The Knife

This is what a $14 piece of toro sushi looks like: Takami

This is the view from the outdoor patio at Takami, a very attractive new sushi and robata restaurant located on the 21st floor of 811 Wilshire in downtown L.A. And this is where we got the bill for the "M.P." toro sushi and discovered it was $14 per piece, or $28 per order. (A two-piece order of toro sashimi is $58.)

To be clear: No blame to our server, who was lovely and pro. "M.P." was clearly marked on the menu. And while I agree with restauranteur Danny Meyer's assertion that "M.P." really means “Either a restaurant changes its menu infrequently or they’re not interested in telling you what the price is.” -- well, at least the definition is consistent.

Still. That's $14 for one piece of tuna belly sushi. One small piece, less than 2" long and perhaps 3/4" wide, cut thinly enough for me to notice that the kitchen scores each piece on the diagonal, allowing the fish to drape more attractively and giving it the illusion of being thicker. Then all was forgotten  -- it was delicious -- until we got the bill.

Or am I being unfair? Up next:  The market price for toro, as defined by other sushi restaurants.

Takami, 811 Wilshire Blvd. (213) 236-9600

Noise-O-Meter: 68-72 dBs, even with the proto-disco music piped onto the patio

Tapped out on tapas? Not Tinto.

The tapas craze peaked about two years ago, about the same time restaurants began trotting out "small plates." That phrase now has the same hoary patina as "restaurant-lounge," which is probably why we've come full circle with the tradition-minded Tinto. Chef Justo Vincent says he worked with Ferran Adria of El Bulli, not that you'll be seeing any alginates on this menu; these are simple plates of shrimp sauteed with garlic, cheese boards with quince paste, sauteed mushrooms and small tenderloins of beef on a bed of caramelized peppers. There's a nice Spanish wine list; the brick-arched room looks like it might have been exported from a Barcelona side street. That said, the waitstaff's Zorro-ish uniforms are a little corny and the small menu suggests that the kitchen's challenge will be continuing to entertain Americans' ADD-addled palates.

Tinto, 7511 Santa Monica Blvd. (323) 512-5095

NOISE-O-METER: a civilized 68-74 dBs

11 Reasons Why The Bowery is a Good But Imperfect Option After the Arclight

1. Pressed-tin ceilings, white-tiled walls, black-leather barstools.
2. Excellent hamburgers and homemade onion rings.
3. An eat/drink bar where they're genuinely happy to have you do either or both.
4. Oversized windows open to the street.
5. Wine/beer lists are short but sweet.
6. Pabst Blue Ribbon in the can. If you feel like showing off.
7. It's loud. 78-83 dBs.
8. The kitchen's open until midnight.
9. Whole-leaf Caesar salad.
10. Balky kitchen. Mussels can be delicious. Or they can contain a bizarre excess of saffron, the shells trapping saffron stamen like so much seaweed and turning the broth a disturbing, vivid orange. Tasted harsh and must have killed food costs for the night.
11. You'll never get in at Hungry Cat.

The Bowery, 6268 Sunset Blvd. (323) 465-3400

Noisy Restaurant Report: Digital dining

It seems people are keen on the whole Digital Sound Level Meter idea. I've gotten a few comments with suggestions for which restaurants my meter and I should visit, but I'd like a lot more. Suggestions, that is.

So: What restaurants leave you deaf, or wishing you were? Where's a place that you think of as the perfect balance of bustle and calm? Tell me, by email or through comments. I'm drawing up a list of places to take my meter out to eat.

Noisy Restaurant Report: Pizzeria Mozza is a factory

Life on Pizzeria Mozza's pizza assembly line.

That's not me passing judgment. That's according to the chart provided by Paul Tipler's Physics for Scientists and Engineers (Third Ed.).

My sound level meter measured the decibels surrounding lunch at Pizzeria Mozza this afternoon, from about 12:15 pm to a little after 1 pm. When I sat down at the bar (no reservation), the restaurant was half-full; when I left, there wasn't an empty seat and people were loitering in the foyer. During that period, sound levels ranged between 78 dB-84 dB, and hovered around 80 dB-81 dB -- the same level as an average factory. (Or, as another chart put it, a garbage disposal from three feet away.)

As comparison, the Variety newsroom runs about 50 dB. Facing Highland Avenue, by Mozza's valet stand: 68 dB-70 dB.

Noisy restaurants, we can hear you

This morning, I'm picking up my new restaurant companion: A digital-display sound-level meter. It measures decibels, or noise levels. And, as Ms. Virbilia pointed out in the LA Times' Daily Dish last week, restaurants have a lot of them.

But just how much? As much as a vacuum cleaner (about 70 dBs)? A chainsaw (110 dBs)? Does anyone approach the threshold of pain (140 dBs and up)?

Don't know. Can't wait to find out.