When Life Gives You Peels, Tops, and Stems, Make a 'Cello!

As you walk into Michelin-starred Pasta|Bar, an intimate, carb-obsessed tasting menu restaurant in Los Angeles, there’s an immediate sensorial experience. The sounds, aromas, and sights envelop you before you even claim a spot at the 10-seat chef’s counter. Look up and you’ll see shelving units lined with nearly a dozen one-gallon jars flaunting subtle shades of pink, yellow, and orange. Inside them, various fruits and vegetables are soaking-in-wait to become the stars of the restaurant’s beverage program. And to think, they started just as a COVID-era pivot. 

“Like everyone else, we were trying to make ends meet, desperate not to lose our employees,” says Scratch Restaurant Group’s Director of Operations Gavin Humes. “One of the ways we wanted to watch our numbers was by minimizing waste in the kitchen.”

And thus, the Pasta|Bar “cello program”—a drinks initiative made mostly of leftover kitchen ingredients—was born. “Cello” is short for limoncello, and making traditional limoncello is simple: infuse a neutral-grain spirit with lemon peels and then add water and sugar to taste. At Pasta|Bar, Humes and his team realized you can put most produce through the same process (usually with Everclear or a high-proof vodka) and get a fun take on the Italian digestif: an orange-cello, a pomelo-cello, a strawberry-cello. 

“We don’t have a lot of specific recipes, but generally, the more product you put into the liquor the more intense the flavors become,” says Humes. With jars usually only filled up to about a third with product, “if the flavor ends up too intense, you can always water it down with more uninfused liquor, though we’ve never had to do that.”

Once they had successfully cello-ed the more obvious fruits, Humes said it didn’t take long for the bar team to start with more unusual science experiments. “When we opened, we had a fennel and oyster dish that yielded a lot of fennel root ends, stems, leaves,” he recalls. “And considering it’s fairly inexpensive to try, we figured we’d see if it worked.”

And it did. After a six-week soak with Everclear (Humes says the higher-proof alcohol is usually better for flavor extractions), the team refined the intensity of the fennel-cello with some simple syrup, though according to Humes, not much tinkering was needed (recipe). As exciting as this all sounds, he admits not every cello venture ends up in a glass in a guest’s hand. 

“Interestingly enough, herbs and other citrus don’t work that well,” Humes explains, adding that some of the herbs, like thyme, can create an almost woody flavor, while others leave a grassy aftertaste. “You never get the herbaceous flavor you want.”

But they keep trying, and when the cello isn’t cello-ing, bartenders may mix the product in a drink instead. “We’ve added chiles to make spicy ones, and those cellos make better sense for cocktails so you can balance the flavors,” he says. 

Another point of refinement is the optimal course of extraction. Humes says the average infusion period is between four to six weeks. But because there isn’t much precedence to follow, there’s a lot of learning as they go. “In general, the ‘gentler’ the product, the faster it infuses the alcohol,” he explains, noting that strawberries, for instance, give their flavor over faster than persimmon peels.

“If our chefs get excited about experimenting, we’ll bring in stuff to make in a cello,” he adds. “It’s an ongoing process, but we’re having fun.” 

Guests are, too, whether they enjoy a cello as a pairing for one of the courses, a cocktail ingredient, or a 2½-ounce pour (around $18).

Overall, the unexpected cellos they roll out often become conversation-starters. For Humes, he says his favorite has been the persimmon cello, the product of leftover peels from hoshigaki. “The tannins you get from the peels help balance out the sugar so you don’t get that cloying sweetness,” says Humes. “It’s become one of our favorite inventions. A revelation!”

Chadner Navarro is a New Jersey-based lifestyle writer.