At Los Angeles’s Sona restaurant, David Myers retools French cuisine with an infusion of global ingredients. He worked for chefs Charlie Trotter and Daniel Boulud before his move to L.A. to work at Patina. This summer he delves into the straight-up traditional French brasserie concept with the opening of Comme Ça in West Hollywood.
How would you categorize your approach to cooking?
Completely jazzlike, where the only rule is that there are no rules. We follow the rules on cooking, like how you cook a piece of meat, but from there we completely play.
How has travel influenced your cooking?
I just got back from Tokyo, where I had this unbelievable octopus. I found out they cook it with daikon, and it was so tender. The daikon, apparently, has an enzyme that helps break down the fibers in octopus just like butter.What dish prompts the most questions from customers?
What we get a lot about right now is our wild king salmon. It’s not so much what’s in it, but, Why does it look like this? How is it cooked? And many chefs are doing this—I certainly didn’t create it. We slow-cook this piece of salmon for like 25 minutes in the oven. It never changes the color of the salmon—it still looks raw, but you lay a fork on top of it and it breaks apart, it’s so tender. Then we glaze it with Vietnamese caramel.
Which ingredients are you exploring?
There are so many products in Japan, you just can’t even imagine. And I’m just learning about them, like kelp that is dry but when you put it on your tongue, it liquefies. In Thailand, different types of chilies and herbs I haven’t used.
How have you adapted your improvisational style to the private events you’ve cooked for while still retaining an edge?
It’s an entirely different ball game. We’re able to have a little bit of improv style by adding one or two elements that aren’t listed on the menu. But the core ingredients, such as whether it’s a beef or a fish with some sort of a starch, those things are set. Maybe we add an additional sauce on there that we didn’t list.
What was the biggest event you’ve cooked for?
Eight hundred people in Switzerland. It was a cocktail party, and we did 30 different dishes. It was an event for a company celebrating its 10-year anniversary. The founder had flown out his entire team, all 800 people. It was a blast. But it was definitely very intense. I slept four hours in four days.
What was the last meal you had at an event?
They had canapés, and they had a buffet, and it was prime rib with fresh ramps and green peppercorn and then line-caught cod and various cheeses and prosciuttos. It was out-of-this-world amazing. It was a friend of mine who was getting married in New York and the food was just insane, absolutely awesome—shockingly so.
What are your expectations when you go to an event?
I don’t have any. I have very rarely had a great experience at one of those things. It’s almost like a given sometimes that people don’t want to make it great.
Any advice for doing it right?
Some clients don’t want [inventive food]. So it really comes down to the right clients, as well as the right people executing it. I say it’s time to make a change.
How would you categorize your approach to cooking?
Completely jazzlike, where the only rule is that there are no rules. We follow the rules on cooking, like how you cook a piece of meat, but from there we completely play.
How has travel influenced your cooking?
I just got back from Tokyo, where I had this unbelievable octopus. I found out they cook it with daikon, and it was so tender. The daikon, apparently, has an enzyme that helps break down the fibers in octopus just like butter.What dish prompts the most questions from customers?
What we get a lot about right now is our wild king salmon. It’s not so much what’s in it, but, Why does it look like this? How is it cooked? And many chefs are doing this—I certainly didn’t create it. We slow-cook this piece of salmon for like 25 minutes in the oven. It never changes the color of the salmon—it still looks raw, but you lay a fork on top of it and it breaks apart, it’s so tender. Then we glaze it with Vietnamese caramel.
Which ingredients are you exploring?
There are so many products in Japan, you just can’t even imagine. And I’m just learning about them, like kelp that is dry but when you put it on your tongue, it liquefies. In Thailand, different types of chilies and herbs I haven’t used.
How have you adapted your improvisational style to the private events you’ve cooked for while still retaining an edge?
It’s an entirely different ball game. We’re able to have a little bit of improv style by adding one or two elements that aren’t listed on the menu. But the core ingredients, such as whether it’s a beef or a fish with some sort of a starch, those things are set. Maybe we add an additional sauce on there that we didn’t list.
What was the biggest event you’ve cooked for?
Eight hundred people in Switzerland. It was a cocktail party, and we did 30 different dishes. It was an event for a company celebrating its 10-year anniversary. The founder had flown out his entire team, all 800 people. It was a blast. But it was definitely very intense. I slept four hours in four days.
What was the last meal you had at an event?
They had canapés, and they had a buffet, and it was prime rib with fresh ramps and green peppercorn and then line-caught cod and various cheeses and prosciuttos. It was out-of-this-world amazing. It was a friend of mine who was getting married in New York and the food was just insane, absolutely awesome—shockingly so.
What are your expectations when you go to an event?
I don’t have any. I have very rarely had a great experience at one of those things. It’s almost like a given sometimes that people don’t want to make it great.
Any advice for doing it right?
Some clients don’t want [inventive food]. So it really comes down to the right clients, as well as the right people executing it. I say it’s time to make a change.
Photo: Nicole Ely for BizBash
Photo: Nicole Ely for BizBash
Photo: Nicole Ely for BizBash