Providence (*, Green Star)

First off, a quick disclaimer: all my photos have been edited in Snapseed to brighten them up. Dining solo at Providence is a blast, but the bar lighting isn’t exactly camera-friendly when it comes to the food.

When I saw that Providence had received its well-deserved third Michelin star on Wednesday night, I immediately checked OpenTable to see if any solo seats were available for Thursday dinner. And I lucked out.

When I arrived to confirm my reservation, I was greeted by Donato Poto at the reception desk—he had a record of my first meal at Providence back in November 2008. The fact that they keep such detailed records is just so impressive to me. I also let him know that my printed menu from that meal is framed and hangs above my dining table, alongside others I’ve collected over the years. I was seated at the far-left end of the bar, which is actually a prime spot if you enjoy socializing with the staff and catching some of the action. Lots of familiar faces from past visits—Kim behind the bar, and Martin, who just might be my favorite FOH person in the entire world. The staff were in exceptionally good spirits, and the overall tone of the night was playful, joyous, and full of gratitude.

Now, onto the food:
I went with the standard tasting menu and chose duck as my main. The canapés kicked things off and were excellent: a tuna tartlet with caviar, a hash brown with uni butter, a crispy cylinder of smoked salmon, and some truffled beef tartare. After biting into the hash brown, I must’ve let out an audible moan—Tim, the amazing sommelier, came over and commented on it. I also have to say that my banter with Tim was one of the undisputed highlights of the evening. He’s absolutely charming and hilarious.

The first official course was a warm composed oyster dish with a delicate blend of aromatics, followed by sashimi in a fragrant herbal broth, served with perfectly ripe sungold tomatoes.

Next was one of their signature dishes: the salt-roasted Santa Barbara spot prawn. The aroma alone—rosemary and hot salt—is intoxicating. The prawn is bisected and served simply with olive oil and lemon juice. A masterclass in simplicity and technique using pristine ingredients. Always a delight.

Then came a tartlet of pressure-cooked abalone in dashi with squash—tender, sweet, and full of umami. This was followed by a scallop with XO sauce and carrot presented as both purée and dehydrated. I’m pretty sure I let out another involuntary sound of joy with this one. I didn’t want it to end—elegant and decadent in the best possible way.

The first of the two mains was striped bass in a vadouvan sauce, paired with eggplant prepared a few different ways. This dish, along with the scallop, reflected the flavor profiles I’ve come to love at Providence—bold, yet refined. The second main was the duck I had selected. Although Providence is known for seafood, their red meat dishes are consistently excellent. The duck was perfectly cooked with rendered, crispy skin, complemented by a cherry jus and a small cylinder of duck sausage.

I hadn’t seen a proper cheese cart at a fine dining restaurant in a while. Providence used to roll out a large trolley with a wide selection, though that’s no longer the case. However, two cheese courses were offered tonight: a truffled Brie and a 24-year-aged Comté. I chose the Comté, which came with rooftop-harvested honey, mulberry jam, and shaved black truffle. A real treat.

Then came the sweets: a peach sorbet with red shiso granita as a refreshing intermezzo, followed by a main dessert showcasing their house-processed chocolate, rich, balanced, and satisfying. A final plate of mignardises came with the bill, alongside their customary chocolate tea.

I left feeling like a million bucks. As I mentioned to one of the staff, the food itself is ephemeral, but the experience and the relationship with the restaurant and its people are what keep me coming back. The mood was electric. At one point, I found myself singing a few bars of Soft Cell’s “Tainted Love” with a couple of staff members picking up cocktails at the bar (the '80s playlist was a great touch). I’m so grateful I got to enjoy a wonderful meal on such an auspicious night and witness the joy, love, and pride radiating from the staff. Even Chef Cimarusti came out at the end. I shook his hand, and he had the biggest smile on his face. I can only imagine how incredible this moment must feel for him—and how lucky we are to enjoy the results of his and his team’s labor.