Chi Spacca

Fire, cut, and the chef at the pass

The grill sets the order of service for Ryan DeNicola , chef at Chi Spacca in Hancock Park, Los Angeles, where meat cookery carries the room. His station is built around heat, seasoning, smoke, fruit, and acid, with each doing a defined job rather than adding noise. His Moorish lamb shoulder shows that discipline plainly. Lamb shoulder chops take yogurt and spices, drawing on North African and Sicilian influence without turning the plate into explanation. The marinade tenderizes, widens the flavor, and keeps the meat tied to its cut. At Chi Spacca, DeNicola works less by addition than by alignment, letting richness meet acidity, smoke meet spice, and the grill settle the argument.

A meat program measured by heat

The house is known for dry-cured charcuterie, wood-fired preparations, and a menu that treats sharing as part of the method. Its 42-ounce Tomahawk pork chop sits beside Bistecca Fiorentina, Beef & Bone Marrow Pie, Pollo alla Diavola, Focaccia di Recco, and Affettati Misti, a list that moves from the bench to the oven to the pass without losing its center of gravity. DeNicola’s Korean-style short rib makes the point in a different register. The meat is scored, seasoned with balsamic vinegar, red onions, honey, kiwi, and porcini mushroom powder, then grilled. Sweetness, tang, allium, fruit, and earth remain separate long enough to register before fire pulls them into one structure. The cooking is precise without becoming tight. A large cut can carry abundance; it still has to finish cleanly at the table.

The room around the oven

Chi Spacca works as an intimate, energized room, with the open kitchen and large wood-fired oven giving the meal its tempo. The noise rises quickly. So does the pace at the pass, where shared plates, counter dining, and family-style service make the room feel closer to a working butcher’s table than to a formal steakhouse. Candlelight softens the edges, but the cooking keeps the place awake: char, rendered fat, bread, pepper, vinegar, and smoke move through the room before the plates arrive. The wine program leans Italian, which matters with this food. Tannin, acid, and savory depth have work to do against bone marrow, pork, lamb, and the salt of cured meat. Nothing about the room asks the food to be quiet.

The cleaver’s argument

Chi Spacca opened in 2013 from salumi nights in the Mozza orbit, with the name translating to “she who cleaves” or “he who cleaves.” That verb still fits the place. The cut is not only butchery; it is an editorial act, deciding what the fire should expose and what the seasoning should leave alone. DeNicola’s range includes vegetables, seafood, salads, and charcuterie, but the pull returns to lamb and grill work. The dish is Moorish lamb shoulder.