bender.
Who's there? Good Sports in Board shorts, drunks and hunks, as well as an assortment of odd sorts. What else? It's Venice Beach.
The Staff: Sparkling, toothy, friendly, and going at full Beach speed. All the boys and girls have that Milan Fashion week sway, swagger and figure, but they know their stuff and how to feed you until you're stuffed.
The Bar: Craft Beer here plus a curated Wine List larger than the Restaurant itself.
Order by color. My Orange Sparkling Rose was pretty damn good, whatever it was as no one knew. Let's call is Rose Ave Rose.
The Food: The Burger looked epic and so did the Fries as they both passed by. But the walls had pictures of Fish, not Cows, and I wanted Seafood dammit.
A dozen Oysters showed up. The Kumais were little guys. The Chingons were gone quick as they were smaller than their Baja Brothers. Lime and Horseradish Mignonette were along for the ride. No Vibrio for this Bro as they were all fresh, briny and a lively slurp and burp opener.
The Ikura were some Salmon Eggs topped with a puny Uni, Wasabi and Daddy's Salsa, the ingredients of which no one really knew. Scoop a bite (one of three you'll get) onto a Nori Sheet no bigger than a Wonton. This was an Amuse Bouche sized dish. If you tweeze up the Salmon Eggs one at a time you might fool yourself into thinking you'd eaten a lot. You didn't. Was it good? Yup, it was. Isn't anything that's good fleeting and gone in a flash?
The Two Shrimp Tacos with Cajun Spices, the ingredients of which no one knew, Cabbage, Creme Fraiche, Cotija Cheese, Pickled Red Onion slivers, and more Daddy's Salsa on a Flour Tortilla was basically Party Food.
The Rock Fish Tacos had Cabbage, Creme Fraiche, Cotija Cheese, pickled Red Onion slivers, and Daddy's Salsa. Both the tacos were essentially the same with interchangeable parts.
Were they delicioso? Nope, candidly just so, so.
Overall this is a neighborhood joint filled with neighbors. (Nope, no joint jokes). This is not intimate dining. A first date spot? Only if you want to get a headache or bowel obstruction after the Oysters, study for the Bar in Greenland, forgot to feed your new Pound Puppy, etc.
Dudley's tries to do right, and for the most part, they did right despite the local's claim that it's really their surf and turf. read more