A Visit to Paso Robles, Part II: Michelin-Starred Six Test Kitchen

Hamachi with Asian pear and chili crunch at Six Test Kitchen.
Hamachi with Asian pear and chili crunch at Six Test Kitchen.

Paso Robles, CA — Six Test Kitchen made history in 2021 — becoming the first Michelin-starred restaurant in San Luis Obispo County. It has held that honor ever since.

It’s a true achievement for Chef-Owner Ricky Odbert, especially when you realize his 12-seat restaurant’s very humble beginnings.

Odbert had worked at some of the Bay Area’s most acclaimed restaurants, including Postrio, Spruce, Masa’s, Aziza, and the Restaurant at Meadowood. But he wasn’t even making enough to afford a cab ride home at the end of the night after work when MUNI had shut down its lines or curtailed them.

So, in 2015 he moved back to his parents’ house in Arroyo Grande. It was there he got the notion to start a restaurant of sorts in his parents’ garage. Fortunately, his father, who built commercial kitchens for a living, was all in on the idea and helped trick out the space.

Chef-Owner Ricky Odbert.
Chef-Owner Ricky Odbert.
Sommelier John Seals.
Sommelier John Seals.

Odbert’s underground supper club — all six seats of it — took off. That is, until someone complained to the authorities, and he had to shut it down until he got the proper permits for what he then promoted as a “test kitchen” with “cooking classes.”

After realizing he could make a go of a venture like this, he relocated the restaurant in 2019 to Paso Robles, about 40 minutes north, to Tin City, a trendy development of former warehouses turned into restaurants, bakeries, tasting rooms, and breweries.

To honor its origins, he kept the name of Six Test Kitchen. Only, now it’s actually 12 seats situated around a curved counter, as I found when I decided to make a reservation on my recent trip to Paso Robles.

Cookbook collection under the counter.
Cookbook collection under the counter.

In the center of the counter area, the kitchen staff cooks and plates everything. Odbert and his cooks also are the servers, bringing the dishes to you while explaining their preparations. Feel free to ask questions, too, as they’re more than happy to chat.

The 100-point Wine Spectator Roderer Estate L'Ermitage for the standard pairing.
The 100-point Wine Spectator Roderer Estate L’Ermitage for the standard pairing.
Pol Roger L'Ermitage for the reserve pairing. Sommelier John Seals says it was a favorite of Winston Churchill's.
Pol Roger L’Ermitage for the reserve pairing. Sommelier John Seals says it was a favorite of Winston Churchill’s.

The nine-course tasting menu is $255 per person, and prepaid at the time of reserving. The standard wine pairing is $165; the reserve pairing is $325; and the non-alcoholic pairing is $90.

A word about sommelier John Seals: I’ve had the pleasure of interacting with many wine directors and sommeliers over the years, but few have been as ebullient and relatable as him. You know he probably has to repeat the same descriptions of the wines multiple times a night. Yet, he makes it feel as if he’s showcasing each wine for the very first time when he stands in front of you. He describes each one not only in understandable terms without any stuffiness, but almost always adds an intriguing factoid about it. In short, he gets you excited to take a sip.

Choose your cup.
Choose your cup.
Warm chicken broth in a cup that Odbert made.
Warm chicken broth in a cup that Odbert made.

The opening salvo of the menu is also quaffable. You’re asked to choose a ceramic cup. I picked one that Odbert had actually made. It gets filled with a warm chicken consomme that’s fragrant with rosemary, sage, and thyme. It’s especially welcoming on an evening that was in the low 40s.

Then, the canapes arrive. First, oysters on the half shell from Grassy Bar in Morro Bay topped with diced persimmons for an almost cinnamon-y touch against the floralness of yuzu and gentle citrus taste of lime leaf.

Oysters with persimmon.
Oysters with persimmon.
Steelhead trout sandwiches.
Steelhead trout sandwiches.
Wagyu beef tartare with a shower of grated sheep's milk cheese.
Wagyu beef tartare with a shower of grated sheep’s milk cheese.

Then, a morsel that reminded me of the famous salmon cornet that opens the meal at Michelin three-starred The French Laundry in Yountville — only in flatter form. A cured steelhead trout sandwich with a thin crispy exterior is propped up on a creamy mound of sour cream and dill. Drag it through the dip, and crunch down on a fabulous chip ‘n’ dip combo with the perfect hit of lemon to it.

Lastly, there’s Wagyu beef tartare tart that gets paired cunningly with grated sheep’s milk cheese, so that the two together amplify each other’s inherent richness and meaty umami quality.

That’s followed by a lovely composed hamachi crudo finished with a broth made from the bones of the fish. Asian pear gives a little sweetness and freshness, while chili crunch heady with sesame seeds adds modest heat and a wallop of texture.

My chawanmushi minus the clam sauce.
My chawanmushi minus the clam sauce.
My husband's chawanmushi with the clam sauce.
My husband’s chawanmushi with the clam sauce.

Speaking of texture, even more is in store with the chawanmushi. It’s usually finished at the table with a clam broth containing diced radish, sea lettuce, mushrooms, and trout roe. However, owing to my clam allergy, mine came already dressed with those accompaniments. The egg custard had that ideal quivering, soft texture. I think this is the first time I’ve encountered chawanmushi with such a crunch of ingredients all over the top. It made for a very distinctive and memorable version.

Black cod.
Black cod.

The restaurant does all its own aging of the proteins, including Morro Bay black cod that gets aged for a week before being poached in Wagyu fat, and served with a consomme made with the bones of the fish and brown butter. Black cod is naturally buttery and velvety, but even more so when it’s cooked in Wagyu fat and served in a creamy pool of this luscious sauce.

Duck broth.
Duck broth.
Duck breast.
Duck breast.
Duck brioche.
Duck brioche.
Duck liver pate.
Duck liver pate.

Liberty Farms duck gets showcased in several ways. First, a soothing warm duck broth that I just wanted to add some ramen to, well, if I had any. Second, a succulent duck breast with crispy skin grilled over bichotan with bay leaf, and served with quince and whipped pistachio.

Third, a buttery brioche filled with confit duck leg. Flaky, layered, and deeply golden, it reminded me so much of a Chinese dim sum curry bun.

To complete it all, the duck knife rest.
To complete it all, the duck knife rest.

Fourth, silky duck liver pate glazed in quince to add a fruity sweetness to its rich irony taste.

Handmade knives from Georgia's Bloodroot Blades. There's a three-year wait for these beauties after you put in your order.
Handmade knives from Georgia’s Bloodroot Blades. There’s a three-year wait for these beauties after you put in your order.
Choose your weapon for the next course.
Choose your weapon for the next course.

The last savory course is 20-aged dry-aged pork loin, juicy as can be, and served with creamy, whipped parsnip puree.

Aged pork loin.
Aged pork loin.
A5 Snow Beef.
A5 Snow Beef.

That is, unless you opt for the supplemental aged A5 Snow Beef Wagyu from Hokkaido for $65, which is even juicier and richer tasting than you imagine, and served with sweet-tart cherry jus.

Slow-roasted pear.
Slow-roasted pear.
Pumpkin ice cream with warm butterscotch sauce.
Pumpkin ice cream with warm butterscotch sauce.
A 1957 Sauternes, with a taste of honeysuckle, to go with dessert.
A 1957 Sauternes, with a taste of honeysuckle, to go with dessert.

Dessert kicks off with slow-roasted D’Anjou pear with raspberry cream. The pear gets so caramelized, and gets a forest-y touch with rosemary and lavender.

Then comes pumpkin ice cream finished in front of you with a cascade of warm white chocolate butterscotch sauce poured over. It tastes like autumn come to life.

Raspberry pate de fruit with the tickle of chile.
Raspberry pate de fruit with the tickle of chile.
The "milkshake.''
The “milkshake.”
Candy cap salted caramels.
Candy cap salted caramels.

For the mignardises, a raspberry pate de fruit soars above the ordinary with a touch of Korean chile. You’re instructed to enjoy the Earl Grey and preserved kumquat “milkshake” in one bite. And you should, because the thin white chocolate casing immediately gives way to a gushing liquid center.

Lastly, there are salted caramels with a mousse made with my favorite candy cap mushrooms to add that unique maple syrup-curry note.

Open only four nights a week, Six Test Kitchen seems to have afforded Odbert the work-life balance he needed, as well as the creativity for which he longed and the personal accolades he deserves.

As for his parents’ garage? His dad uses it for a sauna now.

More: A Visit to Paso Robles, Part I: The Ava Hotel

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