Poltergeist

If you've ever watched weird performance art, you know what it's like to be amused, confused, and slightly on edge all at once. That's the emotional cocktail you're served at Poltergeist. This cross-cultural fusion restaurant lives inside Button Mash, a retro Echo Park barcade where Eastside bros with mullets flex their bachelor's degree in craft beer. And in many ways, Poltergeist feels like a social experiment: a place where the food can be so messily experimental that it's divisive (which maybe is a turn-on if you're into rebellious types). But if you're simply looking for a delicious meal—one with zero unpleasant surprises that leave you questioning your choices—you probably won't be as charmed. 

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

A pre-dinner note: get comfortable with the sound of pinball machines verberating through your skull, because—as stated—you're dining in an arcade. Tiny skeletons pole dance from lampshades, there are cute demonic cartoons on your napkin, and your cutlery is the same shade of iridescent purple as Kelly Osbourne's hair. And whether or not you look back fondly on your pubescent Hot Topic phase, Poltergeist's offbeat goth-core aesthetic is easy to like. It's fun without feeling gimmicky and an exciting change of pace, especially if the most interesting thing about the last restaurant you visited was the fancy soap in the bathroom.

Ordering from Poltergeist's pastiche of a menu can feel like spinning a giant mystery prize wheel —and what you land on will likely drastically shape your opinion of this place. Much like trying to meditate to Swedish death metal, there's zero chill here: every dish screams in your face with bright colors, loud flavors, and combinations that vary from unexpectedly delicious to downright head-scratching. You'll see clear pasta skills from the chef's Bestia days in the bucatino coated in spicy, fluorescent green curry, and the lemongrass-y Thai caesar might be the most interesting frisée has ever looked. But then there's the rest of the menu, where everything is potentially great but unevenly seasoned, or just straight-up unpleasant, like a "banana split" with pop rocks and what the menu calls: "unique" "seasonal" "flavors." (Maybe you will be a fan of the celeriac root beer ice cream. We were not.)

To experience Poltergeist means weighing pros and cons. There's truly nothing like it anywhere in LA, and you can always turn a good, bad, or dizzying meal here into a fun night of drinking interesting beers and natural wine and getting way too competitive over a game of Street Fighter II. But if food is the critical factor, your tolerance for Poltergeist's quirkiness might run thin. As much as we appreciate this barcade restaurant's unique and chaotically unhinged POV, we'd rather send you to other restaurants in the area that offer something less cool but just as important: consistency.

Food Rundown

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Thai Caesar Salad

This riff makes a classic caesar look like a boring pile of leaves. It's got great texture from twisty sheets of puffed rice paper and friseé lettuce, plus big pops of flavor in the dressing: salty parmesan, brininess from the smoked anchovies, and fragrant lemongrass that perfume each bite.

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Mapo Tofu Stuffed Cabbage

This bright purple dish looks like Barney laid an egg in a bowl, but the flavors mostly work—that is, until you get to the salt-bomb sauce at the bottom, which tastes like someone went wild with a bottle of soy sauce. The mixture of sweet rice, mushrooms, and tofu tucked inside is pretty nice though, even if it doesn't really suggest mapo tofu.

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Octopus Burrata

Does the squid ink in this fry bread add anything besides color? No, but we get it—it looks neat. This dish is fine, but tastes like a jumbled mix of things that don't necessarily go together. The al pastor octopus is tender and spicy enough to make your lips tingle, but the cold burrata kills the fun. There's also a random potato wedge thrown in and some pickled tomatillos on the side.

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Broccoli Beef Ravioli

These ravioli filled with beef short rib are so rich you don't need more than one or two pieces. Their thick, sticky sauce exists somewhere between oyster sauce, Thanksgiving gravy, and a melted jar of Marmite (which is another way of saying it's extremely salty). Grated parmesan adds more salt, and the sweet browned butter lends even more richness this dish doesn't need. Consider the pile of crispy onions the overkill cherry on top.

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Green Curry Bucatino

This is the best pasta dish at Poltergeist and a clear must-order. The noodles have a great chew to them and are so long you can't tell where they begin or end. The tangy, fragrant curry clings to the pasta like a thick layer of paint. Those little piles on top? Charred sunchokes, chili paste, and crunchy pistachio gremolata—make sure to mix them in for maximum effect.

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Sticky Rice Stuffed Game Hen

This gorgeous bird has glossy skin and juicy meat, but falls victim to a recurring problem: too much salt. The chicken gizzard dirty rice stuffed inside, though, is moist and smoky with spices. The other small touches on this dish, like the fried thai basil and sweet pickled papaya, are tasty, but feel like garnishes for the sake of garnishes.

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Panang Lamb Neck

Like the game hen, this dish has a lot of potential: it's perfectly cooked and fall-off-the-bone tender but, once again, so salty you'll need a gulp of beer between bites. There's a mound of fresh herbs and a sweet persimmon amba that help cut through the salt, and some saffron baos to load the lamb on (the saffron is just for color). Weirdly, there seems to be no trace of panang curry in this dish.

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Grilled Dorade

If you're going to get one protein for the table, make it this one. This butterflied fish is kind of a flex: it's perfectly cooked and presented beautifully with fresh herbs, a garlicky salsa verde, and a blueberry chili crisp that surprises with bursts of sweetness. The malawach on the bottom, however, is too dense and chewy. It'd make a good frisbee.

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Tres Leches Carrot Cake

This dessert hybrid is more carrot cake than a moist tres leches, and its cream cheese frosting (like most things here) is offputtingly salty. The carrot top tapioca on top doesn't add anything except some color, but the out-of-place thai tea sorbet on the side was a delicious bonus.

photo credit: Jessie Clapp

Banana Split

Our server warned us that this dessert is divisive, but we found the opposite. In fact, our table all agreed that this might be the world's worst banana split, starting with the brittle trail mix of dried coconut, plantain chips, and pop rocks at the bottom. The ice cream in "unique" "seasonal" "flavors" (yes, that's how it's written on the menu) sounds intriguing, but the scoops of blueberry bubblegum and celeriac root beer we got tasted like those gross Jelly Belly flavors you get as a gag gift.