Jack's La Jolla - Ocean Room

There are times, especially in San Diego, when like children at dusk, we find ourselves reluctant to end the day’s adventures to go inside for dinner. Perhaps for this reason, Jack’s Ocean Room offers a playfully elegant atmosphere and an adventurous dining experience that proves dinner need not put an end to the day’s fun.

From the street, Jack’s La Jolla seems like a miniature empire. Three floors house three separate restaurants, four bars and a sidewalk café. The casual Jack’s Grille spans the bottom floor, while a formal Jack’s Dining Room graces the second. Located on the top floor of Jack’s, the Ocean Room blurs the line between the two, offering a trendy space and a unique way to sample fine dining.

The glass steps leading up to the Ocean Room provide the first hint that the restaurant defies distinction. Transparent and leaning out over the sidewalk, they toe the line between indoors and out. Following suit is the noticeably absent outer wall, which is replaced by a row of open-air cabanas sheltered by a retractable awning. Powerful heaters line the ceiling, which on the night of our visit allowed the cool breeze to mingle with radiant heat.

Seated in a couch-like booth in one of the cabanas, we heeded our server’s recommendation to start with a crisp and fruity Bouvet Brut Rose from the Loire Valley, which Jack’s just began serving by the glass. The bubbly aperitif aptly set a playful mood, and as the bubbles danced over our tongues, we sat back to take in the atmosphere.

The presence of the Pacific, visible in the distance, is reflected in the cool blue and silver tones that weave through the cabanas. Further into the restaurant, earthy browns and taupes take over, creating the effect of land meeting sea. Bold lines, vibrant colors, and an emphasis on textures shape the restaurant’s modern ambiance. Playful touches, like using placemats in lieu of tablecloths, impart a casual elegance, while details such as vibrant wood and sparkling fabrics provide a hint of formality.

The menu, as with the atmosphere, playfully bends the rules. Minimalist in presentation, it toys with the roles of chef and diner, deconstructing dishes so that diners must piece them together themselves. Main courses—mainly seafood and steak—are listed separately from sauces and sides, giving diners an unusual amount of freedom to decide what their meal will consist of.

In addition to the regular menu, the Ocean Room offers a daily sushi menu, under the aegis of Sushi Chef Takeshi Okada. Okada, who joined Jacks after 12 years at San Diego’s Sushi Ota, is talented, passionate, and wildly creative, and his sometimes exotic creations reflect this. While his California rolls are raved about, we opted to try a selection of nigiri—delicate slices of fish served atop balls of sushi rice. A platter arrived, garnished with roasted ginko nuts and green tea salt as well as traditional wasabi and pickled ginger. Atop it sat four pairs of nigiri: pink marbled toro, silvery and smoky mackerel, glistening and sheer local lobster, and kurodai, which had been flown in from Japan that morning. We indulged in glasses of Junmai Daiginjo, a premium sake made from strictly milled rice. Its superiority was reflected in its clarity and smoothness, which proved an excellent accompaniment to Chef Okada’s sushi.

The Ocean Room also offers a more traditional selection of fresh seafood appetizers, including Jumbo Shrimp Cocktail, Alaskan King Crab Legs, and a daily selection of oysters. For those unable to make up their mind, there is Jack’s Seafood Platter, a generous combination of all three. The towering platter, which could easily serve a table of six, was accompanied by a trio of garnishes: delicate shavings of mild horseradish, a feisty cocktail sauce, and a complex vinegar sauce. We savored the subtle variety of seafood along with glasses of Reverdy Sancerre, which was light bodied and crisp with a great finish.

After two delightfully decadent appetizers, we opted to forgo the salad course, although the Ocean Room offers options ranging from a hearty Italian Cobb to a light Organic Mesclun Greens. From a generous selection of steaks often not found outside steakhouses, my date ordered a 12 oz. Prime New York steak. I chose local swordfish from a slightly less extensive seafood selection. Both were delivered in a starkly minimalist fashion, alone atop a massive white plate, unadorned save for grill marks. The effect was astounding—momentary shock at the seemingly unfinished dishes turned to delight as we realized our plates were ripe with creativity. As our side dishes and sauces were placed on the table, each in its own dish, I felt we had just been handed a blank canvas and a palette of options.

We immediately set to work, well, playing with our food: scooping up spoonfuls of sides and sauces and coloring our plates with an array of textures. The side dishes ranged from simple and healthy to complex and decadent. At the more benign end was Sautéed Broccolini, which was crisp and refreshing with a slight hint of garlic. Veering into complexity was the feisty Corn, Bacon and Chilies, featuring corn that is roasted in-husk, then sautéed with bacon and roasted poblanos to create a wonderful concoction of intense flavor. Then there was the irresistibly decadent: the brilliant Blue Cheese Bread Pudding, with sublimely integrated flavors; and Roasted Garlic Gratin, an equally decadent dish with satisfyingly contrasting elements.

After sampling our side dishes, we turned toward the sauces, but not first without trying the foundation of our meals. My fork glided effortlessly through my swordfish, which was delicate and moist. My date’s medium rare steak was succulent, barely requiring flavorful accompaniments. Each sauce was a loud expression of flavor, so rich and unique that it defined what it adorned. The Soy Caramel Jus, buttery and sweet enough to accompany a dessert, provided a drastically different swordfish than did the Red Wine Reduction, which in capturing the rich essence of a bold port was more bitter than sweet. Asian influenced sauces such as the Mustard Miso, Housemade Steak Sauce, and Ginger, Sesame, Soy created a very different steak than one dipped in French-based Béarnaise.

Diligently determined to find our favorite, we happily dipped and drizzled across our now colorful plates. After exhausting our taste buds, we both agreed with our server’s recommendation that the Soy Caramel Jus was ideal with the Swordfish, and that the Housemade Steak Sauce was the best accompaniment to the New York Steak. Content, I paused to relish my William Fevre Chablis from Champs Royaux, which was bright and structured with hints of citrus; my date savored his Summa Cabernet Syrah Estate Blend, medium bodied with hints of raisin and orange.

While delightfully satisfied, we could not pass up dessert. Here, as on the rest of the menu, playful creativity shined. The warm chocolate cake was a study on contrast, with a bittersweet cake giving way to lava-like center of sweet melted chocolate. The Passion fruit Crème Brule was a delightfully unique surprise, a twist on the traditional that was both sour and sweet at the same time.

As we finished our meal with a dessert wine from Bordeaux, it struck me how unique our dining experience had been. While relaxing on couches in an outdoor cabana, we received the formal service of a fine restaurant. We had started our meal with sushi, and were concluding it with a delicately complex French wine. We had been faced with the almost daunting task of creating our own dishes, yet in taking part in the culinary process found ourselves satisfied by a wonderfully varied meal.