Hidden in the Los Angeles Arts District sits a humble, charcoal-touched building. Once an abandoned warehouse, its multi-paneled windows reflect the past—days when industrial workers would sweat for prolonged hours beneath a ticking clock. Adjacent to one window hangs a glowing sign that writes: Factory Kitchen.  

(https://thefactorykitchen.com)

Rumored to serve Los Angeles’s finest Italian cuisine, The Factory Kitchen opened its doors in late 2013. Notable Italian chefs Angelo Auriana and Matteo Ferdinandi founded the restaurant with a desire to share the exquisite recipes they grew up eating. Yet, unlike award-winning Italian eatery Bestia that resides just a block away, The Factory Kitchen is not boastful nor lavish. Rather, its atmosphere is modest, its presentation casual. According to the hostess, the area once operated as a fish-smoking facility. The space stored thousands of dried fish, which were dutifully sliced and smoked by factory workers. This history remains alive and well. 

The building’s industrial aesthetic survives in the speckled concrete flooring and the cracked cement walls layered with peeling paint. The small wooden tables are unadorned, cloth-less. Wait staff dress in humble striped aprons. The menu’s items are scrawled in a tight list of Garamond font. The kitchen, open and bare to its audience, lacks fanciful meat-curing closets and polished marble. The effect? Pure authenticity, which subtly prods the visitor to focus solely on the plate in front of them, to embrace each atom of the substance.  

The Factory Kitchen does not need to over-perform to win its audience. It does that through flavor.

The trattoria offers a wide range of meats, pastas, and greens rooted in Northern Italian tradition—and all at a nominal price. The food is presented on clean, white tableware. Each dish is composed, each ingredient intently selected. 

For starters, the prosciutto, a 24-month aged parma atop a lightly fried sage dough pouf, brings one to the Italian coast. Slice into the bread and it de-poufs into a crisp cracker. Layer the prosciutto, arugula, and cheese and it sings when tongue-touched. 

The scottona, a thinly sliced slow-roasted beef appetizer, embeds hundreds of years of Italian practice in its preparation. The meat is characterized by thin veins of fat in its muscles, called “marbling,” which melt when cooked and makes for tender, succulent bites. It’s genius. Paired with mixed kale, gruyere shavings, and a light mustard drizzle, the plate combines salty flavor with a distinct kick. 

As for the pasta, words don’t suffice. The mandilli di seta, which translates to “silk handkerchief,” is a product of utmost quality and precision. The pasta arrives in delicate layers congregated into a singular heap. Interwoven with an almond and basil pesto, the flavor is that of ambrosia—delicate in texture, powerful in taste. 

The casonzei, a heartier pasta dish, is a specialty of Auriana’s hometown of Bergamo. Stuffed with slow cooked veal, sausage, and pork, each shell is simmered in light butter and served with fresh sage. It goes gloriously with the pear haps. This airy gin cocktail is infused with pear juice—so crisp the pears could have been picked the day prior. 

(https://www.yelp.com/biz/the-factory-kitchen-los-angeles)

The menu does not stop at antipasti and pasta, however. Auriana and Ferdinandi serve six entrées from the land and sea. In the case of number count, it may appear that the entrées are less refined than the pasta, focaccia, and antipasti. But each are delicately crafted, nearly perfected. The porchetta is a roasted pork belly, crunchy and infused with aromatic herbs that balance its hearty taste. As for fish, the snapper fillet, or the dentise, is soft in texture. The skin remains intact, a Tuscan tendency that unites the juice and flavor. Add a side of broccoli di cicco, a plate of sautéed long-stem broccoli, to fuse piquant garlic oil with each bite. 

 Oh, and then there’s dessert. Visitors must not pay the check until they taste the cannoli. As advised in The Godfather, “leave the gun—take the cannoli.” In crafting his own interpretation of the Sicilian-classic, Auriana perfected the cannoli’s light and crispy shell. Complete with soft, whipped ricotta filling, the dessert arrives anointed with sweet orange marmalade and a sprinkle of pistachios. The chocolate-filled bigné, which drips with blueberry wine sauce, is yet another masterpiece. Slice into the puff and remnants of the chocolate and chantilly cream ooze onto the plate. Each dessert is an expression of Italian tradition—a manifestation of passion. 

At The Factory Kitchen, authenticity is at play in both the ambiance and flavor. Mangia tutti.