LAReview
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
Funke
Included In
It's no surprise that Funke, the third installment in a series of successful Italian restaurants, is essentially an activation for the chef's personal brand. Evan Funke's face appears on everything from matchbooks to takeout bags. Popular dishes from sibling spots Felix and Mother Wolf, like salt-studded focaccia and zucchini blossoms stuffed with ricotta, stick out on the menu like easter eggs. Fans wait weeks to get a glimpse of the Beverly Hills kitchen, craning their necks to see if LA’s Willy Wonka of pasta might be working the dough that day. Overall, we buy into the hype of the food. Funke is a strong third act with pasta that earns its high price tags. But it's also tacky and self-aggrandizing in ways Mother Wolf's party atmosphere and Felix's stoic pasta museum mostly avoid.
Let's get the room out of the way. Funke's first floor looks like a hotel lobby on the Vegas strip that’s a couple of decades past its prime. There’s a steady crowd of people buzzing around marble surfaces (just like the scene at Mother Wolf), a pasta maestro rolling dough in a glass cube (twice the size of the one at Felix), and a cringy neon sign that reads “The Last Great Adventure Is You.” It's the kind of place where you'll eat very good orecchiette next to someone who either knows several celebrities or is currently sponsoring their sugar baby's salad. Sit on the second floor to escape most of the kitsch, or head to Funke’s walk-in-only rooftop for a spritz and some snacks as the sun sets behind the Hollywood Hills.
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
photo credit: Matt Gendal
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
Look past the Gucci-clad guests shouting travel stories and onto their plates, and you'll notice the restaurant borrows dishes that work at Evan Funke's other restaurants. Funke serves some of the same chewy, blistered pizzas from Mother Wolf's menu—these are topped with everything from mortadella to meyer lemon. There's a whole branzino, some juicy lamb chops, and a dry-aged ribeye, all of which debuted at Felix years ago. In some cases, these mains will cost $10+ more than what you’ll pay at Felix and Mother Wolf for similar dishes. And they're generally less remarkable than the restaurant's pasta.
Now the recommendable stuff. The restaurant's best quality—the reason you should eat here, frankly—is that it streamlines some of LA's finest pasta dishes into one place and does so with consistency. Megafans will recognize the rigatoni all’amatriciana and tonnarelli cacio e pepe from Felix. Both come out bouncy and just a few seconds short of al dente. After several visits, you’ll still get springy tagliatelle made exactly like a pasta master in Bologna would do it, or hand-stuffed agnolotti pinched with the expertise of a dough architect in Piedmont. These pork-stuffed agnolotti genuinely live up to their $50 asking price. Yes, Funke's hand-cut dough is expensive, but be serious, this is a special occasion restaurant down the street from Rodeo Drive—even basic amatriciana will cost you $35 around here. Rather than just another superficial dinner, Funke gives you designer bucatini made by people who actually know their sh*t.
Is Funke playing things safe by repackaging its famous dishes in a gaudy space? Maybe. That's fine. The formula works, mostly. Come to Funke when you're prepared to eat at the restaurant equivalent of a stretch limo. You'll easily spend $150 per person for tagliatelle, airy focaccia loaves, and a few rounds of tomato-laced martinis. And, if you stick to pasta and the classic hits, it'll be an impeccable meal. Funke might be a self-referential sequel, but if we were making pasta this good, we'd probably reference ourselves again, too.
Food Rundown
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
Sfincione Palermitano
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
Fior Di Zucca
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
Tagliatelle Bologna
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
Orecchiette
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
Agnolotti Dal Plin
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
Scottandita Di Angello
photo credit: Jessie Clapp
Bomboloni
photo credit: Jessie Clapp