meet me at the corner of third and fairfax.

a walk around hayes valley.

2011-06-22T09:17:00.000-07:00

just some photos from one of my favourite neighbourhoods in the city

bell'occhio, a curious shop filled with curiosities. there was a lady dressed like an elegant acorn in there, and i bought a hazelnut with a stiletto switchblade in it. the elegant acorn lady gave me moss from yosemite.

MAC Modern Appealing Clothing. fearless, gorgeous clothing and every day objects as art. loooooooove this shop, even though i can barely afford things in here. however, i have been shopping here since high school and still own every single item i've bought from here.

check out this martin margiela peacock feather cape. i mean really.

chester, the nicest dog i met in san francisco. it was lovely to meet you, chester.

the fatted calf charcuterie. a beautiful curated collection of cured and uncured meats.

true sake, the only sake shop in america.

bell'occhio

10 brady street,
san francisco, ca
415.864.4048.

MAC modern appealing clothing
387 grove street
san francisco, ca 94102-4418
415.863.3011.

the fatted calf charcuterie
320 fell street
san francisco, ca
415.400.5614.

true sake
560 hayes street
san francisco, ca 94102-4214
415.355.9555.

dinner at incanto, in which i finally meet....

2011-06-14T08:52:00.000-07:00

(x-posted at my guammy blog)

one of my favourite blogs is ono kine grindz, which is based out of honolulu, but its author, reid, is a globetrotting kind of guy. we had made plans throughout the years to meet up in various corners of the globe, but finally managed to meet up for dinner at incanto, during a quickie trip to san francisco that i took with lovely miss yoony from another great food blog, immaeatchu.

incanto is the sort of restaurant that i wish was in every town--smartly casual and inviting, intimate and serious about its food. the menu is a market-dependent, with a rustic italian flare, and changes every day. chef chris cosentino is partial to offal and cuts of meat that most people would discard, but he manages to make the most of some of the most unusual parts.

even though we had to cancel our reservations and suddenly re-make them (hello highway 101! you have a lot to answer for!), the staff was gracious and accommodating, and we were seated in a cosy back room with only six tables (of which four were filled with other parties taking photos of all their food as well. and everyone was eavesdropping but pretending to ignore each other. ha. love this town.).

some of the things we ate:

porchetta di testa, a pig's head salami made by marinating a de-boned head in rosemary in garlic, then braised for an eternity. if you really need to know, there's a video here, but it gets a little graphic.

boccalone iberico di bellota lardo, nakita pear & mint: boccalone is the salumeria run by incanto's chef chris cosentino, and this is his version of cured acorn-fed spanish backfat. yes, lard. delicate, flavour-flavy fat. the sweet asian pear and sharp, herby mint was a wonderful complement.

foie gras, trotters & citron marmellata: yeah, i'm not gonna lie. this was as rich--even richer, actually--than the backfat, as there was nothing that really cut through the sumptuousness of liver, and slowly braised pig's feet. i'm suddenly reminded of that soap opera "the bold and the beautiful". because it was.

pulpo inzimino, cavolo nero & aioli: baby squid cooked in its ink, with black kale and aioli. although more delicate than the pig's trotters, this one also had bold, pronounced flavours with the sweet, tender flesh of the squid playing nicely with the mild bitterness of the vegetable and the unctuous aioli.

beef heart, sweetbreads, spinach & potato: i don't think i've ever had beef heart intentionally, nor sweetbreads, but this was a wonderful introduction. honestly, though, i don't remember their flavour apart from the rich jus, but the beef heart was tender yet with a slight chewiness, and the sweetbreads--that's thymus or pancreas to you--were slightly springy and fork tender.

for dessert we had goat cheese stuffed figs, honey & almonds and a darned tasty sticky toffee pudding & spice ice cream.

i wish i had something profound to say about it, but i don't. it is, however, what i consider to be the epitome of a great restaurant. and the food, the company, the surroundings, our crazy neighbour tables and conversation made for a great night out. mahalo, reid and yoony! hope we can do this again.

incanto
1550 church street
san francisco ca 94131
415.641.4500 ‎

trippin'!

2011-06-14T05:49:00.000-07:00

yoony and i took a quick trip up to san francisco relatively recently...probably spent more time on the road than in the city, so yay for that, interstate highway and byway system. you own us.

my favourite place to stay in SF is hotel tomo. it's small, quirky, quiet, and if there's a big stonking earthquake, i feel like i have a slightly-more-than-infinitesimally small chance of surviving than if i was in a bigger hotel. i could be wrong, but i like being deluded like that.

tomo is in japantown, which may have changed since i was in high school, but doesn't really feel like it. it feels like a sleepy, comfortable pocket of the city with cobblestone streets and pedestrian walkways, stone courtyards and indoor bridges. it's not particularly noted for its culinary fare (hello benihana!), but it has some great bakeries and decent comfort foodie cafés that sometimes i would rather visit than whatever is culinary en vogue.

caramimi urged me to stop by at benkyo-do, a small diner and sweets shop directly across from tomo. check out the swanky website, which is lovely, but doesn't really does not convey the vibe of this little shop at all. it looks like it hasn't changed since....the seventies, at least, the sixties is not a stretch at all--but it is charming, tidy and light-filled. one half of the shop is a diner counter with a couple of tables and possibly half a dozen things on the menu board, and the other half is a sweets and snacks-filled counter with senbei, packaged sweets, and trays of freshly made mochi and manju. mochi is glutinous sweet rice steamed and pounded into a paste then molded into bite-sized treats that are sometimes filled with fruit or bean paste. manju are other sweet treats that are filled with bean paste, but made from a variety of different flours, grains, shapes and techniques. it's a sweet sweet shop, but very, very quirky, which of course, i like.

man, i want to tell you the quirky stories, i really do, but i feel like i might be banned from the shop if i do. so, let's just say if you go, you might walk out with a story of your own, along with some of the most tender, tastiest, freshest mochi and manju i've had. the age donut with red bean paste, dorayaki pancake with whole red beans, habutai white steamed mochi with red bean paste are very good, but my new favourite has to be the blueberry mochi, filled with teeny, tiny blueberries in a not-too-sweet goo that complements the glutinous rice nicely.

the mochi and manju are made fresh every day they are open (closed sundays), but often sell out way before the shop's 5pm closing time. take a moment to stop by.

benkyo-do
1747 buchanan street
japantown
san francisco 94115
415.922.1244

the don draper float

2011-04-02T20:33:00.001-07:00

the don draper ice cream float: one scoop of don draper-flavoured ice cream--vanilla, bourbon, caramel and smoke--floated in boylan bottleworks creme soda. from the lake street creamery truck at the santa anita race track food truck festival.

at first it was like licking the inside of don draper's mouth after a hard day at the office and a liquid lunch--sweet and enticing, with a little bit of booze and ashtray for some dirty intrigue. but then it got a little intense and overwhelming and i began to regret having sucked him in. although he was the one who was kicked to the curb, i was the one who made the walk of shame after that rendezvous.

contents of my fridge.

2011-01-08T01:20:00.001-08:00

what's in yours?

chung king debris.

2010-10-28T21:58:00.000-07:00

it's not as spicy as the photo would suggest. also, possibly not as interesting in its pre-digested state. i do, however, highly recommend the eels with brown peppercorns. deelish.

chung king
1000 s san gabriel blvd
san gabriel 91776
626.286.0298

belle + sebastian forever.

2010-10-07T09:37:00.000-07:00

it was literally a dark and stormy night. lightning was in the distance, and rain pouring sobering buckets on a drunken euphoria of the thought of belle + sebastian playing at hollywood forever cemetery, after a screening of "trainspotting." really? did i want to be doing this?

however, an $8 tarp from target, a long underused anorak (hello my boyish days!), and the luck o' the scottish (snort) got us to the graveyard in the nick of time, parking right in front, and prime seating for both the screening and the band.

miraculously, it was clear and mostly dry in the cemetery itself. the rains kept away the crowds and we got prime seating--better than an cinespia outing--and bundled up with a blanket and because--"picnicking is encouraged during the screening"--some provisions. now the thought of dinner during "trainspotting" seemed sort of unlikely to me, unless it included smack and lucozade, but we made due with a bottle of wine and a lot of chocolate and cheese. with the brisk winds and the wet chill in the air it was almost perfect scottish weather, in an almost perfect scottish surrounding, albeit with big palm trees and police helicopters buzzing overhead. seriously, though, if you ever get the chance, choose life, choose a career, choose a family, choose a big fucking television, choose to see "trainspotting" should it ever be screened in a celebrity cemetery because it is the perfect non-squalid surrounding for that film. i've probably seen it a hundred times, but not in almost a decade, and the film held up better than i would have ever expected.

and then to belle & sebastian. i thought that the show at the hollywood bowl was phenomenal, but this was something else in another league of awesome. intimate and engaging, casual, relaxed yet energizing, and with probably the best sound and sight lines of any concert i have attended. i know i've said it before but this was magic, pure magic. belle & sebastian bring it every time. magicians, musicians, morticians, storytellers, storm quellers, graveyard dwellers....

more photos here.

hollywood forever cemetery
6000 santa monica boulevard, between gower and van ness
323.243.2366.

special delivery

2010-09-28T00:21:00.000-07:00

it may not be the most glamorous job, but delivering ice cream on one of the hottest days in los angeles might be the best.

the inevitable jitlada post, probably not the one you want to read.

2010-07-31T04:14:00.000-07:00

yeah. i knew i'd get around to it. i haven't been to jitlada in maybe six years, and i remember liking it but not loving it. it was quite possibly before the current owners took over and transformed it into the internet-loved-and-hyped, southern thai cuisine palace that it is today. i hhhhhhhhhhhate hype but if a family-run business deserves it, then kudos.

i went on a saturday at lunchtime. jitlada is in a small mini-mall with an even smaller parking lot. saturday at 11.30 am still meant that there were several cars double parked in an already full lot , but there was a decent amount of parking on sunset blvd, albeit with meters. the place , however, was empty. almost. our party of six walked in and was met by two older gentlemen, one who greeted me in thai (?) and i think said "hello again." again? either i have a doppelganger, or someone remembered me from half a decade ago (i'm going with doppelganger). neither actually helped us to a table, but one of the handful of servers ushered us to a table in the back of a honey wood paneled, wood furniture filled room. two other tables were filled--one was a large group of buddhist monks, and the other a smaller table of young thai women in white, who were not eating. it soon became clear that they weren't there for the food, but to pray with the monks, who started their prayers soon after we sat down. lulling, mesmerizing. a real honour; a good sign.

the menu is massive, more type than photos, with a somewhat confusing numbering system--you will find several numbers repeated and they aren't in any particular order. there is a "regular" or "front" menu, and then two densely packed back pages with southern thai specialties. our nice waitress was very patient and amusingly (to me, anyway) so not thai. she did well with us jumping around the menu, and only needing the slightest of clarifications with our requests. she did not, however, ask us about our heat level tolerance, and i forgot to tell her. i actually found almost everything to be at a high, but acceptable level for the most part. can't say the same for the rest of the table (sorry). i did not read any reviews or order suggestions beforehand, mainly because i forgot, but then again, i don't really listen to anyone anyway. however, if you are interested, there are numerous reviews and suggestions under the glass at every table, and on the walls.

the service was good, not particularly speedy, but not slow. dishes tended to come out one at a time, rather than together. we started with soup from the southern thai menu in the back, no. 89 cucumber clear soup. it was exactly that, a clear soup with slices of cucumber, ground chicken, and cilantro, flavoured with ginger or galangal and lemon grass. no spiciness, and not overwhelming in flavour, but a nice way to whet the palate. simple, homey. one of my favourites of the meal. there was pad thai, which was okay. i'm not a fan, and i am especially not a fan of ones that come in a sallow sweet orange sauce, so allow me to ignore it. the other starch was spicy brown rice (no. 126 in the front menu), which i also ignored. i like fried rice, but not as a starch to a meal, and not as a side component a meal, but as a one-course dish. i did try a bit of this was good as such--chewy, not too oily and all the flavours one would hope to find in a fried rice, along with their signature heat. it would have been interesting to try this with traditional red rice, but i think the brown rice provides a better texture.

the water crest (kang kong or water convolvus) in a light lemon sauce (no. 9 in southern menu) was very good--crunchy, sweet, weedy. the sauce nothing more than the liquid from the crest from cooking, and a light lacing of lemon. despite the presence of several small dried thai chilis, there wasn't any heat to this as well. we also had chinese broccoli (kailan or gailan) prepared in a similar manner with cashews added on top. i found this to be slightly overcooked, but still tasty.

an apparently vaunted dish is the fried morning glory salad with shrimp (no. 91 in southern menu). i don't remember eating this. i don't even remember ordering this, or it even being on the table. maybe someone ate it all, it was so good. i should point out that there aren't that many vegetable dishes on the menu, and there are listings for both water crest and morning glory dishes. however, both signify the same vegetable, kang kong or water convolvus, or hollow vegetable.

crabmeat, pumpkin (kabocha squash), and long beans in a dry southern curry sounded better on paper than in execution. the crab meat was okay--restaurant service-quality canned blue crab perhaps--but still sweet, the kabocha and long beans cooked just almost to the edge of overdone. i believe you have a choice of curries for this, and the southern curry overwhelmed the flavour of the crab and pumpkin. this is a lovely idea, but pick a different curry.

kaeng kóp sôm tháwn, frog legs and santol fruit in curry (also no. 9 in the southern menu. ha! so be careful!) . now this is something i would order, did order. a coconut creamy, spicy yellow curry with a generous portion of frogs' legs and santol, a tropical fruit that is related to mangosteen. i was disappointed to find that the santol fruit used was the red variety, and not the velvety yellow variety i'm used to eating on guam and in the philippines. the difference is that the red variety has brown flesh and a mostly sour taste like a tamarind, whilst the yellow variety is white fleshed and has a more sweet-sour taste like its cousin mangosteen. i think the yellow variety would offer a more interesting contrast of flavours, but i liked the plummy-ness of the fruit in this. the frog legs were somewhat overcooked and not the best quality i've had, but yes, you can tell it doesn't taste just like chicken and thank goodness for that. the joint cuts left brittle shards of bone throughout the dish that were a slight nuisance, though.

not the most exciting of dishes, but i really enjoyed the relative simplicity of the fried red snapper filets with a cucumber, tomato and cilantro salad and sweet and sour dressing. everything was well balanced, with a lot of crispy textures playing against the moist flesh and soft tomato and the not overpowering sweet and sour dressing enhancing the vegetal elements as well as the delicate fish.

i don't remember exactly which dish this is, but i don't think it was on the southern thai side of the menu. it is a whole sea bass, fried, then smothered in what is generally known as a jungle curry, but i think is described as "wild curry" in jitlada's menu. i really loved the sauce on this--it's hardcore bitter, spicy, and tough--it really tastes like someone just went hacking through a thai jungle with a machete, picked up the detritus along the way and chucked it into a cauldron to simmer into semi-submission. i did have issues with the sea bass, however. we checked the market price on it, and this dish came out to almost $40 for the one fish, to which we consented; however, i seriously doubt it topped the scales at more than one pound, pound and a quarter, maybe. i was expecting something more substantial--not monster, but i found the size of the fish for the price to be unacceptable.

despite the issues with the seafood, i did enjoy the meal. i'm not entirely sure i would order any of the same dishes again, especially with so much to explore in the massive menu. maybe the water crest in lemon sauce, especially since there aren't very many straight veggie dishes on the menu. i'm not particularly excited about the menu's southern thai cuisine slant, like many people seem to be; it doesn't seem to be too far from what i can get in other places in los angeles, and it is definitely what i can find here in guam, philippines and most of asia. however, i do acknowledge that the chefs and cooks of jitlada do what they do well. i like the space--it's intimate without being too small, homey but actually one of the nicer decorated thai restaurants i've visited in thai town. the service is somewhat perplexing as it seems that the less help they have on hand, the better the service seems to be. everyone seemed quite pleasant, and even though i'm pretty sure it was different management the last time i was in there many years ago, there was a familiarity about them and possibly about me that made me feel quite comfortable in the space. i would definitely go back on a weekend lunch if it means so few people. it won't be my first or second choice, but definitely an option every now and again.

jitlada
5233 west sunset boulevard
hollywood 90027
323.667.9809.

thursday night market at yamashiro's.

2010-07-21T15:57:00.000-07:00

i brought the wrong camera lens for the market, so there aren't any food shots for you (besides the gorgeous stone fruit. so good.) . but here's what you need to know: a few flower and produce vendors occupy a short row, but the rest is food, baked goods, bulgarini gelato, and liquor. yeeeeeah. a farmer's market on the grounds of a restaurant with a full liquor license means you can bring the family, do some shopping, eat some tasty grub, and wander around the gardens all whilst sipping a beer or quaffing down one a bottle of wine. full on hipster scene poolside (! yes! a pool! with a dj!) which means some bikini-clad women in search of duck confit tacos mix in with children dancing to a live jazz band.

parking: you can get valet parking from the restaurant; if you tell them it's for the market, it's $4. don't forget to tell them it's for the market or you'll be charged $7! there's free(?) valet parking and free shuttle down the hill at the christian science church parking lot at la brea and franklin, too.

the main reason to go, though, is this:

from griffith park observatory to century city, you have a true panoramic view of los angeles. priceless, with parking.

yamashiro's garden market,
thursdays from 5pm to 9pm.
1999 north sycamore avenue,
hollywood.
323.466.5125‎.

the golden era of the silver screen

2009-07-07T08:28:00.000-07:00

diversion.

2008-08-04T20:39:00.000-07:00

my new favourite diversion is the flickr group, guess where LA. g'wan over to see if you can figure out where each photo was taken.

2008-07-18T04:58:00.000-07:00

R.E.M. at the hollywood bowl 29 may 08

2008-05-30T04:27:00.000-07:00

i was told that the sound was terrible for most of their set. i was in the garden boxes, and it was actually quite good--not particularly loud, which should have tipped me off. that, along with the "louder" taunts.

slideshow of this and the two berkeley shows (31 may and 01 june).

basquing in bakersfield: lunch at wool growers.

2007-11-15T09:09:00.000-08:00

i have always had a bit of affection for bakersfield, ever since a long ago trip down the 99 in the wee hours of the morning, with my only company being the radio. i turned to the left of the dial, hoping to at least find a little merle haggard in the mix, only to find the local college radio station dj, doing some sort of animated recitation over heaven help us all, starship's "nothing's gonna stop us now." wtf? he was as bored as i was, and reading out the entire script of "mannequin" as a monologue. it was the sort of absurdity that made perfect sense at 1am in the central valley, in the dark of night. that, combined with "bakersfield, p.d." and buck owens makes me think there's something subversive going on...and i like it.

however, i hadn't actually been in the town since i was a wee one, so when dave and bekki suggested lunch there, i was a little surprised, but totally game. unfortunately, we wanted to go to on a sunday, and it seems that the restaurant they had in mind was closed, so we had to wait for another day. turns out, we had to wait for another year before the opportunity arose. luckily, in that time, i managed to catch huell howser's trip to bakersfield on tv, and reconnect with an old friend (more on him in later posts) who had moved up there. so finally, bekki and i managed to take that 2 hour-trip northward one saturday.

so, why lunch in bakersfield? there is a small but significant basque population in the area; many came to california in search of gold, but it was sheep herding that brought even more immigrants after WW2. the basque region lies in the mountainous territory between france and spain, and is reknowned not just for the fuzzy livestock but for its cuisine, which relies on fresh ingredients and simple cooking techniques to accentuate the natural flavours of the food. the basque restaurants in bakersfield don't really specialize in regional dishes, but do apply the basic principles of their cooking to american ingredients, served in generous portions. i'm sold!

it was my fault that we missed out of eating at noriega's--huell's choice--but there is a single seating for lunch where everyone is served family-style at communal tables, and we were never going to make it. however, bekki already had a back up in mind: wool growers restaurant. despite the fact that we arrived somewhat late, the parking lot was full; both the dining area and bar were packed (not for nothing is the word 'cocktails' so prominent on the sign). we were seated in the homey, floral wallpaper bedecked dining room with tables and booths filled with families. although the menu features standard a la carte items, family style meals are available, with a different entrée every day. we opted for the latter, which came with what's known locally as "the set-up": vegetable soup, slow-cooked pink beans, a simple but fresh tomato salsa, crusty bread with cold pats of butter, a crisp iceberg lettuce salad with tomatoes, red onions and green peppers dressed in a light vinaigrette.

there is a little procedure involved: the beans are spooned into the bottom of a soup bowl, followed by a ladle of the soup, then topped with the salsa. the salad follows, and then an array of dishes--a beautifully slow braised oxtail stew with root vegetables, a haystack of french fries unabashedly deep-fried in beef fat, and perfectly roasted lamb, adorned with a deep, rich gravy.

all the food was simple but fresh and prepared well. the portions were more than generous, but if somehow you weren't sated, they will bring second helpings of any of the items. also included in the family meal was coffee, tea, or a bottomless bottle of the house wine, which is a young, fruity, medium-bodied red, served ice cold, and is somehow the perfect foil for the large meal. you could, however, indulge in basque cocktail known as picon punch, a potent combination of a bitter aperitif and brandy. it reminds me of one of my favourite (if completely manly mannish) cocktails, a manhattan, but with a nice citrusy edge. be warned: it is a large and powerful cocktail--it's called a punch for a reason.

and what price does one pay for such abundance? the family style lunch is priced at $10.50 per person. satisfaction comes cheap around here.

*

i really like the atmosphere of this place, but i'm not sure if it's just down to the restaurant itself. the day we drove up was one of an all-too-rare rainstorm, through the somewhat daunting tejon pass. however, i was with great company all throughout, and the grey sky that threatened to be ominous cleared just enough for the sun to peek out when we arrived into town. driving through the quiet streets to the restaurant was at first surprising (where was everyone?) but it was cheering once we got to wool growers--ha! it looked like everyone was here, taking the time to enjoy a good meal with family and friends.

the further away from the city i get, the more i feel the tethers come free. i enjoy discovering places new to me, no matter how mundane they seem from your car window as you speed along the highway to somewhere else. there are always hidden gems to be found, no matter how rough.

wool growers
620 east nineteenth street
bakersfield, ca 93305.
661.327.9584.

google mapped!

drive by: dolce isola.

2007-11-08T19:42:00.000-08:00

just a mini-report from my cousin, ed, regarding dolce isola, the ivy-offshoot that is in a very, very unlikely location--about half a block away from hamilton high school on robertson. but, fabulously, across the street from the v. cool midnight records (and barbershop):

"The Ivy Bakery" is good, we got a baguette and chocolate croissant, very yummy. Really good looking menu; white chocolate lemon cake, fresh pumpkin cheesecake, marjolaine cake (4 layers of hazelnut and almond meringue filled with vanilla, chocolate and praline butter cream with ground roasted hazelnuts and almonds on the side). Weird ass location though, full of Hamilton students literally asking "What can I get for a buck?" Reply: "I guess I can make you some cinnamon toast"

i love it already.

dolce isola
2869 s robertson blvd (x-streets cattaraugus + hargis)
la 90034.
310.776.7070

weekend lunch in san pedro.

2007-10-28T04:26:00.000-07:00

sunny weekends in los angeles are wonderful, but sometimes the heat can be a little more than one can take. one of my favourite weekend day escape is lunch on the waterfront in san pedro, at the ports o'call village, near the cruise ship terminal. as far as waterfronts go, the area isn't the most glamorous, but it's far from being rough and tumble. it is rustic, charming, and easygoing, despite its proximity to the shipping docks.

during the week, the plaza of restaurants on the north end of the village is pretty sleepy, catering to few locals and day fishermen; however, the weekends see it filled with families, packed onto the outdoor decks, enjoying a meal amongst roaming mariachi bands, bewildered tourists on their way to day cruises, and hungry seagulls. the ocean breezes and convivial atmosphere make the crowds bearable; waiting for a table to free up can take time. there are several restaurants to choose from--the majority of them serve inexpensive fresh seafood, cooked in a number of ways: steamed, grilled, and fried making up the majority of the dishes, but with a good variety; a few of the restaurants even have little markets where you can pick out your fish of choice, before sending it off to be cooked.

walk around to get an idea of what you want--everyone's tables seem to hold something tasty and delicious. one of the most popular items is a family-sized portion of fajitas, made with shrimp still in the shell or filleted fish (or a combination of both); the seafood is cooked on a large grill with onions, garlic, green peppers, and potatoes. the fajitas are heaped up onto a plastic school lunch tray, garnished with cut fresh lemons, a container of salsa, and served with a choice of either flour tortillas or large loaves of garlic bread. depending on your party's appetite, this can either serve a family of six, or three very hungry people. along with some beer or mexican sodas, this could be enough to fill you up for the rest of the day, but there are so many other dishes you could try instead, or heck, along side it.

i recently tried the restaurant called alaska seafood, which offers not only the standard grilled and fried items, but also a number of asian/korean-style dishes including hot and spicy soups, tempura, and even galbi and bulgogi. the sopa de siete mares--seven seafood soup--has a clear, spicy broth, accented with tomatoes, cilantro and cucumbers, and of course, the eponymous ingredients: squid, octopus, crab, mussels, and several types of firm fleshed fish. the soup was very good, due to the fresh seafood that makes up the stock along with what was added in; only the octopus seemed ever so slightly overcooked, mainly because the soup arrived scalding hot, and by the time it was cool enough to eat, the tentacles had been cooking for awhile. everything else was tender, with very clean flavours. alaska also does what they call oyster tempura, but is really breaded in panko bread crumbs and deep-fried. the oysters are freshly shucked though, quite large but still sweet and tender. i don't recall if they are served with a sauce, but they didn't really need it. they too have the ubiquitous fajitas, either just with shrimp, or a combination of seafood. their fajitas differ in that they are somewhat wet from an unknown strangely pinkish sauce and the addition of fresh tomatoes. i can't really say i care for their version, but they probably have the best cooked seafood in their fajitas; most of the other versions around the pier that i've tried tend to have overcooked their fish and/or prawns. unfortunately for alaska, the seasoning is a little off on theirs; it lacks the nice, piquant spiciness of its dryer counterparts. still, there are so many other items on the menu, you could give their version a pass.

i think my current favourite restaurant of the lot is the one my friends dave and bekki turned me on to, the crusty crab (isn't that a character on "the simpsons"?). it has an extensive fish market, with large iced vats of whole, gargantuan fish, shellfish, and a long refrigerated case of various filleted items. you pick out your seafood of choice, pay for it, then bring it to a grilling or frying station outside, where it will be cooked accordingly. i have yet to try anything deep-fried as i am addicted to the crazy delicious citrus and herb marinade that is used by the grilling guys. it's light, spicy, and zesty, complementing the vast slabs o' flaky, fresh fish grilled to perfection.

it does take a chunk of time before your fish will be ready, depending on its size and the crowds--45 minutes seems to be the minimum. so what do you do in the meantime? drink more beer, eat a little ceviche, and those fajitas make an excellent, albeit substantial starter. or, watch the boats out in the bay, count the thousands of shipping containers across the way, and enjoy your day.

alaska seafood
ports o'call, berth 79
1112 nagoya way
san pedro 90731
310.547.1961.

crusty crab
ports o'call, berth 79
1146 nagoya way
san pedro 90731
310.519.9058.

google mapped!

technorati tagged: restaurant san pedro los angeles seafood

ashes.

2007-10-23T06:44:00.000-07:00

everything's burning, a horrible thing has happened in my manila neighbourhood, a long ago friend has passed; i am unspeakably sad today. i wish for anyone who passes through here to be well, happy, and safe; please take care of yourselves and the ones you love.

the refresher.

2007-10-19T06:18:00.000-07:00

i'm ashamed to say i don't frequent the refresher in the farmers market all that much. it is one of the few stalls i clearly remember from my childhood that is still in the market, and one of the least changed. it only sells drinks--and soft drinks at that--and a few of the frozen confections that are house-made at the owners' other stall, bennett's ice cream. despite its quaint exterior, though, it does have a rather remarkable selection of sodas from hard-to-find brands (cactus cooler, anyone?) to bottled microbrews--in fact, at some point the bennetts had their own branded soda--a tasty root beer, an interesting lemon cola, and i think there was even a habañero cola. don't know if that still exists. i might just have to stop by to find out.

the refresher
stall # 622 at the farmers market
6333 w. 3rd street (x-street fairfax)
los angeles 90036.
323.939.6786.

the fun starts here: la county fair.

2007-10-17T22:59:00.000-07:00

oh, the los angeles county fair. it's over, but you know, you can always plan for next year. i loved the ad campaign, which poked fun at la stereotypes, but god knows everyone i know has their own preconceived notions about the fair. i haven't been in some time now (we're talkin' twenty years, probably), so i was a little sad to see the fair more commercialized, and standardized (one company seems to run all the county fairs these days). the midway was no longer in the muddy fields, but on sterile concrete--it was actually clean and bright. i remember it being dark, somewhat sinister, and filled with drunk carnies and shady games that were virtually impossible to win--wait, those are still there. whew! at least some things don't change.

it used to be that the great innovation/novelty of fair fare was that it was on a stick--hot dog on a stick, corn dogs, cheese on a stick, cotton candy, lollipops, popsicles, strawberries and cream on a stick....nowadays there's not that much being skewered, maybe because of lawsuits from punctured people? an environmental effort to save the trees or at least bamboo? i did see a pork chop on a stick at the rattlesnake chili kiosk, but the most interesting thing on sticks was the eggroll on a stick, which means not very interesting at all. i guess there was a glut of chopsticks at the chinese place.

the draw now is deep-fried everything--chicken charlie's seemed to be ground zero for the more unusual items: frog's legs, peanut butter banana and honey sandwiches, whole vegetables, s'mores, avocados, soda (yes, deep-fried cola), cookies and cakes. and the talk o' the town: the fried chicken filet smothered with raspberry jelly, and sandwiched between two warm glazed krispy kreme donuts, and served with a packet of honey.

sadly, i've no photo of the real thing for you. i was sick from eating most of a very large doughnut and my companion refused to touch the thing. i asked several people in line if they were going to order it, but no one said yes. i offered to pay for the sarnie ($6.50!), then pay for someone to actually take a bite of it to let me know how it was, but even then there were refusals all around. sheesh. i guess you can only go so far (i also couldn't find anyone ordering a fried cola).

actually, i had read that the most sellable food item at the fair was the smoked barbequed turkey legs--positively healthy compared to the alternatives, even at such gargantuan proportions. i myself opted to go for the freshly roasted corn, which really was fresh as, sugar sweet, smoky, and crisp.

'course, you could always opt for as many pats of butter as you could possible want, or why not dress it up with something from the condiments bar? shaker cheese? two kinds of hot sauce? lime? a giant vat o' mayonnaise?

**
i have to say, i sort of miss the old days, with the travelling salesmen setting up shop, the overwhelming smell of farm animals no matter where you went, the student art and the 4-H competitions. but the people still remain friendly, the fair-goers are excited to be there, and the giant stuffed toy prizes on the midway are still as cheap and as suspect as ever.

frenz4eva

2007-10-16T07:00:00.000-07:00

everybody wins.

2007-10-11T22:30:00.001-07:00

la grande wheel.

2007-10-11T19:59:00.000-07:00

midway, los angeles county fair.

somewhere under the rainbow: rufus wainwright at the hollywood bowl.

2007-10-10T03:34:00.000-07:00

rufus wainwright at the hollywood bowl, recreating judy garland's 1961 concert at the carnegie hall. september 23, 2007. was he up for the task? "recreation" would be too strong a word; perhaps channeling judy would be more appropriate. despite his inability to reach certain notes, or even remember the words, he was a consummate showman. this was less about garland than it was about him, despite lorna luft (and her independently operated shocking pink gown) being there. the best moments were with his mother and sister, who could have easily stolen the show on their own; imho, though, they were at their best when they were interacting with rufus. when is the wainwright-mcgarrigle cabaret hour going to be produced?

a lotta ludo love: ludobites at breadbar.

2007-10-04T20:47:00.000-07:00

the succinct, intelligent, beautifully photographed, voice-of-reason review is here. the following is sheer indulgence. you have been warned.

*

"oh. my. god. there he is. he is so. cute."
i peer over my companion's shoulder into the restaurant. whowha? him? the scruffy guy? that's the chef? er. okay.

*

i met some of my favourite bloggers, susan and bramble, along with some friends at breadbar on third street last week; breadbar is one of my favourite bakeries, and when i heard that it was hosting an ongoing event called ludobites prepared by chef ludovic lefebvre--he of the bare-chested fishing and orange nehi-spritzing--i thought, well alrighty then. i wasn't exactly sure it was my thing as it was a small plates menu with heavy emphasis on cheese (the venture is sponsored by the cheese store of beverly hills); i'm not completely stupid about cheese, but my comprehension of it only extends from knowing that in 1847 the uruguayan navy won a battle by using balls of edam as cannonballs, to thinking that cheddar is probably *not* what you want to use for a cheesecake. oh well. despite my wariness, i knew it would be a good event for a group of people to attend, and if anything, there was always the fantastic breadbar bread to fall back upon. everything about the venture sort of spelled disaster, though, as indecision and tepid reception sort of reigned, right up until we sat down; things only really sort of got going when susan took charge and decided that we were to sit front and center, smack up against the glass separating our table from Himself. (this was, in fact, the first night that they had placed the tables right up against the prep area; if the idea was to get maximum interaction with the chef, well....)

it still took a while for things to go smoothly: as breadbar does not have a liquor license, it was a BYOB event (graciously without a corkage fee)--i'm worse with wine than i am with cheese, so we sent the men in our party down to the neighbourhood liquor store, which is decent enough. after a noticeable wait, they returned empty-handed, as the shop had been busted for selling liquor to a minor. nice! there was so much activity going on at the prep area, that immediately susan and i had become transfixed, almost completely ignoring the rest of our party. the chef hand-carved all the cheeses in front of us, as his sous-chef worked on salads, terrines, cured meats. susan looked at me. "i could watch him carve cheese all night," she declared. i nodded. the rest of the world started falling away. the menu, with 50 items listed--from one daily entrée to the staggering cheese and tantalizing condiments sections--wasn't ignored but found to be a little mind-boggling. almost everything was too, too appealing. our server introduced himself as marshall, and kindly let us fumble through for far too long, until he could take it no longer and basically told us (kindly) he would bring our drinks and some bread baskets. the bite-sized chunks of bread arrived with hand-hewn shingles of beurre echire, a french butter so rich it could have been one of the cheeses on offer. (funnily enough, i had spent the afternoon with tiana, another companion, at surfas, which is our equivalent of the pleasure chest; we had just been drooling over the refrigerated butter case hours earlier and dreaming of this very scenario.) marshall™ was instantly recognized as a star, and became the evening's liaison between our party and the refills station.

i wanted everything--then and there--but we started with what seemed wise: an order of the intriguingly trademarked brocamole™, heirloom tomatoes with a feta mousse, and the large cheese platter with condiments and bread. the brocamole™ --a sort of guacamole made with finely chopped broccoli, red onion, tomatoes, and herbs--was crisp, clean, with an interesting sharp edge to it, and reminiscent of a pico de gallo. tasty, but ultimately the trademark was the most remarkable thing about it. the heirloom tomatoes were gorgeous--so gargantuan, and at the absolute peak of ripeness: sweet, only mildly acidic, and juicy, dressed for the ball with tiny, jewel-like black olives (niçoise? nyon?), and translucent ribbons of red onion. the mousse was cloud-like and surprisingly delicate, discernibly feta in flavour, yet without any of the mustiness i associate with it.

if there was any doubt that cheese was the predominant element of the menu, the specially branded cheeseboards would put that to rest. (i would really like the story behind them. actually, i would really just like one.) there was a small stack of them, ready for chef to fill with the selection of his choosing: reblochon-cow's milk cheese from the alps region of savoie, moliterno-an aged sheep's milk pecorino infused with fresh truffles, fromage d'affinois-a cow's milk double crème for which the word 'unctuous' was surely made, epoisse-a strong runny thing washed in brandy....bramble has the low-down on the complete contents of the board, which was also dotted with a number of the housemade or hand-selected condiments: honeycomb with white honey (possibly hawaiian?), sweet ginger, carrot jam with orange, a lush date purée with fleur de sel, lemon purée, a tomato jam.

i had a question about an onyx-black cube that stood menacingly in the middle of the board; marshall referred us to the maître d'? manager? of the breadbar, who deferred to chef lefebvre himself. he hovered over us, animated, focused, describing everything, despite the surrounding chaos--bramble had a camera on a tripod zoomed in on butter in front of her with the maître d' giving photography tips at her side, marshall was bustling to keep everyone and everything filled and fulfilled, and the rest of us were trying to rapidly comprehend and absorb chef's quick, heavily accented recitation of the dizzying array. (the black block was eventually identified as a preserved beet--fresher and tastier than it sounds, and flavoured more like sweet molasses than a root vegetable.) we dove in.

the cheese board was like an artist's palette (or, given the demographic of the table, a chemistry lab) for mixing and matching ingredients. opinions and suggestions flew around the table; only one of us with a large brain remembered the names of everything, so the comments were largely "omigod, that one!" "try this one!" and a lot of grunting and mmfph-ing from the sheer luxury of texture and flavours. the general consensus was that there was only one real dud on the board (b. identified it as saint-nectaire) which was bitter and ashy. amid the dissent, i heard a voice to my right; it was chef lefebvre, behind the prep area. we let him know of the offender. he checked the wheel in the display, already with a large wedge cut out, and nodded once, knowing instantly what we meant. he held it up, like a pac-man about to devour his head. "i am very disappointed by this one," he said, gravely. the pac-man wobbled in fear. we're very disappointed *for* you, chef! i silently thanked susan again for picking this table. this was fun. this guy's fun.

by way of compensation, he handed us a small board with a generous amount of fourme d'ambert, a cow's milk blue cheese from auvergne, which he was certain we would like. we did. a little while later, another small board came over the glass, garnished with a mango-lime chutney with pine nuts, and a pink grapefruit confit. the confit was a hit. "i don't even like grapefruit!" was uttered 'round, even as people reached for another little candied nugget of peel that held all the essence of the fruit, without the bitterness. i told chef of its popularity. he shrugged offhandedly--yes, certainly!--as he continued to chop whatever he was chopping. "i think it's in my cookbook," he mused. i had never decided to spend $50 so quickly in my life. "do you want more?" i was still in the clouds, wondering if book soup would still be open when we left, so i automatically declined. "wait!" there was a tug at my sleeve. tiana wanted to know what i just said 'no' to. i snapped to, and asked chef. "um, what? grapefruit?" chef waved his magic knife, and the table erupted in a resounding "YES!" he chuckled, and more arrived over the glass.

at this point, we were fully saturated with bread and cheese. dithering over other items still occurred--the skirt steak marinated in cola and espresso looked particularly interesting--but the scallop tartare with exotic fruit salsa was not available, and i think we forgot about the daily dish. everyone seemed mostly satisfied. i was too, but i really wanted to try something other than the condiments that the chef had made, something that perhaps showed off more of his culinary skills. again, that voice over the glass. "for dessert, you must get the LUDO mousse." from his mouth to marshall's ears; two plates of chocolate mousse appeared, along with a handful of spoons. we all took a greedy bit from the perfect quenelle. susan looked thoughtful. "there's chili in there." i took a bite. the chocolate was hawaiian--dark, deep and velvety. in the back of my throat, i felt the small sparks of capsaicin, crystalline and clear. she asks what pepper was used, and chef smiled a little; ah, red jalapeño. yes, certainly! too clean to be cayenne, not spicy enough to be habañero. beyond ignition, no real heat to speak of--just something to vitalize the senses, to counteract the soporific effect of the sultry chocolate. a sparkler lit on an autumn night.

you know, there is something about a good quenelle that gets us girls going. (or at least susan and me. maybe we need to get out more.) chef was again behind the counter, taking something out of a plastic container. ooh. it was an apple tart of sorts, but it looked like paper-thin leaves of apple had been cooked down to form a solid cake (i had later read that it just might be that). however, that was immediately overshadowed when the ice cream container came out; chef took out a spoon and deftly scooped out a perfect quenelle in a single stroke. a sound that encompassed sheer admiration, wonder and envy escaped us. "we might have to order one of those to see him do that again," i muttered. he did it again. this time, he was no longer speaking to us, just handing us the plate over the glass. this one was ours. the apples were cool, melting in their own juice and the slightest of caramels. it was pudding-soft, sweet as honey. the ice cream was flavoured with mastic, a resin from an evergreen shrub, that is used in turkish ice cream and gives it its unusually white appearance and elastic texture. chef lefebvre's version was not particularly gummy, but the flavour was distinct--green, like the sap running through a young tree, or the newest leaves shooting off its branches. there was something quite thoughtful about the whole thing--the ripened fruit and green sapling, a scattering of finely crushed spanish almonds like a crumble of bark, the coolness of the cream like a breeze rustling though the leaves. a nina simone song, translated.

i realized we were all very happy; the chef was busy attending to other patrons so we broke of the spell, and the table was lively with conversation and good-natured teasing about the sheer amount of fermented dairy ingested. i heard someone threatening to hide a piece of the sanitaire in a companion's shoe, just to drive him crazy. chef walked by quickly, with a finger of warning, "don't leave," he barked, as he hustled to the kitchen. we all looked at each other. whether by osmosis or by theory you are what you eat, we had all learned some form of the gallic shrug. chef tells you not to leave, you don't leave. after awhile, he walked up with two black bowls filled with a pale green liquid. an avocado soup, he said, something he was working on. avocado, almonds, grilled bananas, and a drizzle of citrusy olive oil. he was trying to make it more avocado-ey. the shrug, again. opinions around the table, again. chef looked at me; i had nothing to say as i am allergic to avocados. upon learning this, there was a glint in his eye that made me think he enjoys films of the 28 days/weeks later variety, but i spared him the gory details of my ailment. i think he's disappointed as he moved on to other things. i instead regale the table with some hideous highlights. moments later, that hand again, over the glass. a coconut panna cotta, adorned with passion fruit pulp and basil seeds, mercifully avocado-free. the gesture was sweet, but the panna cotta was nothing short of dangerous: sultry, slippery, exotic, slightly unfamiliar, but intoxicating enough to want more, despite it all. someone at the table cryptically remarked that the avocado soup was like married sex, and the panna cotta just pure, utter sex. um. make of that as you will.

we were sated, saturated, and there really was nowhere to go from there. thank yous to the chef and staff seemed inadequate, so marshall reaped the monetary rewards of a generous tip. i think we were all slightly disappointed it had to end, but there was great elation from knowing that we had just had a most memorable meal. i hope to have many meals with the friends and family that were there that night, and hope to have the privilege of chef lefebvre cook for us again, but i think for some of us (certainly, me) this was a once-in-a-lifetime moment. our big night.

*

as we walked out of the restaurant, i realized for the first time in my culinary experiences, i had regrets other than the i-shouldn't-have-eaten-that kind. i regret not trying more of dishes, for not asking more questions, for not asking chef lefebvre for his recommendation, for not taking photos that did his work justice. for spending $200 on a pair of shoes and not on a meal at bastide or l'orangerie (no. wait. let's not go that far. still love my shoes).

*

what made it so memorable? certainly good company. definitely the casual and convivial atmosphere of breadbar. and of course, chef lefebvre's menu, which was difficult only in choosing; the food itself was not. i have been so disappointed by meals at restaurants with "celebrity" chefs that i've shyed away from any place that issues a press release, or haven't had access to deserving fare for one reason or another. this was a learning experience--not only one for french cheeses, but also one for flavour pairings and impact, a reawakening of the senses, and renewal of enthusiasm for food.

*

i can't guarantee you'll have the same revelation, but you might have a very nice meal. things i would do, should i be so lucky to return: bring wine! i know insanely little about it--everything i know about good wine i've learned from lou--but whatever you bring, i'm sure someone can help with menu pairings. bring friends! the dishes are really meant to be shared and paired--not just in portion, but flavourwise. the more, the merrier. bring an open mind! i did, and i am grateful. (oh, and go on thursdays. chef's recommendation.)

ludobites@breadbar (from now through december '007)
8718 w 3rd street
la 90048
310.205.0124.

google mapped!

technorati tagged: ludobites ludo lefebvre breadbar

the big freeze.

2007-10-01T03:04:00.000-07:00

i finally had my first pinkberry experience. we were driving through the westside on one of the hottest days in a while, and needed a bit of a respite, so we thought it was about time to check out the whole fro-yo or whatever pinkberry is thing. not really knowing where one was, i called information and asked for the shop, and when asked which location, i just named the street i was on, and the operator asked which of the three locations did i want? beverly hills? again, the operator: which of the two on the same street did i want? sheesh. overexpanding much? we picked a location--which was empty and about 15 degrees warmer inside than the already boiling midday--picked out our treats, and headed for the shade of a nearby park. i ended up with green tea topped with fresh raspberries, pineapple and (canned?) lychee, my cousin picked out plain with raspberries, kiwi, and granola. we were both surprised that neither were particularly tart, considering what we had read, and the flavour of the green tea was pretty non-existent. it was a disappointment flavourwise, and it melted far too quickly, but the iciness and fruit were very refreshing on a hot day. and dammit if i'm not craving the darned stuff despite its shortcomings. crackberry, indeed.

i have to say though, if i'm craving an icy treat on a warm day, i'd rather head on over to olympic for the korean version of the filipino halo-halo or hawaiian shave ice. it's called gwa-il bingsu, and generally consists of a hill of finely shaved ice, preserved sweet red beans, fresh fruit, and condensed milk. cake house makes a fine version with the red beans, condensed milk, fresh berries, canned fruit cocktail, and jelly candies, but if i have the time for tea and a bit of sit down, wien's version with red beans, kiwi, watermelon, strawberries, green grapes, kinako (roasted soy flour), and ice cream instead of milk, really sort of hits the spot for me. i love the texture of the cellulosey grapes and watermelon against the snowy ice and gritty kinako, and the ice cream substitution keeps the whole thing from getting too soupy too quickly.

*

if you have a preference for either or, don't get confused by the similar names (wien's full name includes the phrase 'cake house'), addresses or phone numbers; cake house in on the westside, wien in koreatown to the east.

pinkberry
too many locations. time to thin the herd.

cake house
11301 w olympic blvd
la 90064.
310.914.0404.

google mapped!

wien
3250 w olympic blvd
la 90006.
323.766.0404.

google mapped!

squeeee! mld on gg.

2007-05-14T17:34:00.000-07:00

ergh, i'll admit it, i'm a closeted "gilmore girls" fan (actually, not closeted, just no one i know actually cares). so i'm just simply thrilled, honey, to find out that one of my most favourite songs evar, "inside out", from one of my most favourite bands evar, the mighty lemon drops (of which dave newton, one of my most favourite people evar, was the guitarist) shows up in tomorrow's series finale. is there such thing as a music spoiler? because it comes at a most appropriate scene, given the lyrics of the song. which are weirdly not online. oh well. go to itunes, buy the single :)

gilmore girls series finale, tuesday, may 15th, 8pm US pst on the CW network

gilmore girls finale mighty lemon drops music

2007 cinespia schedule

2007-05-02T19:48:00.000-07:00

the 2007 cinespia schedule for summer screenings at hollywood forever is up and running. check it out y'all, and see you there!

breakfast at the griddle: LAPD approved.

2007-04-06T23:47:00.000-07:00

oh, i don't know what to say about the griddle. come before 8am because it's a zoo otherwise; it'll be you and the cops enjoying lumberjack-sized breakfasts instead of the late-rising neighbourhood folk and curious tourist-types. i used to avoid this place because it was always bursting at the seams, but the food is pretty darned good--definitely worth rising a little earlier to get there when doors open at 7am (8am on weekends).

the griddle is open for just breakfast and lunch, but i'm pretty sure you can get lunch items at breakfast (and of course vice versa). i haven't gotten to the lunch menu yet; i'm still pretty enthralled by breakfast: massive omelettes and egg dishes served with a loaf of grilled potatoes, pancakes and waffles bigger than your head, with flavours ranging from the rather healthy honey, cinnamon and rolled oats "sow your oats" pancake to the absurdly overwhelming whipped cream topped "devil's daydream" french toast made with chocolate bread studded with chocolate chips.

above, "the golden ticket": buttermilk pancakes filled with brown sugar baked bananas, caramel, streusel, and walnuts then further topped with more caramel, streusel, and whipped cream. yes, OTT, but surprisingly light in texture, and not that sweet. really. buttery, yes. banana-y, yes. like lead in the stomach? no.

egg dishes range from the very rich and substantial "poached y papas" benedict--baked ham, poached eggs on seasoned potato skins, and smothered with hollandaise sauce--to the relatively healthier "muscle bound" scramble of egg whites with turkey/chicken breast, spinach, tomatoes and green onions, served with müesli bread.

my personal favourite is the omelette "my soul", filled with one of the daily seven choices of chili my soul chili, cheese, and topped with sour cream and fresh tomato salsa. the chili choices available are up on a board, along with a heat index. the vegetarian espresso black bean chili is particularly good for breakfast, but sometimes the heat from the durango chili made with beef chorizo is more of an eye-opener.

there's a really good chance i'll get to the lunch menu soon, even if it means fighting off the crowds. however, i still haven't tried the kahlua or bailey's-laced buttermilk pancakes, the huevos rancheros, nor the apple cobbler french toast. it's a good thing i'm an early riser, and better still that breakfast is the first meal of the day. i have the rest of the day to work off the calories. or take a nap.

the griddle
7916 sunset blvd (x street: fairfax)
la 90046
323.874.0377.

tagged! los angeles restaurant cafe pancakes

2007-03-03T04:36:00.000-08:00

breadbar.

2007-02-18T20:38:00.000-08:00

guncgh. just looking at the photos i took at breadbar, i get a carb crash that just makes me want to sleep. no wonder it has taken forever to do a post on it. all i want to do is get one of those almond croissants (split buttery croissant, filled with marzipan and rebaked, then dusted with icing sugar and slivered almonds), a nice cuppa, and devour. then nap.

i usually go to the one in the ~~century city shopping mall~~ westfield shopping center in century city just because there's [cough] better parking (snort) than the third street location. relatively speaking, of course. lately it has been overrun by agents from nearby CAA, i can literally feel them breathing down my neck as they stand in line, waiting for a outside table to open up. the servers look like they'd be perfect for any "grey's anatomy" spin-off someone may just be casting--future century city mall employees will be younger, thinner, and more glamoo than ever, headshot included with every receipt.

i usually just end up getting stuff to go, but should you want to stay for a light repast, breadbar does not disappoint, mostly. i would call ahead to see what their hours are, if you are visiting the century city location; it is listed as open from 7 am to 11pm, but my best guess is that it is actually open from 9am to 9pm (surely subject to change). breakfast time is uncrowded, a nice leisurely space and pace. the food is good, but not particularly innovative; however, who needs to be for breakfast? omelettes, cereals, and of course, breads. the nomad is purported to be a sandwich, but is actually an herby omelette with beautifully roasted yukon gold potatoes with a side of five-cereal grain bread. the french toast is light and airy, made with their 'franco-american' loaf (i somehow conjure up spaghettiOs, but be assured it's not related); it is served with fresh berries, whipped cream, and a wholly unnecessary maple syrup. the fruit plate looks anemic, but had some of the best out-of-season watermelon i'd had since winter began.

lunch/dinner consists of sandwiches and salads, and carb bombing baskets of a selection of anywhere from two to six breads, jam and butter, and a hot drink. gaahaaaahaaggggg. they need to outfit the place with cots, more bench seating, something. my body can't handle all the refined flours and sugars running amok. i don't know what i can say about the salads and sandwiches except for that they are solidly good.

currently nibbling on their curcuma hazelnut loaf, loaded with roasted hazelnuts and spiced with turmeric, raisin walnut loaf, and a log of eggy bread studded with dark chocolate chips. mmm. that thing sugar speeding along santa monica blvd? that would be me. any minute now.

update 22 february: did i call it or what?!

breadbar
10250 santa monica bvd (at westfield)
la 90067
310.277.3770.

google mapped!

also

8718 w. 3rd street
la 90048
310.205.0124.

google mapped!

technorati tagged! bakery bread cafe los angeles

the calm after the storm.

2007-02-11T13:50:00.000-08:00

I wish to stay forever - letting this be my food
But I'm caught up in a whirlwind and my ever changing moods

2007-02-05T07:16:00.000-08:00

olson's scandinavian deli.

2007-01-24T22:37:00.000-08:00

my knowledge of things scandinavian is limited to furniture design and IKEA (i'm pretty sure the tack för besöket! on the receipt means "thanks for visiting" though); however, thanks to IKEA i've come to appreciate a good lingonberry or two, and a nice elderflower cordial. truthfully, i don't find myself...gravitating towards the culture of sweden, denmark, nor norway, but there is something quite appealing about what woefully little i do know about these countries and their respective culture, even if it's just a little tord boontje, a lot of moomintroll, and like, way too much sondre lerche.

i was fascinated, and way too thrilled, when i learned a few months ago that i live a hop, skip and a jump from a scandinavian deli. i didn't think something like this existed in my neighbourhood, and in fact has since the late 'sixties when bertil and helene ohlsson first set up shop on pico boulevard. olson's scandinavian delicatessen and gift shop is tucked up next to an auto body shop (really, what isn't in this certain stretch of pico?), in a building i must pass every day, but never noticed, despite the flags flying outside. i'm actually quite ashamed that i never noticed it before; everything about it screams for my attention--the handpainted signage in a vintage font, advertising a family run business specializing in foreign foods and possibly strange trinkets. really, it should have been like a siren's song. still, i'm glad i've finally found it.

the shop itself is divided in two sections--one that seems almost abandoned, with open boxes of various tinned and bottled food items, sitting next to christmas items, folk art, music cds, and more than a few dalahästs. there's half a dozen kinds of pickled herring, a chiller case with lefse potato bread, an entire shelf dedicated to salted licorice. the comestibles seem to have just come in, but some of the gift items look like they've been there for years; frankly, i could probably spend a couple years perusing all the odd items. there's a man in the corner who excitedly reverts from speaking english to possibly swedish when he sees a cod roe paste he's been looking for, gesturing to his friend that he might have to buy a case of the stuff. in the adjacent room there's a young man from the auto body shop, waiting for his sandwich from the deli to be made (a meat sarnie will only set you back $3.95, a meat and cheese combo $4.95). there's various cheeses, homemade liver paté and european-style cold cuts. the man behind the counter (mister olsson?) offers me a taste of the rullepølse, a danish spiced meat roll. it is fatty, but such a gorgeously thin slice of pork, cool and lightly herby, that i think that i will buy some for some open-faced sandwiches at a later time. i also pick up the house made pickled herring salad with beets, and a nice chunk of gjetost, a norwegian brown cheese made from goat's milk with an almost caramelized edge to it. i mosey on over to the chest freezer and open it; inside are dozens of hand labelled white paper packets of homemade meatloaf and swedish meatballs, potato sausages, frozen lingonberries, butter ring pastries and--just in time for christmas!--lutefisk. oh, where is lisa oslo foodie when you need her?? i pick up a coil of potato sausage ("a crazy minnesotan creation," i'm told), and will return later for some swedish meatballs. man cannot live on ikea swedish meatballs alone.

i love this place; there's an air of the run-down about it, but it still manages to have a healthy inventory. there's nothing manufactured about it--most of the signs are handwritten, the deli meats and cheeses are hand carved and individually weighed, and the folk behind the counter are friendly enough, knowledgeable, and there to serve you. while i was looking around, i became acutely aware that this wasn't a venture that would be passed on to another generation; when the owners pass on, olson's deli will probably just be another note in pico boulevard's history. i hope that day doesn't come soon; having just found it, i think of it as a treasure box of items i have yet to discover, and of spoken histories not yet told. the place wasn't exactly bustling, there seems to be a loyal clientele. i count myself as one of them.

tack för besöket!

olson's delicatessen
5660 w. pico boulevard (x-street spaulding)
la 90019.
323.938.0742.

google mapped!

update: ryan at losanjealous is embarking on a quest to master pico boulevard. i add olson's to the list of all things pico.

tagged! los angeles pico boulevard swedish scandinavian deli

2007-01-11T19:13:00.000-08:00

one of my favourite signs: the electric company's art-deco era neon sign on beverly drive, beverly hills.

open all night: canter's.

2007-01-06T18:36:00.000-08:00

when i was younger, we'd inevitably end up at canter's deli after a night of clubbing, enjoy a post-mortem of carbs and more carbs, sometimes stumble out at the break of dawn to sleep away the hangover. now it isn't the first late night choice it once was, and seems more like the actual hangover, but it still holds a place in my heart; no matter how long i've been away, the food always looks and mostly tastes the same, the decor remains untouched, and the same characters work there. everything--from the items in the bakery display to the barflies in the kibitz room--look like they've been there since the late fifties but in a completely unfaded way; they haven't been sitting there since then, i've just travelled back in time. or, time stops the minute you walk in the door. it's my own personal ghost world.

look, there's enid. it's not the best bakery in town, but there's an appealing quality about the squares of cheesecake with the plasticky gloss of cherry filling, the giant bearclaws, and piles of crumb-dusted rugelach, marbled ryes, and coffee cakes. the main room is 'sixties naughahyde banquette and fluorescent lighting perfect, with waitresses who have worked there since then or longer, the crowd is still somewhat lively and convivial. the side room that leads to the lounge, however, is another story. still vinyl-boothed and artificially lit, but in a somewhat dimmer way, like a photograph beginning to fade. it's always less populated, and almost always manned by the younger male servers (and by younger i mean mostly in their forties than the women in their sixties). there's a very transitional quality about the room as people wander into the kibitz room to listen to local bands, or to go outside for a smoke. no one seems inclined to stay very long, including the servers. it's like a quiet bus station lobby on late weekday night, in los angeles of 1974. jack webb would eat here. he probably did.

the menu is a little all over the place and expansive. they've got typical deli platters, sandwiches, boiled dinners...chicken milanese and eggplant parmesan? guacamole and quesadillas? obvs a menu like this isn't going to be stellar throughout, but it's not horrible. a little pricey, but it's late night, it's decent, and there's something quite comfortable about it. the staff is generally efficient and genial. possibly the only smiling face you'll have seen all day. $10 for a sandwich of just meat and bread (although a generous portion of meat on generally fresh bread) and all the pickles you can eat isn't so bad when it comes with unspoken empathy and kindness. and foodwise, there's always some happy surprise. the chinese chicken salad is really good. you can't go wrong with a fried baloney sandwich. i'm a big fan of their knishes, blintzes, and even the matzo ball soup, which is really just a tumor made of matzo sitting in chicken fatty broth. mmmm.

not a leaden baseball, but not quite light and fluffy; could be hotter, but the chicken stock is good, if plain. and it comes with a side of warm saltines, which is magically delicious.

canter's deli is never fine dining, but still an experience all the same. wouldn't be los angeles without it.

canter's menupage

canter's
419 fairfax (x-street rosewood)
la 90036
323.651.2030.

google mapped!

tagged! los+angeles deli bakery fairfax+district 24+hours open+all+night

finally!

2007-01-02T01:36:00.000-08:00

remember this house? it looks like we'll finally get to see the inside of it on e! channel's high maintenance 90210, which premiered late last night. the series follows employees of an exclusive placement agency that house of david™s owner norbert young is one of three people from whom brian the butler gets interviews; judging from the e!online bio page, mr. young will be regularly called upon. whooo! need to see the pool, which apparently features mr. young's face in mosaic tile.

tagged! reality+show hancock+park house+of+david™s los+angeles

"the most indie thing to have ever existed"

2006-12-27T17:46:00.000-08:00

the beginning of indie as we know it. it's the 20th anniversary of the issue of NME's C-86 compilation. tonight at spaceland, the c-86 all stars, featuring dave newton from the mighty lemon drops, will cover all the pop songs from the eighties that will reawaken your hidden twee heart. you can come again, with vodka in your veins...splendour in silver dress, velocity possessed, the world can be yours again!

i'm just filling up the spaces in my happy head....i'll dig out my anorak and meet you there.

an afternoon at the cat and fiddle.

2006-12-18T22:25:00.000-08:00

just before the holidays, i met up with a close friend and spent the day with her and her lovely family. we hadn't seen each other in years, and we fell in like old times, only this time with her toddlers and amenable husband in tow. we had a very yummy mummy sort of brunch in a neighbourhood joint popular more for its location, agreeable attitudes towards large parties with more children than adults, and pet-friendliness than its food or ambiance, although to be fair, the latter two attributes were more than satisfactory. she is as vivacious and kind as ever, she has married a good man, and her children are adorable as children get. however, i found myself exhausted from their exuberance and vigour, and feeling a little alien in this cosy family unit. i left them with well-wishes and a sincere hope to keep in touch, but with also a desperate desire for a tall alcoholic beverage and some room to breathe.

luckily a quick phone call and even quicker ride down sunset brought me to the cat and fiddle, a pub in hollywood that we--old friend and i--had frequented much during university years but i had not been to since. the building is a spanish-style stone complex built around a large courtyard, and dating from the 1920s. it is quiet and calm at any given time, and takes you away from the rush of sunset boulevard just yards in front. i found it to be the same as ever, although a bit foreign in the light of day. it was bright but chilly, and my friends were already ensconced in a cozy corner of the courtyard, nursing pints of stella. (i don't know if we've talked about this before, but i gave up drinking awhile back. i was a teetotaler up until...sometime this summer, but haven't really imbibed much in the ensuing months. however, when i was younger, i was a bit of a lush.) i was quite fond of snakebites; besides completely dating me (and apparently outing me as a former goth), i don't think there's any pub in la that will serve them. still, pubs get extra points from me if they've got cider on tap; cat and fiddle has strongbow, a pint of which suits me fine in my creakity older years.

i admit to have gone to the cat and fiddle for food, not drink, before, even though ye olde king's head has better batter on their fish and chips. it's still california, though, and i feel like the vegetables are more abundant and fresher than typical pub grub. we ordered plates of cod and chips, which came with either soup or a big green salad, and welsh rarebit, an abundantly cheesy toast made with double gloucester and served with a broiled tomato. everything was hearty, well-prepared, and reasonably priced. they've got typical fare as scotch eggs, shepherd's pie, and bangers and mash; of course you are in los angeles, so like other pubs, there are healthier, grilled fish and meat, and vegetarian alternatives. good side salad. good bread rolls (if you don't get one, ask).

the pub, at night, can get lively and horribly overcrowded in the late evening, but the afternoons are generally calm and genial--the perfect respite. it has been awhile since i've had the time to just hang out with my friends, and do absolutely nothing at all except sit and enjoy each others company. as the afternoon wore on, the christmas lights were turned on, and some of the employees began to decorate the tree outside, laughing and joking as if it was a christmas tree and not just the garden ficus. i began to appreciate my morning of familial chaos more, but also really treasured the "family" i was with at that moment. it was good to catch that breath before another season of chaos, stress, and overwhelming festivities began, but also to remember and experience a little of the real reason for the season: caring, compassion, friendship and family.

(and a little tipple to grease the wheels never hurt either--but don't drink and drive, folks!)

the cat and fiddle
6530 w sunset blvd (x-street shrader)
hollywood 90028.
323.468.3800.

tagged! los+angeles hollywood pub food

ray of light

2006-12-08T21:21:00.000-08:00

ray ferra's iron 'n antique accents lamp shop on la brea. complete tip, but great resource for old lamps, parts, and fabrication. and of course, ray, who has probably lit everything that can be lit. i hear he's retiring soon, and i'm not sure what will happen to the shop. check it out while you can.

ray ferra's iron 'n antique accents
342 n. la brea
los angeles 90036.
323.934.3953.

tagged! los+angeles lamp restoration shopping

the real california's gold.

2006-12-07T07:41:00.000-08:00

eggnog. huell. dairy. cheese.

imo, strauss creamery has the superior eggnog, but broguiere's has the better packaging. huell howser, host of "california's gold" and subject of a very entertaining drinking game, graces some of the regular glass milk bottles throughout the year as a tribute to being the dairy's favourite visitor; the "california's gold" episode featuring broguiere's dairy is one of the most popular episodes of the series. however, his visage is most apropos on their holiday eggnog bottles. the 'nog a little overly sweet, overly viscous, and best in small doses, but full of cheer and holiday spirit. just like huell. real california gold, y'all.

tagged! california's+gold huell+howser dairy holiday drink

rip this joint! dinner at mozza.

2006-12-06T19:19:00.000-08:00

mama says yes, papa says no,
make up you mind 'cause I gotta go....

rip this joint, gonna save your soul,
round and round and round we go.
roll this joint, gonna get down low,
start my starter, gonna stop the show.
oh, yeah!

oh, the inevitable mozza post. after a couple of false starts, more than a few canceled and re-appointed reservations, i finally made into the mario batali/nancy silverton pizza joint, mozza. i went to dinner with a friend, whose previous experiences in that space on highland avenue included a collapsed lung, so you know this night was destined to make some sort of impression.

i do have to say, it was probably not a good idea for me to check out a new restaurant right after thanksgiving feasting, and on a bitterly cold night where lethargy was the highest form of energy i could muster. however, i had been really curious about this place, and after canceling out on three reservations in a row, it was a very kind thing of them to actually let me in (and not ban me for life). during regular dinner hours, even. i got there, actually found a space on the street to park (otherwise, it's $6 for valet parking--which is somewhat cheap, i think, considering how the valets risk their lives crossing highland all night), and opened a giant barn-like door to a high-ceilinged largish room that was darker than it was out on the street, and about 5 times louder. heaving with people, "exile on main street" on the stere-ereo. loud. we were seated promptly, at a banquette table at the back, and then handed what looked to be a stylized folded street map. oh, wait, that was the menu. it sorted reminded me of a font catalog, someone spent a lot of time on it. too bad they didn't hire that person to paint the dark orange and ochre walls, which seemed hastily done. guessing from the colour underneath the framed mirrors, the space was a little more soothing at some point--maybe nancy silverton influenced?--but now i'm told it looks similar to batali's pizzeria in nyc, otto, all orange-hued and honey wooded. i'm told orange is a colour that stimulates one's appetite. mario batali is very orange. i, er, am pretty sure that batali does not whet my appetite. the menu items do not seem very much like otto, but very much more like nancy silverton's doing (as other blogs and reviews have mentioned), even though the press kit says the food is not only "silvertonian" but "batalian" as well. (ergggggh. i just got the batalian/italian pun. bleah.)

our server asked us if we wanted anything to drink, i think, i couldn't tell as mick jagger was telling me how got his rocks off in a very loud yet muffled way. my companion ordered quartino (a 250ml carafe, maybe a third of a bottle?) of a dry-ish house wine, never found out which one as i couldn't hear him, even though our knees were touching (and even though i was at elbows with people at the tables next to me, i couldn't make out their conversations either).

we ordered the fried squash blossoms, because everybody orders the fried squash blossoms. they were filled with a fresh ricotta, and lightly battered in what i venture to guess is a rice flour/soda water batter, then salted with maldon sea salt. light and delightful. i don't know if this was a dish about flavour as everything seemed quite delicate; i think it was more about the creamy texture of the cheese and the delicate shards of batter that were only the tiniest bit greasy. no sauce to speak of, but also unnecessary. i think it was at this point that i realized there wasn't any salt nor pepper at the tables (my friend merry hates this, that the house presumes the chef's seasoning should suit everyone--what do you think?). also, that while the blossoms weren't cold, they mightn't have seemed a little greasy if they were warmer.

these were followed by a crostini with cannellini (white) beans, caramelized onions, and capezzana olive oil. beans on bread. carby, but packing more flavour than i expected. however, i found myself doing that thing where you start mentally calculating how much this dish actually cost to make, and thinking if you made it at home it might be just as good as the restaurant version.

then the pizza. you know about the crust: woodfired, crisp and bubbly on the edges, still crisp on the outside towards the center, but with a thin, chewy middle. you like it or you don't. i like it. it's not as hard as some of the bread crusts i've encountered in silvertonian breads (i am using that foolish phrase from now on), but there's enough heft to not sag under the weight of the (albeit modest) toppings. pizza not sliced all the way through, so for a minute i had a vision of a pizza tussle where half of it goes flying as i try to sink through the possibly impermeable crust. luckily it was easy going. the gorgonzola dolce, fingerling potato, radicchio and rosemary pizza was exquisite; the sweet creaminess of the gorgonzola matched the sweet creaminess of the roasted potato, the wilted radicchio cut through the fattiness, the fungal tang of the cheese and the pine-iness of the rosemary lent a very earthy, woodsy quality to the 'za. very very nice. if just a touch cold. the white anchovy, tomato and hot chilies (? the menu says olives. there were no olives) pizza wasn't as successful--the white anchovies were marinated in vinegar, which didn't quite blend well with the tomatoes. the spiciness of the chili was dull and one note. spice and acid, not much else. also a touch cold.

by now, i was fully carbed out, but still got dessert. the butterscoth budino (pudding), which many people have already raved about, and a fig crostini with a meyer lemon pannacotta.

the butterscotch pudding was something like a not-to-sweet caramel dairy thing, texturally a cross between a creamy pudding and a mousse. it was topped with a layer of caramel, a sprinkling of maldon sea salt, and whipped cream. i can't say i cared for the pudding part of it--the texture was great, like something i'd want in a hair product--but the flavour was mild (neither buttery nor burnt sugary) and not particularly interesting. the caramel topping and maldon was much better, like a liquid version of a very good candy. very rich, but the blander pudding balanced this out. it was served with pine nut and rosemary butter cookies on the side, which were tasty on their own, but didn't enhance the pudding itself in any way.

the fig crostata was a small free-form pastry with a buttery shortcrust and stewed (?) figs. fig jam. something. like an adult fig newton. the figs were quite good, but very one note--i didn't notice if there was any other flavours in there, of which it could have benefitted, maybe a little citrus or anise? the crust was okay, but again! cold. i would have been happier with a warmer pastry, to contrast against the very good meyer lemon pannacotta on top, which was like a sunny, citrusy greek yoghurt--tart, jiggly, sweet, refreshing.

oh, and coffee, which was really, completely, stone cold.

impression so far: effing loud. is "exile on main street" really restaurant music? orange paint does not whet my appetite. also, overall, while the food was competently prepared, i would have been much happier if the meal was hotter in temperature overall. i'll definitely return, but maybe during the afternoon, or any off hour. see if there's a difference in temperature and acoustics.

mozza
641 n. highland (x-street melrose)
los angeles 90036.
323.297.0101.

tagged! mario+batali nancy+silverton los+angeles restaurant pizza hype

frittelli's

2006-11-26T18:18:00.000-08:00

fancy doughnuts in beverly hills. nice enough space, nice enough people, parking in the back. virbila recommended. raised, cake, specials. although the standard combos are special enough: apple cider, lemon poppy, cranberry orange, vanilla cake with espresso glaze, blackberry jelly-filled, bittersweet chocolate raised. coffee drinks available, chocolate and teas. did i mention nice enough space and people? hm. well.

doughnuts in general do not excite me. on my 0-10 scale of doughnuts, krispy kreme falls somewhere at 5 (hot raised glazed: 5, 7 without glaze, the rest: 3), bob's at 8 (nostalgia: 10, doughnuts: 6, kitty doughnuts: 10), hong kong mandarin oriental bakery a solid 10 (the apricot-filled doughnuts? seriously, the best). frittelli's would be a 7. these have very interesting flavour combinations as far as doughnuts go, and are executed well, but don't change my opinion that raised are better than cake (these are mostly cake), and that simpler is better. their raised doughnuts are large and have a lovely, silky texture, but not much of a taste without the glaze. cake are fine crumbed, not greasy, and not as stodgy as the ones in your local donut hut. the flavoured coffees aren't made with commercial syrups, and are competently brewed, and they seem to be awash with mariebelle chocolate products for sale--maybe they use said product for their house hot chocolate? they are definitely raising the (buttermilk) bar, so i can't dismiss them. maybe with a name like frittelli's, i was expecting something a little more old world, a little more old-fashioned, more wood and brass and old italian men and proper football on the telly (as in soccer not nfl). maybe i'm asking too much from a small shop in beverly hills. but maybe, i am really asking too much of doughnuts, to be better than they really able to be.

frittelli's doughnuts and coffee
350 n. cañon drive
beverly hills 90210.
310.276.1408/1414

tagged!beverly+hills doughnut donut+shop

peregrine on pico?

2006-11-24T15:54:00.000-08:00

sorry for the bad photo, but i saw this bird flying high above pico blvd, near fairfax the other day. i've seen it a few times since then, but always high above. does anyone know what kind of bird it is? i'm just a little curious. it has a small head, a short, sharp turned beak, medium brown feathers on top, and white on the bottom, which some dark/black markings throughout. i think it might be a peregrine falcon, but i've never actually seen one in los angeles.

give thanks

2006-11-23T19:07:00.000-08:00

that you weren't on frankie's shit list.

back in pv.

2006-11-15T09:55:00.000-08:00

back to puerto vallarta, for yet another wedding. eh. could be worse.

capturing summer.

2006-09-28T23:20:00.000-07:00

the poetic: the bounties of the markets, gardens, and backyard trees of friends and family speak so much of summer; the long, lazy days, the heat, humidity and stickiness, the vividness of colours and heightened senses all captured in elements of each fruit in their own unique way. the first bite through the earthy, thin membrane of strawberries to the warm, sweet, slighty saline dribble of juice reminds me of the salt-tinged, hot, heavy air of the coast and the glaringly sunny, dusty fields from where they were picked. lemons recall a day of easy companionship of friends, the waxy skin akin to the shiny leaves from the gnarled tree from whence they came, pruned back reluctantly; the pucker of stinging juice a reminder of the hidden thorns which pricked us in retaliation. there is so much of it that one would long to remember in the grayer, busier, more stressful days of the year; a way to capture the essence of summer, to give a sweet reminder of sunshine, warmth, and grace.

fruit, sugar, water, heat. easy alchemy.

the reality: 1. i go to the farmers' markets and vendors are practically *throwing* their wares at me--i'm tempted by everything in season, and the idea of buckets of berries going for a fistful of crumpled dollars that won't even get me through a fast food value meal menu is hard to resist. i visit friends and family who complain that it's too hot to pick the fruit or veg bursting off the vine, falling off the tree in their backyards. if, they slyly comment, i want some, just go ahead and take what you want. they know that i already know where the ladder and secateurs are; they also know i'd rather pull down everything ripe for the picking and leave the majority for them. cheap labour, they secretly know. suckaaaah. oh yeah, whatever, where are the gloves.

2. i take home pails, laundry baskets, milk crates of ripe-at-that-moment fruit. i gleefully arrange jadeite bowls, plastic polka-dotted trays, and precious craftsmen-era sideboards with marthaesque towers of lemons, blossom, and herbs. i waft around in ballgown skirts and pearls whilst vacuuming, citrus fruit gently tumbling down to the rug like a scene from a stanley donen musical starring a demented asian girl, set in rue du pico-robertson. i live in ignorant bliss for 48 hours before the reality that it's a hazy, stifling 90 degrees outside sets in, and there's penicillin mold bulleyes growing at an alarming rate on all the lemons. i start to hyperventilate the mold spores in as i imagine grisly fruit-fly-related illnesses or slipped-on-rotting-cellulose concussions. i am reassured i will not contract scurvy, but only just.

3. spend an aggravating afternoon trawling the westside for canning supplies--am blanked out at major supermarket chains and at 'spensive gourmet outlets. do people not can anymore??! only on the prairie, says a blithe stockboy. well then, get me some mother****ing jars from the mother****ing plains! i am reminded that winter is just. around. the. corner. and what with al gore sightings and melting ice caps and such i can't be too careful you know? (la cienega at sunset would make the perfect slalom run, btw.) weirdly discover that the major 'spensive gourmet supermarket, gelson's, carries every canning supply i could possibly ever want, including paraffin wax for airtight sealing. hardcore, awesome. i'll take a case of each size, please. as i am pushing my cart through the aisles, i look at the other patrons in the store and wonder: are kyle maclachlan and ricki lake (not together) a part of the secret gelson's canning society? does special agent dale cooper can royal anne cherries for homemade pie? do orson and bree preserve victory garden vegetables for fun? does tracy turnblatt have a pickled beets recipe to die for? i buy enough cane sugar to make the supercilious checkout lady assess the size of my thighs. i seethe quietly yet quite visibly alarm the law clerk who just wants his yogurt.

5. get home, bung all the jars into the dishwasher for a round on the hot rinse cycle to sterilize them. leave 'em there to dry and tackle the piles of flesh around me. slice and dice like a human ronco machine.

6. take out a pot. take out two pots. take out four. dump lids for jars into one pot of boiling water, then ignore it. generally, it doesn't take that much to get your jam on, especially if you're not too picky about the consistency of its consistency--throw in any amount of ripe fruit, adjust acids and sugars to taste, add other flavourings, cook down until a teaspoon of the boiled liquid begins to gel/harden on a saucer chilled in the refrigerator. of course i don't follow a recipe, that would imply i am more prepared than i am. i ~~clean out the fridge and pantry~~ use my imagination and come up with some winning combinations:

1 pint of fresh figs, quartered + 1 small meyer lemon, sliced, with peel (without seeds) + 1/2 cup white sugar + 1 cup port wine

2 pints strawberries, hulled and halved + 1 pint blueberries + a handful of royal anne cherries, pitted + juice and zest from 1 meyer lemon + 3/4 demerara sugar

2 pints strawberries, hulled and halved + 2 pints blueberries + 1 cup brown sugar + freshly grated nutmeg

4 cups white corn kernels + 1 pint red cherry tomatoes + 1 pint yellow pear tomatoes + 1 cup apple cider vinegar + 1 cup brown sugar + 1 tablespoonful whole mustard seeds + 1 bay leaf

7. fill dozens of clean jars with prepared fruit or veg, and discover boiling method of canning not as difficult as building a sod house under the banks of a river. basic, scary looking directions here, but help from the dishwasher eliminates step 3. all you really need to do is fill the jars carefully, leave a teeny bit of room on the top, remove as many air bubbles as you can, seal not-too-tight, then boil a bit in water. anyway, if you fear you are the harbinger of plague or the e. coli strain that will wipe out your entire blackberry list, then put the finished jars in the fridge anyway. no biggie.

8. flatmate opens the fridge for a beer. stares for moment then finally says, "what are we? poor?" i finally perfect the Santos Death Stare™, then stalk off to the little garden. too bad you can't really slam a sliding door.

back to the poetic: by far my favourite of the lot is a four fruit marmalade made from a haphazard zesting, grating, chopping, and juicing of blood oranges from my uncle's garden, meyer lemons from merry's, lemons from cyrano's, and a ruby red grapefruit stolen from a neighbour (shhhhhh). the jewelled tones of red, orange and gold are as vivid and brilliant as any sunny summer day, the sweetness, bitterness, acidity and sheer brilliance of flavour is such a perfect reflection of my bond with each of the people who contributed to the bounty. each taste is as fresh as the next, with a subtle difference from the intermingling fruit; yet, it is as classically traditional as marmalades should be. a bit of summer in every bite, a little reminder of friendships forever, even after the last spoonful is long gone.

gilmore guy

2006-09-21T20:16:00.000-07:00

new concept: dim sum, everything you've heard, read, and more.

2006-09-17T21:22:00.000-07:00

everything you've read or heard about new concept is true: it can take forever to get in on weekends, the waitstaff is either in their own world or rude, the dim sum is totally overhyped, the napkins are terrible. sure. but they've got the best char siu bao buns i've have ever had--soft, delicate, fluffy, glossy, a nice balance of tender pork, salty sauce, sweet dough--and generally their dim sum is pretty good. i'll go back.

here's a random survey of menu items:

what i loved: the fried taro cake, which came in smaller chunks than what you'd find in one of those rolling cart palaces, and was lighter, fluffier and less greasy too; the shark fin and scallop dumpling was filled with a plump, barely cooked scallop and generous portion of shark fin, wrapped in a jade green wrapper and topped with delicate roe. the roasted pork rocked the house down--shards of crispy, fatty skin atop tender, well-marbled pork loin meat, and served with a tiny bit of hoisin and sugar to bring out its flavour. droolworthy.

chicken feet=pretty great. flavoured mildly with jalapeño, and totally fatty without being greasy.

pretty good, okay: chicken wings, braised in soda, although i don't know what kind of soda. probably a bad thing that i can't tell if it was cooked in a lemon-lime soda or a cola, but really, i just got it for novelty's sake. chicken good well, sauce not that interesting.

also just okay: mushroom caps stuffed with a minced prawn mixture. quite generous in portion, and cooked well. however, the fungal shellfish combination just doesn't work for me. tasted great separating the two main elements, but then what's the point of that.

disappointing: shanghai dumplings. i thought the wrapper was a little too thick, and they stuck to the bottom of the steaming dish, so they broke easily and let the broth run out. however, i didn't think there was enough soup in them anyway. the flavour was good enough though.

the odd: i don't know what this is called, because it was written in chinese characters on the menu. the very abrupt host really didn't feel the need to explain what it was to me: "do you want it or what?" uh, what, but yeah, bring it over. turned out to be a glutinous rice roll, flavoured with a sort of medicinal herb and sprinkled with sesame seeds. sweet, sticky, odd. couldn't finish the portion.

okay. there you go. proceed at your own risk, make your own mind up. want to come with me next time i go?

new concept
700 s. atlantic (x-street: harding)
monterey park 91754.
626.282.6800.

backyard bounty

2006-09-06T20:37:00.000-07:00

a short commentary on the disney concert hall.

2006-08-28T20:23:00.000-07:00

i don't really know all that much about the walt disney concert hall, except for that it is an impressive alien on the downtown landscape. i can only imagine that when frank gehry first conceptualized this piece, he was gazing a stray, crumpled up piece of paper (probably an earlier, rejected design), or maybe the wadded up foil from the lid of some reheated leftovers as he worked into the night.

i haven't made my way there for a concert yet, nor have a sprung for the self-guided audio tour. i can tell you that even at 8 o'clock in the morning, the glare absolutely radiates off of those stainless steel walls; i had the most extraordinary case of vertigo standing on the sidewalk looking up at it. the sidewalk in spots was hotter than a frying pan--i started to tan. funnily, it is slightly claustrophobic, yet somehow calmer and steadier up on the roof, and inside is as placid and almost conventional as the exterior is not.

ah, the infamous flickr slideshow, or for the impatient, the complete flickr set.

2006-08-24T06:40:00.000-07:00

fern dell, i heart you.

2006-08-23T08:20:00.001-07:00

if i had to name the one stretch of nature i love the most in los angeles, i think griffith park would just edge out the coastal beaches along the PCH. the park is over 4000 acres of land along the eastern santa monica mountains, making it the largest municipal with urban wilderness in the united states. although there are definitely well-developed areas of the park (griffith observatory, the greek theatre, autry museum, la zoo, and travel town), much of it is left free to be explored through hiking, biking, running and horseback riding trails, camping areas, or just left to be. how can i not love a landscape where morning walks finds me greeting sleepy coyotes waking up for the day, just around the corner from where "rebel without a cause" was filmed, or where i can go stomping from one zip code into another--not really know where i am going but *up*--and just as my male hiking companion says, "sometimes i just want to get really buffed and start wearing women's blouses" who should appear from just below the fire ridge but kd lang? i mean, really--you would heart it too if this happened to you (and it can!).

i have to say that one of my most favourite places within griffith park is just at the very edge of the los feliz/western canyon entrance, fern dell. it is quite literally a dell full of ferns--fifty different varieties at last count, along with a thick tangle of tropical trees and plants that fight for space amongst cedars and coastal redwoods planted along a lively brook that hosts a number of crayfish within it, and colourful blue and red dragonflies around it. the dell is always ten degrees cooler than anywhere else underneath its shady canopy, and although early morning walks often find it gray and foggy, i've encountered oppossums, squirrels and deer drinking from its rather clear depths. yes, yes, i know, it's very snow white, but it's very charming. although i am quite enamored by this bit of natural beauty, i do know its truths and am more than charmed by it, i am gleeful in sharing them to all and sundry (you, tg, you, and whoever else may be reading). you don't really have to look too closely at the winding paths and footbridges that follow the brook, the fakey wood railing that keeps you from falling into the water (theoretically), and the well built up stone beds to know that there is a certain manufacture about it, not to mention where in the world would you find hibiscus bushes naturally growing next to cedar trees? here's the rub: the crystal clear waters of the stream that i tra-la-la along were actually a by-product of the cooling system used for the giant telescope housed in the griffith observatory, which is directly above fern dell. instead of just letting the flowing water go to waste, it was channeled into this lovely little haven, landscaped and fern dell was born. (this however, is no longer the case, and there are currently plans to renovate the whole water system....) oh hollywood, your Oz-ness is everywhere.

at the very edge of fern dell, there is a picnic area and a little snack bar that has been there since i was a young'un. however, it has recently been taken over and reinvented into some sort of childhood fantasy of What Snack Shacks Should Be Like™. the little wooden hut has been cleaned up and furnished with antler light fixtures with sweet little lightshades, quirky hanging flowerpots and fairy lights. the menu has been revamped to include snaildogs (hot dogs wrapped in spiralling pastry), meat pies, fruit pies, healthy sandwiches, and fosselman's ice cream treats. and craziest of all, not only are there vegetarian offerings, but vegan ones as well. okay, so maybe that's not really any childhood fantasy of anyone, but it's pretty fantastic all the same.

i wish i was hungry enough to try out one of their vegan savoury pies, but we did stop to try the pies on offer--mixed berry and peach that day. although our slices were all smooshy, it was nice to know that it was because they still warm from the oven. i am not sure if the fruit was fresh or if they were fresh frozen, but the flavour of both was quite intense and there was still a little bite left in the texture of the peach (gloopish for the berry). the best part was the crust, which is the thinnest crust i've ever had on a pie, but still flaky, sweet, and buttery, scented with a dusting of cinnamon sugar that lent itself well to the warm fruit. mmmmm. along with a couple of glasses of homemade lemonade, they hit the spot. perhaps not the best pie in los angeles, but definitely the best pie i'd had in the nicest snack shack in the bestest park. evah.

oh, you know i love my flickr slideshows....

the trails
233 fern dell drive,
griffith park.
323.871.2102.

questions of curiosity.

2006-08-21T00:17:00.000-07:00

people tend to want to break up with significant others in public spaces, usually restaurants, because supposedly you'd have less of a scene and it's neutral territory. if you were breaking up with someone in los angeles, where would it be? what restaurant and why? would you end on a high note and go someplace nice, would you go somewhere familiar because it would be easier, or would you go someplace loud so if there's a scene, no one will notice?

on the other hand, if you think you were going to be told to shove off, what restaurant would you like to be in for that final interaction? personally, i'm not sure if a fast food restaurant would be a good place, but i'm thinking it might be appropos. and put you off eating junk food anyway, so it could be a good thing.

the dowager empress, queen of the 'b's.

2006-08-20T06:42:00.000-07:00

i didn't want to have this photo as the header, but you know how i feel about asian restaurants with marginal health code ratings. suffice it to say, i'm more than okay with it, and apparently so are the thousands of people who throng to empress pavilion in la's chinatown.

empress pavilion is, imo, the queen of the dim sum/yum cha trolley palaces, in los angeles. there are no doubt more innovative, interesting, and tastier dim sum places in the region, but for sheer volume, consistency, and quality in the face of its popularity, it ranks right up there at the top. weekdays host a large crowd, but nothing near as much weekend brunches, where being seated 'within the hour' is considered reasonable. the crowds and waiting time can swell to the point of absurdity, but instead of eating elsewhere, i've noticed that many people will actually just start ordering dishes from the adjacent takeaway shop instead of giving up their place on the list. it is so ridiculous that my cousin and i are hatching a plot to rent the space directly across from empress pavilion--we are going to recreate their façade faithfully, down to the brass letter, only call our place "temptress pagoda." we're going to take in the overflow and/or completely confused clientele, then just run over to empress's takeaway joint and serve their dim sum in our place. bwaharrrr.

here's some tips: go for breakfast. no, really. come here at 9am, it's never crowded--it's just me and a bunch of old chinese men having their morning tea and dumplings. the selection isn't quite as varied, but it is as fresh as it's going to get. if you come when it's crowded, make nice with your waiter and you can ask for specific dishes, which he'll bring from the cart for you. maybe. or, if you are delegated to a far reaching corner, make free to leave your table and chase down a cart for what you want (don't forget to bring your ticket for trolley lady to mark). it's probably quite a bad mannered thing to do, but i haven't heard anyone complain, nor has anyone chastised me for doing so (just keep it to a minimum unless you are really, really hungry. chances are they know well enough not to mess with a famished one). grab your dessert early, especially their faboo dun tat/custard tarts--they do run out.

and now, a bunch o'thumbnails for you to click on of things i have snagged from the cart lately....

steamed dumplings:

char siu bao/roast pork buns--good, a little sweet, nicely fluffy; scallop with pea shoots--scallop sweet and tender, pea shoots an interesting vegetal element that adds just a bit of earthy flavour; scallop dumpling; har gow/prawn dumpling--slightly bland, but prawn nicely cooked, tender; cheong fun/minced beef with a mild seasoning in a rice noodle roll, served with a sweetened soy-based sauce--the rice rolls is not too sticky, and doesn't overwhelm the filling; scallop and prawn dumpling.

fried dumplings:

wu gok/chopped pork, prawns and vegetables in deep-fried taro pastry--slightly oily, but nicely light in texture, not gummy; jow har gok/prawn turnovers in glutinous rice pastry--also slightly oily, but not gummy; an interesting prawn wrapped in rice paper roll, then garnished with a ring of fried taro pastry--the prawn was plump and juicy, but the rice wrapper slightly too dry, could have used a dipping sauce; deep-fried cigars of minced prawns wrapped in nori seaweed--excellent, very shrimpy; mango and prawns wrapped in rice paper then dipped in an egg batter and fried--sweet, tender, quite good when warm; pan fried meat and chive dumplings--slightly oily with a slightly too thick wrapper, but bursting with chives and minced pork.

non-dumpling dishes:

congee/jook/rice porridge--this one was chock full of dried scallop and preserved vegetables, a perfect breakfast item; chinese broccoli with oyster sauce--still crispy and very green; fried rice with mushroom, prawn, chicken and roasted pork, wrapped in lotus leaf--they have the sticky rice version, but prefer this as it's not so heavy (however, it is tricky to eat); ngau yuk/steamed beef clumps--meatballs seasoned with ginger and chives, light and tasty; see jup pai guat/steamed pork ribs seasoned with black beans, garlic, salt, oil, sugar, and pepper--oily, piggy, tender and salty; roast duck-a little fatty, skin not too crisp, but the meat quite tender; char siu/roast pork--super fakey colour, a little too fatty, but not-overly seasoned and quite tender.

obviously i like this place. although there's nothing i can think of (besides the dun tat/custard tarts) i must insist upon, there's nothing on the trolleys i'd actively avoid--even the bowl of guts is pretty tasty, although heavingly large. it is solidly dependable (the guts and the restaurant). this of course, does not even begin to cover the selection--i'll be back to try the rest. maybe you'll join me?

see the flickr slide show.

empress pavilion
(in the chinatown bamboo plaza)
988 n. hill street,
los angeles 90012.
213.617.9898.

surfas fracas

2006-08-15T14:54:00.000-07:00

grrrrr. my local favourite restaurant supply place/gourmet garage is being muscled out by the city it helped revitalize. surfas stocks a combination of basic industrial restaurant supplies, commercial baking supplies, high end tableware, and exotic gourmet food items and recently they've added a café, which comes highly recommended. the café never really did anything for me, and the store's stock--or lack thereof--can be highly frustrating, but it's nearby, the staff has always been cordial, and despite it not having things i really need, it often has a thousand things i really, really, really want. like chrome cupcake stands, orange enamelled tagines, and economy buckets of goat's milk butter. if they leave, then my penchant for baking things like pistachio almond cakes and lemon pound cake with a basil-lemon sugar crust will be severely curbed, as i purchased key ingredients at surfas.

grrrrr.

read about it at curbed la, eating la, or on surfas website.

monastery of the angels.

2006-08-13T07:49:00.000-07:00

very little about hollywood surprises me, but i do admit that finding out that there was a monastery around the corner from the 101 did startle me. then to find out that it was home to cloistered dominican nuns was more of a shock than mel losing his religion on the PCH (although, i just found out there's a cloistered nun who's a voting member of the academy. ha! i wonder what she thought of "brokeback.") well, heck. this was worth visiting.

i'm not sure i understand the whole concept of how the monastery was founded, but you can find its history here. the building in which the monastery is housed used to be a mansion, but was bought by the order in the 'thirties; i'm not sure exactly how large the building is, as i've only been in the courtyard, but it is impressive in its simple, austere, spanish-influenced style. the small garden of contemplation has a beautiful statue of st. dominic visited by our lady, and another of st. michael; it is peaceful despite being just yards away from the busy traffic. although the style of the statuary, the architecture, and the calm really make you feel like you've stepped back into time (and maybe into another world), you only have to look into the empty parking lot to know you're in hollywood, baby, because the corner is almost always occupied by a covered mercedes benz G-class G500 SUV. um. i can't even venture to guess who in the order owns that whip. but i do know how they pay for its upkeep....

in the grand tradition of many a sequestered order, the dominican nuns bake and handcraft confections that they sell in their modest gift shop. the monastery is best known for its pumpkin bread, which is a hefty almost two pound loaf of tender, lightly spiced, lightly sweetened, cakey bread, studded with walnuts and baked fresh every day. at US$7 a loaf, it sounds pricy, but is actually quite a bargain, considering the quality, care, and sheer enormity of the giant loaf.

however, i am drawn in by the handmade chocolates and confections--the chocolate and peanut butter fudge, truffles, chocolate-dipped caramels, and coconut fruit bars. i am absolutely taken in by the mint meltaways, cubes of milk or dark chocolate infused with potent mint oil that you pop onto your tongue, then let the heat of your mouth melt the smooth chocolate away. you don't get an immediate jolt of mint, but instead you start to feel the coolness fill your mouth and slide down your throat; once all the chocolate is gone, a lingering sweet, minty essence remains. bliss.

my friend michael didn't think that these chocolates would knock see's candies off the top of his list, but these really did it for me in their simplicity, quality, and the sheer quirkiness of it all. also, each box is labelled "better than the best"; clearly, either these nuns haven't taken a vow of humility, or they really know their product has no equal. or, perhaps, these women hidden behind the monastery's stucco'd walls are just another part of the whole hollywood machine, and know how to sell the dream. cheeky monkeys. gotta admire the humour in that.

the monastery of the angels
1977 carmen avenue,
hollywood 90068.
323.466.2186.

(gift shop open monday through saturday, 8.30am to 5pm)

daikokuya qu'est-ce que c'est

2006-08-05T16:23:00.000-07:00

do you have a soundtrack running through your head? i generally do (which accounts for a lot of things, i reckon). i have found myself driving around downtown, late at night, with a particular sound and tattoo--it's dark, sinister, heavy, yet buoyant; quirky, kitschy, and retro, yet very of the moment. maybe a little futuristic, too. think a sort of mash-up of talking heads' "psycho killer," television's "marquee moon," franz ferdinand's "take me out," about a half dozen songs from say hi to your mom, and um, pink lady's "UFO." it's not about the lyrics (i am notorious for mishearing lyrics--sometimes deliberately), but you know, i'm relating to those pinky grrlz:

Shinjirarenai koto deshou keredo
Uso ja nai no uso ja nai no honto no koto yo
Soredemo ii wa chikagoro sukoshi
Chikyuu no otoko ni akita tokoro yo

(This has got to be unbelievable
But it’s not a lie, it’s not a lie, it’s for real
But it’s OK, I’ve been getting
A little sick of Earth men lately)

los angeles and its inhabitants are feeling somewhat...outerspacey...to me these days. is it the heat? life on mars? sad saturn lifestyle? like always, like never before? or, maybe it's just the atmosphere in general that makes me think "blade runner" truly is just 13 years away.

and nowhere do i feel that more than when i'm in daikokuya; whenever i'm in there, blade runner is now. at the very edge of little tokyo, the shop is a dim, narrow space hidden behind a low hanging yellow awning and black noren (shop curtain). once you enter, you feel like you've been transported elsewhere--it looks like an american diner as imagined in tokyo back in the late 'forties, early 'fifties; however, there's a layer of decay that makes you think you are walking into that diner in the tokyo of today. the dark banquettes, red and black linoleum tile, and formica counter seating are utilitarian, but the random old advertising signs, a bookcase crammed with manga, scattered japanese toys, and rabbit-eared portable telly give it a vintage charm that owes more to sanford and son than say, pleasantville. not so much shabby chic as just shabby. however, it is in no way unclean or dirty, but rather extraordinarily tidy and oddly meticulous. very japanese. as is the staff, who are young, casual, friendly and slightly off in their own world, which is neither yours nor mine (no, they're not replicants). does it sound off-putting? i personally find the aesthetic very appealing, very 'spain under the time of franco'....it's how i've decorated my flat; it's probably why i feel very at home in daikokuya. very much a melange of the old, now, and new, as it was, as it is, and as it will be...wow, do i want to say 'world without end' right now or what. mmmm. maybe. not. but like the los angeles of 2019, apparently clashing cultures seem at odds, but are really just supersaturated into the grain of the place. 'tis what it is, baby.

**

daytime, it's not a particularly busy shop; they open for lunch at 11am, and supposedly close at 2.30pm, but i know i've been there much later than that, and they've always obliged. the one-page menu is pretty straightforward--rice bowls, a few sushi rolls, a couple of appetizers-- but the main draw is the ramen (or raumen, which is the typical roman/romaji spelling of the word), chinese-style noodles. they are served in the traditional ramen-style of a large bowl of slightly chewy noodles with hot, meaty broth, a soy-flavoured egg, bamboo shoots, bean sprouts, and thin slices of tender berkshire (kurobuta/black) pork loin, then topped with a generous amount of green onion and sesame seed. or, you can get it tsukemen-style, where the noodles and toppings are served separately from the broth, which is used as a dipping sauce. a sadly typical afternoon visit finds me a little worse-for-wear, and appreciating the darkness and familiarity of the space (also completely loving the little but powerful airconditioning unit in the summer months). even in the oppressive heat--maybe even because of it, as we were all feeling queasy--the ramen sounded like the way to go, as the broth is a restorative tonic of soy and pork bones, simmered all day in a ginormous stockpot in the front of the kitchen, behind the counter. its murky depths will cure all that had befallen you the night before, my fine son, you can be sure of that (well, that, and um, penicillin, if it was a particularly dubious night).

however, should a hot bowl o' ramen not appeal, daikokuya offers respite in the form of hiyashi chuuka, a cold noodle salad topped with julienned vegetables, pork loin, egg, pickled ginger, and nori, served with a sweetish soy dipping sauce. if the heat's beat you and your appetite down, this is something that will go down well--fresh, light, and healthy. you'll be able to face the rest of the day (and night ahead) after this.

hot daikokuya action really doesn't begin until the sun sets--it's hopping at 10pm and beyond. the dimness of the space becomes a warm, golden beacon in the dark city streets. it is bustling; you walk in and are immediately faced by a full house, and an empty chair that serves as an anchor for a clipboard and pen. add your name to the list, and wait. awhile. don't expect any sort of comfortable accommodation for any group larger than ~~five~~ four; be prepared to be moved to a new space on the counter if you're currently messing up an advantageous seating arrangement.

here is when the ramen is king, but the other items on the menu are equally as satisfying--the tonkatsu pork cutlet is made from the same berkshire pork as the soup stock, oyako don chicken with egg on rice is tender and fluffy, and really, there's no way you can go wrong with a fried item. i'm guessing on that last one. i haven't gone through the whole menu as i find myself returning to the ramen, either traditionally done, or stamina-style (an extra ladle of pork fat, y'all! oink!), time and again. i want to be supersaturated into the grain, and be there until 2019 and beyond.

**

the website says it closes at 11pm or midnight, i've been there are 2am, so...? there's also a note on the site that says that they close when the stockpot is empty, so maybe they really mean it, even if the witching hour as passed. (and i secretly hope that stockpot never really goes empty)

daikokuya
327 e. 1st street
los angeles 90012
213.626.1680.

sweet relief

2006-07-28T03:00:00.000-07:00

frozen grapes, a cheap and cheerful treat for a more tolerable summer. think of it as mini sorbet sacs. or not. i'm just sayin'.

more with the meyer lemons.

2006-07-26T05:40:00.000-07:00

i've been procrastinating over doing anything with the meyer lemon bounty; not so my friend, merry, who so kindly gave me a jar of preserved meyer lemons from the same crop. i don't recall what recipe she used, although, i think it might've been one from marcella hazan, or paula wolfert. i'm hazarding to guess it might be this recipe from ms. wolfert's book,"slow mediterranean kitchen", as she said i could use them after a week (which i haven't, but i will).

preserved lemons are a staple ingredient found in moroccan, tunisian, and algerian cooking, and usually it takes a few weeks before they are ready to be used; however, once preserved, you can keep them almost indefinitely. that is, if you don't use them all up.

here are some recipes to get you started:

yoony's zucchini couscous with chicken, preserved meyer lemon and harissa

suzanne goin's snapper with green rice and cucumbers in creme fraiche, as documented in grant's blog, well fed

jules' take on claudia roden's sweet potato and preserved lemon salad

elise's moroccan chicken with olives and lemons

or emily's version, or perhaps june's version :)

taking the heat at singapore's banana leaf, farmers market.

2006-07-24T23:39:00.000-07:00

(let's just get this confusing punctuation thing out of the way now, in case you'll be doin' some googling later: it's singapore's banana leaf, at the farmers market. possessive singapore, a large group of non-possessive farmers)

i have to say, i like hot summers in the city; there's something intrinsically sexy about it, in a dirty, sweaty, heaving, sort of way. i heart new york's lower east side, during those crazy, sudden thunderstorms that come in the middle of the afternoon, with steam rising from the asphalt, and everything going from yellowy gray to blue gray all at once; london's hampstead heath, with pasty gentlemen sunning themselves on striped lawn chaises on a vast green sea, little children running rings around them, and naughty boys trying to peek into brush surrounding the women's bathing pond; or dc, where the atmosphere is so heavy with humidity that you need to take a shower immediately after stepping out the shower, and the air is as thick as water and you can't breathe....okay, maybe i don't like that so much, but i do enjoy the seasonal heat and oven-like temperatures occasionally. (perhaps it's because i normally live in the equatorial tropics, which is like a perpetual steam bath.)

anyway, on one of the balmier nights, a friend and i headed to the farmers market for dinner, not really knowing what we wanted to eat. we walked by the all the stalls, and somehow, the crowd at singapore's banana leaf beckoned. eating la's pat saperstein is correct in saying that the food at the farmers market is rarely a stellar example of their respective cuisines, but they tend to fare well all the same; sbl is no exception to this. however, the weather, the cramped tables, and the bustling environs really capture the spirit of an asian market stall/street food vendor which only adds to its appeal. we placed our order, and beadily eyed the people who managed to get a table in front of the stall, until a couple finally left and we slid into their seats (yes, they were finished with their meal, and they ignored us, so there was no "go go mojo" going on).

the roti paratha--grilled indian bread served with a vegetarian curry sauce--was first, and it was okay. it was hot off the grill, and generous in portions, but slightly thicker than and not as flaky as i would prefer. the curry sauce lacked heat, but had a nice, mild flavour.

i enjoyed the gado gado, a salad of shredded cabbage, cut (frozen?) green beans, boiled potato, fried tofu, hard-boiled egg and bean sprouts, topped with a warm sweet peanut sauce and krupuk (shrimp chips). the thing that makes or breaks this dish for me is the peanut sauce, and i have to say i do like sbl's version. i reckon the sauce is made with peanut butter, but there are ground peanuts in it as well, which adds to the flavour's richness, along with the sambal belacan (shrimp paste), soy sauce and spices. the vegetables that were supposed to be cooked were the right consistency and didn't taste like they were pre-cooked hours earlier, and the fresh vegetables were crisp and new.

the laksa, a coconut curry-based soup with thick(ish) rice noodles, tofu, bean sprouts and homemade fishcake or chicken (i chose the chicken), was a bit of a disappointment. although the portion was quite generous, i found that the soup itself lacked a depth of flavour, underspiced, and perhaps not made with a fish- or seafood-based stock, which i am used to tasting under all the coconut milk and curry (perhaps it was missing sambal belacan??). i also found the noodles to be a slightly more al dente than i prefer.

the mee goreng, or indian-style pan-fried yellow egg noodles, was packed with onions, chicken, and tofu, but the spicy tomato-based sauce lacked that certain boldness of flavour i've come to expect in really good mee goreng (i'm under some suspicion that the secret ingredient in a good sauce is ketchup, eyuw, but hey, if it works it works), but the abundance of ingredients and relative lack of oiliness make this mee goreng a decent dish.

we capped our meal with ice kachang, a shaved ice concoction with sweetened preserved jack fruit, sweet beans, evaporated milk, rose and pandan syrups. now this was the business, and certainly welcomed on this steamy night. in fact, it was so successful, i believe half the people standing in line waiting for their orders and beadily eyeing us also ordered ones for themselves. good move, but we were so full that we didn't actually move off in a timely fashion to allow the next sweltering and starving couple to swoop in. we were happy where we were, and despite the "eh"-ness of some of the dishes, we'd be happy to return.

singapore's banana leaf
at the farmers market,
6333 w. 3rd street (x-street fairfax)
los angeles 90036.
323.933.4627.

a shady place to sit.

2006-07-22T22:15:00.000-07:00

overheating. possibly overeating, too. i'll get back to you once i cool down. do you have a favourite place to cool off? photos, please!

the trianon

2006-07-18T07:01:00.000-07:00

the trianon, commissioned by the legendary hollywood couple, mary pickford and douglas fairbanks jr, as apartments for actors and actresses in a (then) conveniently located part of the 'wood. it was built in 1928 by noted architect, leland a. bryant, who specialized in luxury apartment buildings, but whose best known work is probably the sunset tower hotel in west hollywood.

french-inspired architecture was popular in hollywood during the twenties and thirties, but as most châteaux and castles were single family dwellings on a grand scale, they were reimagined as apartment complexes. although the building is named after the home of mme. du pompadour in versailles, it was actually architecturally inspired by chateau d’azay-le-rideau in the loire valley. i suppose d'azay le rideau isn't as catchy as trianon. certainly i can't get that damned fleetwood mac song out of my head.

anyway, i digress. the building is still fully occupied (you can live there, too!), and i imagine it to be quite a unique place to live. v. hollywood fantasy. v. hollywood fantastic.

the trianon
1750-1754 n. serrano ave (x-street loma linda)
hollywood 90027.

la maison du pain

2006-07-17T03:25:00.000-07:00

i don't eat a lot of bread, so really, i'm not the one to review a bakery best known for their breads. or, more accurately, a bakery with a dedicated following that probably needs to be better known. i actually came to la maison du pain because i read this la times article about them (you can also read it here without registration), and i loved the story about these two sisters from the philippines with a dream to open a french bakery, and what it took to realize that dream. i found it especially appealing because the bakery is in my neighbourhood, and one of the sisters is also a 'santos'--hey, we might be related.

the bakery is on pico boulevard just east of fairfax, on an unassuming stretch near hauser that has a lot of autobody shops; in fact it is next door to and across from two of them. the shop itself is really quite lovely, with beautiful contemporary wrought iron in front of a large plate glass window, and a lovely light-filled interior that invokes calm over chaos. there are café tables both inside and out, a couple of display cases, and of course, racks of bread. besides several types of baguettes, there are various loaves and rolls, croissants, tarts, and other pastries. when i arrived, they had just put out some freshly baked cinnamon rolls, and i noticed there were some very filipino-looking ensaymada in one of the cases as well.

everything looked quite enticing, and i found the prices to be quite reasonable--downright cheap for some items, i thought. i talked to one of the owners, carmen, who was working behind the counter that morning, despite also seemingly working in the kitchen in back; although completely harried, she was gracious enough to answer my questions about both the product and the shop. carmen said she kept the prices low because she wanted the prices to reflect what the neighbourhood could afford. the la times' article implied they wanted success on a large scale, but i was impressed that they really wanted to establish themselves as a staple of the neighbourhood. in fact, although all the baked goods were lovely, i was most impressed by the clientele in the shop at that moment: a filipino man having a meeting with a latina woman, an older white woman picking up something after her yoga class, a younger african-american man in an impeccably cut suit, slipping a baguette under his arm on his walk home around the corner. this was truly one of the most diverse group of customers i have seen in this city, and i was charmed that it was just down my street.

so what did i think of the product? like i said, i'm not qualified to say, but i enjoyed the almond croissant and bread roll i picked up; whether or not it was 'authentic', i've no idea--yoony, rachael, and hungrysheep all seemed to have sampled more items, and have a better idea of how good such carbo-loaded treats can be. check their entries, and the bakery out.

i will return to the sisters' bakery, whether i'm related to them or not :)

la maison du pain
5373 w pico (x-street s. ridgeley)
los angeles 90019.
323.934.5858.

the return to mr. pizza.

2006-07-15T14:10:00.000-07:00

we were foolish enough to be driving down fairfax avenue on friday night; being in a car on fairfax, on any given day at any given time, is not unlike being a lemming stuck in concrete flowing down a cliff--you're trapped, you're fighting your way out amongst the throng you stupidly followed, and more lemmings are piling up behind you and flailing around like you. friday night at 10pm is no different, except for that someone turned the lights out.

we were hungry; canter's wasn't appealing at the moment, and eat-a-pita had just closed. i remembered my old haunt, damiano's (aka 'mr. pizza'), and felt an overwhelming desire to have their pizza again. i hadn't had it in years--not because it was bad or because damiano's is too far away, but because there really isn't any parking ever, and it would take too long to fight the traffic to get there. damiano's was, and is, open until something like 4 or 6 am, and probably more filled with customers at midnight than at noon. although what time it was in there was really never known as they kept it so dark you could barely see your food, let alone a clock. i spent many an early morning there, eating the giant slices of cardboard thick, slightly charred, substantial pizza with a sour-sweet tomato sauce and incendiary melty cheese. a wave of nostalgia passed, and i made my companions stop.

i lied about the no parking ever, because we found a spot--only two area codes away, whoot! i thought it might be worth it to stop in because i had in my head rather mythologized the pizza there as The Best Pizza Ever™. which of course, could only spell disaster. however, as we walked towards it i was greatly reassured that the storefront was as i had remembered--a propped open door, small window looking into a kitchen you probably don't want to be looking into, a cheapie park bench with random characters sitting on it. none of whom look like they're waiting for their order, and all of them looking like they've been there all day. week. year.

things were looking good. i stopped abruptly at the door, and my dining companion looked at it, startled, then looked at me, then back at it. she pointed. "what? in there? that hole in the wall?" i nodded. she wasn't being derogatory, because the entrance really looks like hellmouth--you can't see anything past the two large drinks refrigerators that hold damiano's vast collection of beers and sodas (101 on the menu i believe, which sounds impressive, but--and it's a big one--they only have one of each. fnarrr). past that is almost pure darkness, save for weak candles on some of the tables, and a dim 20-watt red lantern above that probably doesn't radiate light but sucks it all up (to be fair, it is actually brighter in there than it used to be as the red has faded to a tongue-coloured pink--and by brighter i mean you can almost see what the lantern looks like, but it still doesn't cast out light). why is it so dark? it's not to create a romantic mood, i'll tell you that. it's drafty, there aren't any windows, and you are serenaded by almost ear-splittingly loud jack fm, which i think is the radio version of lad lit/spike tv--guy music. i think the reason for the darkness is so they don't have to redecorate. or clean. although, as far as i could tell, none of the surfaces were sticky or dusty, so i'm okay with that. i plunged into the darkness, with my companions following timidly behind. a waitress immediately stopped us. "hey you can't go in there!" um, but we're coming in to eat. she looked at us like we were nuts and shrugged a "suit yourself" and we slid into the first booth, because it was the only one we could make out.

waitress slapped down some menus (near impossible to read without the aid of the table candle), which is surprisingly large. the food at damiano's is old school italian-american, lots of pizzas, pastas, hero sandwiches, fried vegetables, parmigiana dinners, but there are a surprisingly decent selection of vegetarian and vegan options. although it's not on the menu, and i haven't actually ordered it, you can get vegan pizzas made with a meltable vegan cheese, and apparently they have vegan pepperoni as well (their marinara sauce and minestrone are also vegan, and quite good). we placed our order for a large pizza, and a couple sides of spaghetti with marinara sauce, then kicked back.

...for over 45 minutes. ah, yes. i had forgotten about the service, or lack thereof. there is a reason why i always got my pizza to go, and basically it's because you could wait all night for your 'za (good thing they are open until 6am). we watched a couple sit down, order beers. then we watched them drink the beers. then try to order the same beers, but they drank the only bottles of chosen liquor, so had to order two different ones. then another couple walked in. lather, rinse, repeat. by the time we got out pizza (mushroom, spinach and garlic), the place was full, and we were the only ones with food.

and how was the pizza? not quite as i had remembered it but still close to great--a solid crust, with the sort of heft you find in a good artisanal bread crust, a minimally spiced tomato sauce, just the right amount of cheese, and the barest amount of toppings. this is not an overloaded pizza, but it somehow works perfectly as a whole--the toppings don't weigh it down, and it never gets soggy (not even the morning after). there is something quite compelling about the combination, because most people--including myself--can't stop eating the pie until it's done. it's total pie crack. the pasta was cooked al dente, just a bit salty, and liberally doused with sauce; there's nothing else involved, but the sauce is as addictive as the pizza, so that's all you may want. there are also very good homemade meatballs and italian sausages on the menu, should you want to supplement the gravy, but i'm happy with it as is.

there are no photos of food because it was just so comically dark in there. yet, the wait was definitely worth it, and we walked off more sated than bloated. and still the only ones fed in the joint.

*

i had lunch with bekki, dave and keith a few days later, and keith informed me that some rock star died at damiano's a few years back; i was more surprised that there wasn't more than one fatality there, than the thought that one had died there. we couldn't remember who it was, so a quick search on ~~whodiedatdamianos.com~~ google told us that bryan maclean from love died there one christmas day. yike. well, rock'n'roll cred to mr. pizza, and maybe mr. maclean had a good meal before he went.

update 18 july 06: we returned! and brought back a slice for inspection:

damiano's
412 n fairfax (x-street oakwood)
los angeles 90036.
323.658.7611.

although they are plain, they are quite lovely.

2006-07-14T04:49:00.000-07:00

pistachio almond cupcakes, because nuttiness and los angeles go hand in hand. i adapted a recipe for almond cake i found on david lebovitz's blog, which in turn is a recipe adapted from one used at chez panisse. i used a pistachio almond paste i bought at the ever fantastic surfas, and baked the cupcakes until just golden, about 35-40 minutes. just keep a close eye on the oven.

moist, surprisingly light, incredibly rich and delicious.

brunch at campanile.

2006-07-13T08:34:00.000-07:00

i don't know if i have too much to say about campanile. it's nice, in a large but somewhat cozy space, good food under the direction of chef mark peel, discreet and cordial service, home to its überpopular offshoot, la brea bakery....it's very grown-up, yo, which i don't feel like i am most of the time. however, when you are up to being all grown up and adulty, this is the place to take your friends and family to show them that yes, you are in fact a functioning member of society, that all your food does not come from a drive-through window nor trader joe's, and that you don't flinch at eating in establishments where valet parking is $5.50, and streetside parking is practically non-existent.

to be fair, although it is all starched linens, shiny silverware, and dutiful waitstaff, it does have a rather casual and easygoing clientele, with lots of families, presumably from the nearby hancock park neighbourhood. although, that laid back thing might just be a los angeles thing. my neighbour, larry, is rather bemused that people go to "nice" restaurants in flipflops and t-shirts here. it's true, that describes more than half the crowd during the sunday brunch i attended, but is casual really a bad thing?

the food itself is somewhat casual (at brunch/breakfast anyway)--lots of omelettes and egg dishes, pancakes, french toast, some open-faced sandwiches, some salads. all rather expertly done, with very fresh ingredients. no one shirks their responsibility in the kitchen, and it shows, both in quality and in price (a bowl of granola is $9. nine dollars. ) most of the entrees range from $10 to $15, and you don't get a huge amount of food, but you are well satisfied.

i think i lost my mind momentarily when i ordered a tuna melt sandwich, which was a thin plank of grilled la brea bakery country bread topped with albacore tuna, dill, lemon and caperberries and then covered with melted gruyere cheese and tomatoes. madness, because i know la brea bakery bread all too well--although it is tasty, it can severely test one's mastication ability: hard, hard, hard. although the bread is nowhere near as crazy difficult to eat as it once was (flying shards could take an eye out), grilling or toasting can still give somewhat zwiebackish results. which it did in this case. i think i spent most of the meal testing the strength and control of my forearm muscles, trying to get my ineffectual dinner knife to cut through the plank without crashing into the other tableware and avoiding the rest of the sandwich from flying into the party next to me. good tuna salad, though. caperberries are a nice touch.

my cousin, thud, definitely made the better menu choice with poached eggs on beef brisket, which was described as beef brisket hash on the menu, but i don't remember anything hashy (hashish?) about it. it was just brisket cooked slowly until meltingly tender and falling apart, with perfect roast potatoes, poached eggs and country toast. the country toast is good when it's on the side, and you can sop up all the lovely juices from the brisket.

we decided to split something sweet between us, and picked the fresh strawberry cobbler with cream. the cobbler seemed a little more like a crumble to my cousin, but i don't know. it was a lot strawberries, tossed with a bit of sugar and maybe lemon, and topped with a butter, flour, sugar mixture. with all the strawberries i'd been picking up in ventura, i had already been down this route, and was perhaps hoping for something slightly flashier or different. like their fandabidozy coffee eclairs, cinnamon buns, and sour cherry brioche. alas, it was just a simple cobbler that i hung my disappointment on, despite the fact that it was well made, obviously bursting with fresh fruit and buttery goodness.

which is probably the reason we devoured it.

campanile
624 s. la brea ave,
los angeles 90036.
323.938.1447.

seagulls are the new pigeons.

2006-07-12T04:46:00.000-07:00

parking lot of the whole foods across the street from the farmer's market. it's like a hitchcock film, i tell ya.

'b' is for "better"

2006-07-11T11:11:00.000-07:00

i have had quite a hankering for thai food these days, and decided to try a few of the restaurants in thai town, which is centered on hollywood boulevard in a part of hollywood actually known as little armenia (tell me again that los angeles isn't multi-culti, 'cause i ain't buying it). i've been reading the internets for thai restaurant recommendations and am a little bemused by people's descriptions of some of the restaurants i've already frequented; apparently as an island girl, i've got different standards of what is considered 'dirty' and 'a hole in the wall'. in fact, most of the asian restaurants i've been to with an 'A' health code rating have only been okay; so far the winners have all had a 'B' rating--i suppose in this case 'B' stands for "better." ha. i decided to stick to simon's low end theory restaurant guide as my primer; so far, i've not been disappointed whenever i've consulted it. here are the favourites so far: ord noodle, ruen pair, and yai.

i ended up at ord noodle, thinking i was going to find yai noodle, the sister restaurant of yai cuisine; unfortunately, it looks like the satellite restaurant has shut down, but i was not disappointed by the food at ord. it is a bright, bricky, somewhat arty looking space (i'm told a holdover from whatever resto was there previous to yai noodle--wasn't it a mongolian barbecue place?), with two rows of tables lined on either side of the narrow space. my dining companion and i both ordered bowls of the barbecued duck noodle soup, which could be ordered with a choice thin rice noodles or wider egg noodles; we both chose the egg noodles, which was a nice choice as although they were cooked just al dente, i think they managed to soak up enough of the rich, fatty broth, which was slightly sweet and quite spicy with red pepper flakes, onion and garlic. fresh green onion, cilantro and bean sprouts along with a generous portion of fatty but tender barbecued duck meat topped the steamy bowl of noodles and broth, which would have easily been a perfect sized meal for the both of us.

but no, we had to order more. we added the chicken larb and thai sausages to our lunch order because they were there and they were cheap (less than a fiver each). the larb was a combination of ground chicken meat, stir-fried with red onion, green onion, chili peppers, cilantro, rice powder and lime juice and served hot on a wedge of fresh cabbage. it was spicy, not greasy, but the mostly white chicken meat seemed somewhat overwhelmed by the spices and i couldn't detect the rice powder. it has been awhile since i've had larb as i don't find it particularly exciting, so i'm unsure as to how it is supposed to be served, and are you in fact supposed to taste or feel the texture of the rice powder anyway? no matter, as i found it to be tastier than i had recalled, a sort of cooked meat ceviche. i was far more interested in the order of grilled thai sausages, which were served with raw peanuts, whole cloves of garlic, chopped cilantro, and whole chili peppers. i was unsure as to what to do with all the raw condiments, so i just sort of chopped up the larger bits and mixed them all together with some vinegar to make a rather tasty if chunky sauce to dip the sausages in. the sausages themselves seemed to be rich with pork fat and pork blood or liver, but managed not to be completely overtaken with that...awful offal overtone that some intensively intestinal (intestinally intensive?) foodstuffs can have. just the right amount of richness tempered by the charred casing and herby vinegar.

*

ruen pair is in the same strip mall complex as the old palm thai location (currently undergoing renovation), and the jonathan gold recommended red corner asia, but of the three, i think i'd pick ruen pair as the winner. it's small, cramped and dark, but strangely cheery, maybe because it's almost always packed, and people seem to really like what they are eating. the menu is rather extensive, but the specialty seems to be a green papaya salad with raw blue crab, which everyone ordered. except us. i was with "safe" eaters, so i was restricted from ordering anything undead and too odd. still, we managed to pick out a good array of dishes from the extensive menu.

we started with the spicy combo salad, which was kind of like a crazy antipasto platter filled with sliced salted eggs, preserved ducks' eggs, sliced chinese sausages and preserved/pickled vegetables then drizzled with an onion/chili pepper/garlic-laced vinegar and tossed with green onion and slivers of fresh ginger. tangy, spicy, sharp and mellow all at once. we also had the deep-fried shrimp patties (shrimp and fish meat minced with green onion and bound with corn starch) which were bursting with chunks of seafood but not fishy, and springy in texture, without being tough.

the starters were quickly, quickly followed by kai kua, flat rice noodles stir fried with chicken, bean sprouts and egg, spicy steamed catfish in a red curry sauce with fried basil leaves (not pictured), and a very simply sauteed kang kong (water spinach/convolvus), served with a chili vinegar sauce. all three of these were only slightly greasy, but very fresh, quite generous in portions, and very clean in taste.

*

i think my hands down favourite of the lot--simon's and kirk from mmm-yoso's favourite, too--is yai, which is in a poky little strip mall near the 101 freeway junction. i've read a lot about how absolutely dire the interior is, but i didn't find it dirty or off-putting at all. what it lacks in interior design it wholly makes up for in easily wipeable white laminate, and the bright fluorescent lighting only highlights how very good the food looks as well as tastes (my lovely dining companion begs to differ with me on this point, i can only imagine how horrified he'd be over the interior of my favourite thai restaurants on guam).

we started with a rather refreshing bamboo shoot salad made up of shredded bamboo shoots marinated in a lime, basil, onion, chili dressing. it was clean, crisp, somewhat bracing, and wholly addictive. the fresh lime and chili perked us up on this hot, muggy day, and also awoke our taste buds. i picked a dish off the specials board called gai sapp nok, which turned out to be ground chicken stir-fried in a red curry sauce with basil leaves and sweet peppers. it too was also spicy, and a more interesting relative of the tamely spiced and more common larb.

again, we checked out the barbecued duck noodles, which came "dry" this time (without soup); their version came with a more than generous amount of fragrant roasted duck that was meaty and not-too-fatty and not-too-salty, with thin shards of perfectly crisp and delicate skin attached to the tender meat. the noodles themselves were superb, still with a firm bite, and sauced lightly with a soy-tinged duck broth and finished off with chopped fresh cilantro, green onion, and bean sprouts.

the highlight of the meal for me, however, was the black egg pow, which was at least half a dozen quartered preserved ducks' eggs stir-fried with sweet red peppers, medium-hot green jalapeño peppers, and fiery bird chili peppers, then topped with a tangled nest of deep-fried basil leaves and a sweet soy dressing. the eggs were the perfect base to all the peppers and soy--creamy custard soft, with a little bit of a crunchy crust, with a slight mustiness that only helped bring out the freshness of the basil and chilis. truly excellent. i'll return. soon.

*

also worth seeking out is the fabulous dessert/snacks emporium bhan kanom thai, which has a branch in the same complex as ruen pair. baked goods, a shave ice bar, a hot dessert bar, steamed rice cakes, grilled rice cakes, dried fruit, dried fish, thai bento, pork sticks...the assortment is mind-boggling. here are some photos. check it out, y'all.

ord noodle
5401 hollywood boulevard,
hollywood 90027.
323.468.9302.

ruen pair
5257 hollywood boulevard,
hollywood 90027.
323.466.0153.

yai
5757 hollywood boulevard,
hollywood 90028.
323.466.0153.

bhan kanom thai
various locations, including
5271 hollywood boulevard,
hollywood 90027.
323.871.8030.

update:
more photos of food from yai

17,965 belle & sebastian fans can't be wrong: live at the hollywood bowl.

2006-07-06T23:59:00.000-07:00

simply extraordinary: belle and sebastian, playing with the los angeles philharmonic orchestra, in a sold-out show at the hollywood bowl, along with opening act, the shins.

there are moments in my life i will remember always, and usually they come when i least expect them. i wasn't expecting much from this, but i was compelled to go. from the first minute to the last, it was so good, it felt like a momentous occasion; the shins were the perfect rock'n'roll band--tight, clean, energizing--and belle and sebastian made the most of this unique opportunity with lush, transcendent orchestrations. mr. murdoch seemed genuinely happy and honoured to be there, as did almost everyone else in the bowl. onstage was perfection--all the best of music from everywhere i've ever been, and at any given time. it was like every great concert i'd ever been to in my life combined with every great musician or band i would have loved to have seen encompassed on this one stage. all i can say is that i'm truly grateful to have experienced this perfect, magical moment in time.

well, there was fire. and they worked. sort of.

2006-07-05T11:23:00.000-07:00

it's nice to know that illegal fireworks are a mere county away (only three exits away off the I-10, yo).

hey baby, it's the fourth of july.

2006-07-04T11:55:00.000-07:00

je suis une américain, y'all, but for this independence day i bring you hazelnut macarons with an italian buttercream flavoured with vanilla bean, and topped with fresh raspberries and blueberries. i used clement's recipe almost to a 'T' and found it easy to follow, with successful results. don't be afraid of french cookies, kids!

have a great day whatever you're doing--i will as it's my birthday, toooooo

(i'll be on kxlu tonight from 11pm to midnight PST)

blogger meetup: death in the valley; meet me at the cemetery gates.

2006-07-03T00:36:00.000-07:00

saturday morning was an unlikely meeting of food bloggers, at a very unfoodie location: the fox and hounds pub in studio city, to watch the world cup quarterfinal match between england and portugal. the delicious life's sarah, akatsuki talks rot's bramble and her partner, P, and i met up (immaeatchu's yoony was to join, but she went on to another pub), not to eat, but to ostensibly cheer on england to victory.

well as much as one can at 7.30 am on a sunny saturday in the san fernando valley, where temperatures were already somewhere in the nineties. i believe we all sort of lugged ourselves over there--my beloved swedish vehicle certainly didn't help as it employs a freon-free air conditioning system, which is to say, there are hamsters behind the vents that blow hot hamster breath out to us. no parking, of course (and absolutely no desire to take photos, either). the brambles made their way in, but delicious sarah and i were somewhat taken aback by the all-too-authentic setting of the fox and hounds--the windows were black out, the bar was heaving, the walls were dripping with sweat and ale, and there were far too many people with their faces painted red and white. actually, there were far too many people, full stop--if the pub normally holds 100, there were certainly ~~250~~ 300 there. the publican, a typically expat sort of ray winstone/robert palmer hybrid who you absolutely know wears speedos at the beach, stood watch for the the fire marshal and turned people away. we were stuck in the doorway as literally the last people in, but the heat, the sweat, the fact that our noses were at armpit level of many of the heated, sweaty punters forced us out onto the sidewalk of ventura boulevard before the match even started. of course, sexy beast immediately stood guard and refused to let us back in, so whilst the brambles were stuck in, we were put out.

by rights, though, that's how it really should have been, for as far as footy goes, ms. delicious and i aren't exactly on the same level as the others who had made their way into the fox and hounds. on the scale of devotion, bramble would be at the head of the table, i would be somewhere down in the middle, and sarah somewhere further below. to be fair, though, i think sarah's and my enthusiasm is relatively high considering our interest in the game--hey we showed up at blinking 8 am, didn't we? still, i think bramble was more than horrified when we started discussing the fashionability of the st. george's cross/english flag motif of the team's world cup kit over the union jack (soooo much nicer, don't you agree?).

©2006 bbc

the valley sun was high overhead, the hole in the ozone layer opening wider by the minute, and ms. delicious and i were melting like the wicked witches of the west we probably are. so, bad footie fans that we are, we slipped out for a bit down the street at the 101, where it was blessedly cool and we restored our good humour with a good round of breakfast.

and thoroughly refreshed, we made our way back to the pub, where our high spirits were definitely exclusive to us as apparently the match wasn't going well. nil-nil score, both teams playing rather badly, and key players had been sent off. we slipped in as sexy beast was complaining about two rabid portuguese fans and we were determined to cheer england on to victory.

which, as you know, didna happen. one minute there was absolute joy and hope, and the next silence and tears. in the midst of the crashing disappointment someone quietly said, "it's all over, love" and it was. oh, england! oh, studio city! never have i seen old men and young women weeping in such commiseration before, people so openly stunned and weakened they leaned against the (still sweaty) walls, and crumpled to the floor. my heart, it went out to them, but, but, but....these were english footy fans, surely they were no strangers to disappointment?? i felt cruel stepping over the heaving, inconsolable latino lad who was in a foetal position on the floor, but um, i really needed the loo.

©2006 itv

and i felt the disappointment, i really did, as even though i really knew it would be a difficult road for england to victory, i did think they were in there with a chance. i know the players, i know it was a good(ish) team, i was shocked with the send-off of owen and rooney, and when captain david beckham threw up, i threw up a little. and when he cried, i cried a little. (and when victoria beckham cried...i threw up a little too)

***

later, in the evening, i met mike, maria and baby blogger from franklin avenue at hollywood forever, which used to be known as hollywood memorial park. it's a cemetery, yes, and no, we weren't there to bury the hope of england. hollywood forever is the final resting place of such movieland luminaries as rudolph valentino, douglas fairbanks (both senior and junior), peter finch, mel blanc, tyrone power, and um, johnny ramone. it is also where every saturday night during summer months cinespia hosts screenings of classic movies along the wall of one of the mausoleums. we packed up a light picnic and a blanket to sit on, and joined some 1000+ other movie fans/ex-goths/current hipsters/people who didn't leave the city for the long weekend on the lawn in front of the mausoleum (only one crypt in the way, and no, you don't sit on any graves).

it was, rather surprisingly, a lot more fun than i had anticipated. we arrived at 7pm and saw that the lawn in front of the cemetery was already filled with people waiting in a strange concentric spirally line (get into the middle of the fray to get to the end of the line--i know it sounds weird but it works), and cars were lined up in the middle of santa monica blvd, waiting for the gates to open at 7.30pm. we opted to park on one of the side streets (gower or van ness), and schlep over to the lawn; this turned out to be the better decision as not only was it easier to leave at the end, we also made friends with other people in the line with whom we ended up sharing cocktails and cakes. the crowd is relatively young and hipsterish, but incredibly laid back and committed to the whole endeavour; everyone i've met who was been to one is a regular, and no one shirks the $10 "donation" cinespia asks for at the gate.

the movie that night was "dr. strangelove or: how i learned to stop worrying and love the bomb", which i had never seen before, but apparently a good portion of the people around me had, as they were reciting lines and talking back to the screen, much like a midnight showing of "the rocky horror picture show". if you're truly horrified by rustling sweets wrappers and muttering in movie theaters, this may not be the place for you, but for the most part, everyone is relatively quiet and really there to watch the movie. the sound is fairly good, as are the sight lines (beware the back of the lawn, however, as there is a slope to it), and the choice of movies excellent. a great way to spend a summer saturday night.

did i feel like i was desecrating sacred ground? um. a little. did i think it was a travesty? no. i figure, if someone is buried in hollywood forever, the name pretty much tells you what the place is about: not only all the glitz and glamour, but the invasion of privacy, and the throngs of dedicated fans. for eternity. the audience is still watching.

some tips:

--arrive early as there can be a significant crowd. people and cars start lining up around 6.30pm the gates open at 7.30pm. parking along the side streets of gower and van ness is usually available.

--wear comfortable shoes and clothing. bring a sweater or jacket as it can get chilly at night; as the summer progresses into autumn, the nights will get colder, so you may even want to bring a blanket. bring a blanket, towel, or low beach chair to sit in/on (no "high" chairs are allowed).

--there are restrooms available on the grounds, but no food concessions. schlepping of goods is inevitable, so don't weigh yourself down with too many things unless you know you can park on the grounds.

hollywood forever cemetery
6000 santa monica boulevard, between gower and van ness
323.243.2366.

summer cemetery screenings schedule at cinespia

la cienega farmers' market.

2006-06-30T00:16:00.000-07:00

currently my favourite farmers' market is the one at la cienega and 18th street, held on thursday afternoons from 3pm until 7pm. it's not very big, but it manages to have whatever i need, from organic produce to beautiful flowers, along with jars of local honey, freshly baked breads and pastries, handmade tamales, even locally made peruvian food. i am mostly curious over the kiosks with giant grills featuring louisiana-style cajun hot links, tacos al carbon, and my new guilty pleasure...

...the bacon-wrapped hot dog. it is as the name states, a hot dog wrapped in salty, fatty bacon, then grilled until well-browned and almost crispy, then served on a sesame bun with grilled onions and green peppers, along with tomato ketchup, yellow mustard, mayonnaise, and grilled fresh jalapeño peppers.

there's no point in trying to be a purist about this--wherever you may get it, some 'dogs may be better than others, but they are truly just hot dogs, wrapped in the fattiest, saltiest bacon possible, and the ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise actually improve the flavour of the whole debacle. cuts through the fat and grease. this one was particularly good because the onions were grilled to sweetness, and the jalapeño peppers still had a bit of crunch along with the spicy bite. the bun held together well, and there was at least half an onion and half a green bell pepper atop the porky log. mmmmmmm. i wonder how many of these i can eat without giving myself a coronary. i wonder if i can find one in tomorrow's marketing expedition....

white fuzzy flowers can be nice.

2006-06-29T23:52:00.000-07:00

gypsophila from the la cienega farmers' market, on la cienega and 18th street, los angeles. thursdays from 3pm until 7pm.

more for the lemonheads.

2006-06-28T18:54:00.000-07:00

yet another harvest--this time meyer lemons, which are a cross between lemons and mandarin oranges. these were some of the most orangey ones i've ever had, which makes them so very refreshing in my summer quenchers.

i was pfaffing about in the kitchen this afternoon, and found that a mix of meyer lemon juice, fresh crushed strawberries and ginger ale make a particularly enjoyable repast; an ounce or so of pimms in the glass makes it even moreso. i do have some ketel one vodka and hendrick's gin in the cupboards, though. might have to do a little more experimentation.

every day is (not) like sunday.

2006-06-27T17:16:00.000-07:00

sunday was eh on the warm front, but undelightfully muggy and gray. by the time midday had reached it was nothing short of oppressive--the sort of summer sky i associate with the midwest and midatlantic--browny gray sky, humidity hanging heavy in the air, and a listlessness that is infectious.

still didn't stop me nor my friends bekki and dave from venturing downtown to the warehouse space of little radio, where eskimo hunters, the tyde, and dios were set to play (as were the willowz but they pulled out, due to every rumour in the universe including someone quit the band, someone walked out of the band, they all walked out of the band, they're all in a new band).

in between sets there were several inflatable wading pools, a slip 'n' slide, and bouncy castle set up in the parking lot, along with a dj booth, barbecue pit and bar. it was sort of amusing watching all the hipsters (or hippies?) lounging around the astroturf thrown on the pavement that was probably giving them nasty rug burns; everything and everyone was far less glamourous than one imagines the In The Know to be and had that stinky, sinister edge that american apparel adverts have that turns me off, but others on. still, no one called me out for being Unlike Them, so props to you, my chilled out hippysters. or maybe i look unwashed.

the music was good--i especially enjoyed the tyde as they sound much like one of my all time favourites, felt, by way of oxnard, that sort of summery jangle pop with a noodly organ and bit of pathos thrown in via the lyrics. but dios was interesting, especially the drummer; he was Dramatic with a capital 'Melodrama' and powerful (dios, btw, is being sued by ronnie james dio for so-called copyright infringement on dio's name; such a crock of poo paté i tell you, but i think the band now may be called dios malos because of it). can't explain the music, i was too busy watching the drummer. however, the most interesting thing about the shindig was the strange bouncy jousting platform where people hit each other with giant padded q-tips in order to win a pair of radiohead tickets. or maybe they did it because the heat, sweat, and alcohol just really made them a little loco.

why do you come here? and why-huh-hi-huh-hi-hi-hyy why do you hang around?

as it did to me, as i agreed to go to hollywood to the smiths/morrissey convention at the music box. maybe it was the sun, maybe it was the jousting, maybe it's because i still have a greek-issue 12" of "bigmouth strikes again" autographed by the mozzer himself, but i was rather excited to go. maybe i just wanted to be taken out that night, where there's music and there's people who are young and alive....i was slightly bemused that i got the equivalent of an all-access/backstage pass to this thing (courtesy of bekki, dave, the lovely sarah and the very cool lawrence), but somewhat relieved as i didn't want to seem like the oldest, most tragic person there--if i was backstage i could pass for a roadie or something. shyness is nice, but shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life you'd like to. (it's starting already)

i'd never been to the music box theatre (i think it's known officially as the henry fonda theater now), which was once a movie house, then in my day was mostly a venue for dramatic plays, but has hosted music gigs and special events lately. it's a fantastic building, a sort of ornate spanish colonial style that was prevalent in the late 'twenties. it's relatively small, they've ripped out all the seats, but kept the elaborate facade around the stage which makes it a good-sized, good-looking venue for gigs. the thing i like the most is the patio directedly behind the marquee, and overlooks hollywood boulevard.

however, the absolute best thing about the gig was that besides a small handful of people, the entire audience was latino. i know the whole mexican-morrissey thing is a well documented phenomenon, but having never actually seen it before, i was well and truly agog. the entire audience was made up of latinos of every age, social background, and belonging to every group--i saw well-turned out black coiffed rockabilly boys and 'forties era turned-out girls, gangsters, emo boys, mothers with their mozzer-dressed babies (!), whole families together in their support for All Things Morrissey. fan-bloody-tastic, or should i say ¡que maravilloso! i didn't feel the least bit out of place, even though by rights the only person who truly belonged was the young boy crouched by the garbage can, alone and uncomfortable. morrissey himself would have approved of such isolation and antisocial behaviour.

i wouldn't exactly call it a convention, as there were just a few tables with smiths/morrissey related merchandise, and another selling merchandise for red lightning, a band fronted by alain whyte, guitarist for morrissey's current band; red lightning also performed, along with the ever so fantastic mexican-fronted smiths cover band, sweet and tender hooligans. which i would love to talk more about but i may have had a trancendental experience at that point, i don't know. if a double decker bus crashes into both of us to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. or maybe not. still, the light never goes out.

also, there was a morrissey lookalike contest, which i didn't watch, but perhaps this guy should've won. i'm not sure what they were looking for--mozzer then or mozzer now? because frankly, he looks like a gentleman irish farmer these days. as does fake morrissey above, come to think of it.

¡oye, esteban!

ah, mister stephen patrick morrissey, never fear--you will always be loved. at least in southern california. as for me, nothing's changed, i still love you, oh, i still love you...only slightly, only slightly less than i used to, my love.

¡viva la moz!

supreme at night.

2006-06-23T10:00:00.000-07:00

skate shop supreme on fairfax avenue, los angeles.

lemony goodness.

2006-06-22T11:54:00.000-07:00

two successful by-products from the first lemon harvest: a super lemon zesty curd and a basil-lemon peel sugar crusted french lemon pound cake. the lemon curd recipe is very basic, just egg yolks, lemon juice, butter, sugar and zest, and the pound cake recipe based on the french "quatre quarts" (four fours--equal measures of flour, sugar, eggs, and fat), with a generous addition of lemon zest, then glazed with a lemon juice sugar glaze and topped with the crazy lemon basil sugar.

i did in fact use martha stewart recipes for both the curd and cake, despite my documented disdain for her recipes; i did encounter problems with the cooking times for both (less for the curd, more of the cake), but otherwise they seemed to work out fine. i can't say i love the curd, but a little time in the fridge seems to have improved the flavour dramatically by intensifying the lemon flavour and mellowing out the egginess. the cake i like more, but i let it sit for 24 hours before trying it. i substituted lemon zest for the prescribed orange zest in the recipe, and i think the lemon sugar glaze compliments the intense butteriness of it. i also love the gorgeous sunny colour of it, and the lemon basil sugar adds an unusual touch.

lemon basil sugar

1 cup of sugar
1 large strip of lemon peel, without the white pith
a few leaves of fresh basil or a scant 1/4 teaspoon of dried basil

chop the lemon peel into tiny pieces, and tear up basil leaves, if you are using fresh herbs. add to the sugar in a small food processor and pulse until the basil and lemon peel has been chopped finely and incorporated into the sugar.

bring 1/2 cup of sugar and the juice of one lemon to a simmer in a small saucepan; take off from heat, allow to cool a bit. glaze pound cake with this while the cake is still warm, then sprinkle the herby sugar on top.

coasting

2006-06-21T11:08:00.000-07:00

didn't go to vegas, ended up just doing a leisurely drive along pacific coast highway from playa del rey (near LAX) north to ventura, which is only about 80 miles, but in a meandering non-freeway -like, highly scenic way.

as the name suggests, the highway runs along the coast, sometimes along inland surface streets, and for a large part, alongside the pacific ocean. you can actually take PCH along most of the coast of california, which one day, week, month i intend to do. (anybody up for a road trip?)

our first stop was for a late breakfast/early lunch on the venice boardwalk. the boardwalk is, as jeanne had earlier commented, a bit of a public carnival sideshow, where everyone and his nudist rollerskating mother comes out to play. there are shops, restaurants and residences that line the boardwalk on one side, with the beach on the other. buskers, leaflet whores, homeless people and tourists hang out almost comfortably together along the walkway, either oblivious or observing each other with that i-am-so-checking-you-out-but-if-you-see-me-
i'll-pretend-you're-not-all-that way that almost everyone in los angeles seems to have mastered. the standard dress code seems to be whatever shows the most amount of flesh you are comfortable with showing to the public ever, even if it's foggy and chilly outside when the rest of los angeles is burning up like the hades that it is. blame the marine layer. and that trinnie+susanna aren't required viewing. shame.

the boardwalk isn't particularly known for its food, but i've always had a fondness for fig tree's cafe. it's right on the boardwalk, with a nice view of the hoi-polloi and the beach beyond from the (almost) wrap-around patio/outdoor dining area. it's relaxed, with plastic furniture and chipped paint, the silverware doesn't match, the dress code is almost as lax as its surroundings, but the food is healthy and tasty. it's a bit hippy to me, but i used to love it for its tofu reuben and one fabulous waiter who was totally unsmiling and unspeaking, but still was always there when i needed him, and he totally coordinated my cappuccino cup and saucer with what i was wearing every time. that is true attention to detail, folks.

we sat outside and had a good view of the sand but not the water (foggy), throngs in thongs, police patrol, and a group of buskers freeform noodling a crazy sitar meditative interspersed with light jazz guitar and surprisingly pleasant west coast sound instrumentals. i was rather dismayed to be met by the host who was wearing--rather strangely considering his surroundings--a suit and tie. what happened to the hippy-dippy blonde bombshells i was used to? also, the waiters were now in uniform (albeit just black tee-shirts) instead of the rather informal i-slept-in-this look previously kept. had fig tree's changed?

maybe so, as the menu was definitely pared down--i don't remember the menu verbatim, but i recall it used to be much longer, with more crunchy granola hippy healthy type offerings. the mushroom nut burger-type food seems to have been replaced with a blanket "we use organic products when possible"-type of healthy, and my beloved tofu reuben--grilled rye bread, saurkraut, russian dressing on a slab of grilled tofu--was gone. crap. somehow the turkey melt really didn't make up for it, neither did the still-on-the-menu cornmeal pancakes, although they did have almost a basketful of fresh blueberries added into them, along with butter and maple syrup.

the sandwich and corncakes were good, but not spectacular, and somehow the charm has gone out of it for me. i don't think healthy food has to mean it all looks like poo on a plate, but sometimes it's nice to know the wheat germ brigade is slinging its soy hash out to the public; apparently they've moved on from fig tree's.

as did we. we went further north past santa (har)monica, beyond the newly renovated getty villa, and into the 'hood of malibu. coastal town. lots of fresh air, sunshine, mountains for hiking and horseback riding, beaches for surfing and sunning, and throngs of celebrities buying up multimillion dollar shacks on the beach. weirdly, one of the least populated beaches in the 'bu is home to one of the most exclusive enclaves of celebrities and hollywood power players: broad beach. well, maybe not so weird, as the public access walks to the beach itself are well hidden amongst the houses on a narrow side road, and the property owners are doing everything they can to keep the riff-raff (eg, ie, aka me) out.

there are two access points, one in the 31000 block of broadbeach road, and another on the 32000 block, about a quarter mile away. just drive slowly and look for small chain link fences with the signs above (although, the gates are almost always propped open so the "welcome to the beach" signs are hidden--sneaky!). parking is free across the street, and the gates should be open from sunrise to sunset.

i imagine the main appeal of broad beach (besides it being uncrowded) is that it doesn't really look like a southern california beach. it looks more like what i imagine martha's vineyard to look like--shingled houses, adirondack loungers, sandy bluffs, dunes, sea grass and tidepools. it always seems to be 10 degrees cooler and breezier there as well, which makes it ideal for walking or running along the shore, rather than sunning and beaching oneself like a whale. also, the water drops off rather dramatically not too far from shore, and the water seems rougher, so perhaps swimming is best left to experts; however, it is rather nice for body boarding and easy surfing on the northern end.

i imagine if you had more nefarious reasons for being there you can probably figure out which celeb lives where with the help of the internets and those maps to the stars' homes they sell on hollywood blvd (snort. good luck.), but although the stars may live there, they don't actually like getting wet or being exposed to the sun. no ozone layer. some of them might melt. however, having said that, we managed to score an environmental extravanganza with a triple sighting of ed begley jr, al gore, and a pod of dolphins about 50 feet from shore (the dolphins, not ed nor al). of course, we were most excited about the dolphins, although the sight of al gore in orange swim shorts and anorak is something i'm not likely to forget anytime soon.

the big rock on the way to ventura, often known as "the big rock on the way to ventura"

having been thus refreshed by a rather brisk walk, we went on our merry little way up further to ventura county, following more lovely beachiness and later into farmland and military installations of oxnard and whatever else is inland. at that point, we decided it was time to head back, but there was literally something in the air that made us make one last stop. ventura is home to driscoll farms and others whose main crop is berries; the air was heavy with the smell of ripe strawberries from the fields that surrounded us.

along the road were numerous roadside stands selling produce and flowers from the farms where they were grown, but we only wanted one thing, but wanted a lot of it. luckily, the first stand we came to had it: strawberries, one flat of 12 baskets for a mere ten bucks. scored and secured, we made our way back into town, and enjoyed the not-so-perfect looking, but very perfect tasting fruit as our evening's reward.

figtrees cafe
429 ocean front walk,
venice.
310.392.4937

broad beach
31346 broad beach road
malibu.

lemony thicket.

2006-06-18T20:55:00.000-07:00

spent the day picking lemons and pruning back the lone lemon tree in my friend cyrano's backyard. we picked over 500 lemons--something like 8 milk crates of citrus.

i'm trying to work up the energy to start sqveezing these suckers, or maybe stocking up on some grain alcohol to make the first batch of limoncello, or perhaps get a gross of eggs to make a gigantor batch of lemon curd.

anybody want some? i'll throw in a batch of some of the homemade lemon goodies.

f*cking clown.

2006-06-17T23:02:00.000-07:00

©2006 julius fernando

the jonathan borofsky statue, ballerina clown, which sits on a mixed use building in venice is a 30- foot aluminum wonder of pure effing terror. nightmare city, baby.

the witch's house of beverly hills.

2006-06-14T01:37:00.000-07:00

no, not where joan and melissa rivers live. the spadena house--known as "the witch's house"-- sits not on a movie lot, but smack in the heart of beverly hills, at the corner of walden and carmelita.

i had heard various rumours and stories about the origins of this house, everything from it being built for a movie version of "hansel and gretel" to it being the creation of a devout snow white and the seven dwarves fan. it turn out that it was built by harry oliver, an art director and set designer for a silent movie studio in the 1920s; they were used as offices and dressing rooms for the lot, then later moved from its original site in culver city to its current lot in beverly hills.

the house is one of the premier examples of what is known as the storybook style of architecture, which not surprisingly, took its inspiration from hollywood sets of the twenties and thirties. defining characteristics seem to be bent and burned cedar shake roofs, small windows, rough hewn beams, dark rooms, and quirkiness coming out of every stuccoed pore. i think you really need to be some sort of fairy tale fetishist to live in one of these houses.

for years the house was occupied, and sat on the corner lot amidst a rambling english cottage-style garden with a crazy wishing well in the front, but now it sits behind a tarped chain link fence, undergoing reconstruction. the new owner seems to be adding some odd gaudí-esque touches to it, along with a tiny bit of art nouveau-ish flare, which only seems to add to its ~~creepiness~~ ~~oddness~~ "charm." although it's not really my cup of tea, i'm rather glad that someone has taken enough interest in the spadena house to restore it rather than tear it down, and so keeping another bit of happy madness alive in the city.

a few more photos on flickr.

volver de méxico.

2006-06-13T11:20:00.000-07:00

wow, my spanish sucks. just returned from a great wedding celebration in puerto vallarta, where i so uncharacteristically left my camera charging on the kitchen counter in los angeles. ¡ay caramba! but thanks to some helpful friends, i was allowed to use their cameras, so hopefully i'll soon have something to show for the past few days away.

thuglife

2006-06-09T22:59:00.000-07:00

venice beach, ca.

late night at lucky devils.

2006-06-08T08:15:00.000-07:00

i find it's always a little bit of a struggle to find good late night food options in los angeles; they definitely exist, and there's an interesting variety available--tofu house for korean on wilshire, the original pantry downtown, daikokuya in little tokyo, to name a few--but i am such a night owl that i feel like i run through my options with alarming speed.

that's why i was happy find a new late night joint: lucky devils. i had just heard about it for the first time on my flight over, on a podcast of "good food", during a segment about great burgers in los angeles (okay, just a quick aside--i really didn't expect jonathan gold's voice to sound like it does). mr. gold recommended lucky devils' kobe beef burger and described it as being in the vein of the much-hyped father's office burger--quality beef, bleu cheese, applewood smoked bacon, onion confit, and arugula on a french roll. mr. gold also amusingly noted that the restaurant is owned by lucky vanous, one of those multi-hyphenated people running about hollywood (actor-model-restauranteur), who is best known as being the hott construction guy in a diet coke advert; vanous, gold said wryly (and still not in the voice i expected), has apparently created a menu that ensures that no one's body will ever look as good as his does.

and that he has. i felt it was only being charitable to check out the burger for burgerhounds reid and pieman's sake, so having found myself meandering through the streets of hollywood late one night, i was rather pleased to find that lucky devils is open until midnight on weekdays (3am on fridays and saturdays; note: the website says it's only open until 10 weekdays, but i'm pretty sure i came in around 11).

the space is modest and modern--concrete and chrome, red walls, and random plasma screens showing random extreme sports images. there's maybe 20 tables indoors, a few outside on the slightly dubious stretch of hollywood boulevard it's on, a refrigerated case filled with various desserts (mostly cupcakes), and what looks to be a dozen microbrewery beer/ale (and one root beer) taps behind a counter. a large blackboard above lists various specials, but the wordy one-page menu throws a few recommendations up on the very top. the menu is solid american fare--salads, burgers, sandwiches, mac and cheese, shakes, beers. shakes with beer (no really--there's a black and tan made with frozen custard and a porter ale that sounds delicious).

one of my companions ordered the chili dog (chili cheese dogs also available), a hefty foot-long beef frankfurter slathered with a slow-cooked non-bean, ground beef based chili, and served with a choice of french fries or green mesclun mix. i was told that the hot dog itself had a good snap and was juicy, but the chili was the star--only very mildly spiced and mildly tomatoey, solidly beefy and hearty.

someone else had the veggie burger, which quite curiously resembled a rare meat burger as it was made from rice, beets, roasted peppers and paprika, then grilled. the result is a rather mildly spicy patty with an almost rare-cooked burger texture. it was served with several slices of avocado and a mild white (cheddar?) cheese, on a butter grilled brioche bun. while the diner enjoyed the unique burger, it was a carb monster, especially when paired with the rather excellent french fries, which were nicely crispy on the outside and fluffy tender within.

i hate to say it, but my photos of the kobe burger didn't turn out. if i return i'll definitely take a photo, but in the meantime, check out kiwichicky's rather excellent review and photos. i wimped out on the bacon cheeseburger, and just got a straightforward burger, which was brought to me somewhere in between medium rare and medium, grilled but not charred, on a bed of a mesclun mix and topped with a nice caramelized onion confit (i think it's described as a chutney on the menu), all on the same butter grilled brioche roll as the veggie burger. i don't eat many burgers, but i rather liked the mild flavour and texture of the kobe beef; in fact, the whole burger, whilst being quite a double-fisted handful, had such a nice balance of sweet onion, peppery greens, butter and beef flavour that i almost inhaled that thing down. i really would have, had i not remembered to stop a bit to really savour the flavour. a very good burger.

we decided to split one of the milkshakes available--sadly, not the black and tan. we ordered the toasted pecan frozen custard shake, which was not so much a shake as a giant blender cup filled with frozen custard and topped with a more than generous amount of choped toasted pecans and whipped cream. it's acknowledged it's not a shake as it came with long metal spoons and not straws. the frozen custard is like a soft-serve ice cream, but with a silky, impossibly light texture that feels like velvet on the tongue and melts almost immediately; that combined with the almost smoky pecans was a simple but truly decadent way to end the meal.

the service was a bit slow, but there was only one waitress with 6 tables to cover, and she was quite efficient (although she seemed more enthusiastic about the beers available than the food). she didn't ask me how i'd like my burger to be cooked, so i assumed it would be medium rare, and was satisfied; the patrons at the table next to me were not, and sent back their meals to be re-cooked. i was rather perplexed by the television screens and the random bits of extreme sports shown, as they seemed completely without a context (maybe vanous is a x-sports enthusiast?) and not particularly conducive towards anything. also, the meal was so enjoyable i think i over-ate, and definitely felt full until mid-afternoon the next day. otherwise, lucky devils was a pleasant surprise in every way. i look forward to another feeding frenzy, although perhaps after a few more laps around the track.

lucky devils
6613 hollywood blvd
hollywood, 90028
323.465.8259.

tallulah tonight!

2006-06-06T16:31:00.000-07:00

i'll be back with señor amor and cyrano on the molotov cocktail hour tonight (tuesday) from 11pm to midnight, PST. join us for a unique blend of exotica at KXLU 88.9FM on your los angeles radio dial, or via the web on KXLU online.

a quick revisit to the 101.

2006-06-06T08:35:00.000-07:00

not me.

i have a predilection towards the 101 coffee shop, so it's only appropriate that the first restaurant i hit in la would be it (although admittedly not by choice--damn you, hungry cat, for not having a table until 11pm!).

quick recap: a faux been-here-forever feel. i should say, it may be manufactured, but it certainly is genuine. oh, quintessential los angelesness! although you are fake, you are very real to me. i certainly feel like i have been coming here forever, and the menu has a very classic diner theme: burgers, shakes, meatloaf, mac and cheese. for the most part everything is just solidly executed and satisfying, not earthshakingly noteworthy, although such consistency in performance is remarkable in itself.

ordered a tuna melt. just tuna and mayonnaise with cheddar on some sort of white country bread, but the right amount of butter was brushed on and the bread was grilled enough not to be charred, but to keep it crisp until the very last bite--that little give to a tender shatter, into a creamy not-too-molten blend of just-the-right-amount of cheese and tuna mayonnaise. here in la, it seems like everyone gives you the salad instead of fries option, which i heartily appreciate; i appreciate it even more as everyone seems to forgo romaine as the new iceberg, and all salads seem to be a nice, peppery mesclun mix.

the indulgence: the purple haze, a seasonal milkshake of fresh blueberries, honey and vanilla ice cream all whirled into a lavender emulsion whose colour mimics the explosion of lilac blossoms around the city. intensely berry-flavoured and filling.

the sign above, it reads "it's time to stay." *sigh*. perhaps it is.

the 101 coffee shop
6145 franklin ave
los angeles ca 90028
323.467.1175

minutes away.

2006-06-05T12:14:00.000-07:00

to get to los angeles from guambat isle, i left on saturday morning, hopped on an aeroplane that took me to honolulu--seven hour flight, plus a three hour layover in one of the coolest airports evah--then i sat through another four and a half hour flight to los angeles in the evening, which put me into LAX at um, five am, but the day before, which means i arrived one hour before i left.

trippy.

and so appropriate for the city of lost angels, the land of la, lala land; it's all good. it's as shallow as everyone says it is, yet it runs deeper than the san andreas' fault. no matter how far, how fast you go forward, you always somehow manage to go backwards, although if you are lucky, maybe you just go back--back into time, whether it's the city's or your own. back when you felt safe, or when los angeles felt safe. but of course, if you do, are you really? and was it ever? people come here to pursue a dream, as the dream exists as reality here. you just have to find it.

so here i am, not exactly pursuing a dream, but rather, happily skipping through one. it's not exactly meant to go anywhere, but hopefully takes me to someplace different, even though it's always somewhat familiar. what's nice about los angeles is the dream:reality distance is not particularly far.

case in point: franklin canyon, a mere ten minute journey from the heart of eurotrashy champagne wishes and caviar dreams, rodeo drive. high above the stink of bijan, paris hilton-wannabees (and paris hilton-unfortunatelyis), and the blinding bling-bling, lies 605 acres of woodland and chapparels in the geographic center of los angeles between beverly hills and the san fernando valley. not a palm tree nor celebutante in sight. after a rawther hollywood morning of egg white-only omelettes with vegan cheese and turkey bacon (somehow in los angeles, if you are a vegetarian, bacon doesn't count as meat) consumed poolside (okay, koi-pondside) in the hollywood hills, and feeling rather glamoo, i thought i would commune with nature and head into the canyon.

gorgeous, and so not like what you'd imagine la to look like (but it does, sometimes, some places). sycamores and oaks tower over the dense grasslands and sprawl of wildflowers, wood and mandarin ducks swim contentedly on the reservoir and splash along in the delightfully named heavenly pond. i can't be sure, but the ponds look like they are filled with suspiciously asian-origined fish, steely grey skinks scuttle past, and please ignore the fact that it is rattlesnake season (just avoid the tall, dry grass). holla, owl! there are trails that lead up the mountains to the summit of breathtaking views of beverly hills, century city and beyond; you can walk down through the brush to the banks of reservoir, which nature has happily reclaimed.

even though it is the epitome of rustic idyll, the canyon's history (and particularly the reservoir) is tied to the intrigue of the california water wars and the surrounding controversy upon which the city is built, both literally and figuratively (see "chinatown". no really, it's great.). in 1914, william mulholland, water engineer and undoubtedly an architect of City As Is (hear frank black. no really, he's great.) and the DWP (department of water and power) constructed two reservoirs in the canyon as a part of a vast water delivery system to bring water in from over the valley into the city of los angeles, which was (is) basically a desert by the sea. later, the works progress administration (WPA) built a flood control dam along with a series of culverts and walls in the upper reservoir to help prevent erosion and surface contamination. however, by the seventies, the two reservoirs were deemed unsafe, and restructured into one larger containment system in the lower portion that remained in operation until the eighties, when it was--with the help of many private individuals and environmental organizations--deemed a conservation center and public park, and effectively 'turned back' to nature.

oh hoo ha, listen to me, like i really know what was going on. this site has the best history of the reservoir/lake i've read so far if you want the full story. i do know that the title sequence of "the andy griffith show" was filmed there, along with episodes of the original "star trek", "bonanza", and claudette colbert's hitchhiking scene in "it happened one night".

so here i am, making my way to the water's edge. c'mon along.

franklin canyon
2600 franklin canyon drive,
beverly hills.
310.858.7272.

omigod.

2006-06-04T16:40:00.000-07:00

my neighbours just ululated!

2006-06-01T04:41:00.000-07:00

radio on.

2006-04-05T05:42:00.000-07:00

my lurvely friend dave newton, (ex- of mighty lemon drops and fonda), will be guest dj'ing tonight, wednesday the 5th (4-5-06!), on little radio, from 6pm - 8pm. don't know what to expect, but he says he'll try to "make it 'a night to remember' like Shalimar once said!" dj dave in da house, y'all.

4 things: the LA edition

2006-03-07T06:07:00.000-08:00

i've been tagged by the lovely maria from franklin avenue for the 4 LA things meme, a variation on the '4 things' meme which i secretly wanted to be tagged but haven't; anyway, this is better!

Four Jobs I’ve Had In My Life in LA:

clerk at texas records in santa monica
deejay at KXLU (listen to the molotov cocktail hour, it's still on!)
door person/bitch with the VIP guestlist at neely o'hara's (a '70s-inspired club in the mid-'80s--seriously waaaaaay before its time)
intern at enigma records in (gaaah) el segundo

Four Movies About LA I Could Watch Over And Over:

Four Places I’ve Lived All Over L.A. (With Food Memories From Each):

mckay residence hall at loyola marymount university in westchester (that's near the airport); i managed to get out of buying the mandatory meal card, but i still ended up eating a lot of burritos at the lair, in the student union. and burritos from campo's. mmmm, that chile relleno burrito was freaking awesome.
random apartment building behind the travelodge/denny's on century blvd, LAX. basically an off-campus dorm, everyone was from LMU. my roommate, tricia, introduced me to the wonder that is trader joe's. our weekly shopping list was pretty much the same: applesauce, granola, cheap cheese, tortillas, juice, peanut butter filled pretzels. college life! at that time, tj still was a clearing house for test products and one-off production runs; the best thing that came out those odd products was definitely the dark chocolate covered strawberry ice cream dove bar. deeeeelish.
condo on 8th street, behind the mutual benefit life building, mid-wilshire. i have no idea what that building is called now, but it was where the offices of dirt, boy version of sassy! magazine, were. food was fantastic then, that whole '80s emergence of great california chefs: mary sue and susan at border grill on melrose, then the late, great city restaurant (chicken mousse stuffed canneloni, fried sage), evan kleinman at angeli (the best panzanellain the world,tonno verde-like an italian niçoise ), michel richard, wolfgang puck, joachim splichal....can't think of the rest, but that's a pretty good list. loved mandarette on beverly (lion's head soup, tofu with century egg), but also ate at the beverly center a lot: mon kee west, kisho-an (sesame chicken karaage), irvine ranch market (forerunner to bristol farms, surely), viktor benes bakery....hey it was the '80s! conspicuous consumption!
current flat, kabbalah heights, beverly hills adjacent. everything farmer's market: soft shell crab po'boy at the gumbo pot, early morning cappuccinos, pecan and butter slathered belgian waffles at that waffle place that used to be in the middle, kitty doughnuts at bob's. oh, great thai food at thai house on pico and of course, cuban food from versailles.

Four LA-Themed Shows I Love(d) To Watch:

gidget
robbery homicide division-the most realistic looking la show, imo.
mv3-okay, it wasn't so much la-themed but la-based--it was one of the first video shows on, with crazy pogo'ing la teenagers. heavy emphasis on british new wave. i swear, it's one of the reasons i moved to la. sad.
it's like, you know...-i loved everything about this, especially that they shared their fascination with high-speed chases with me.

i'm starting to get into the closer more and more....and i'm probably the only person who's looking forward to watching heist. which means it will get cancelled after four episodes.

Four Places I Would Vacation At In LA:

winter weekend in downtown la: i'd stay at the biltmore, have the buckwheat pancakes and cheese omelette at the original pantry, take a stroll down olvera street, spend a few hours at MOCA or the library, then lunch at grand central market. back to the downtown standard rooftop bar for sunset drinks, dinner at ciudad, ice skating at that downtown on ice (no, it has nothing to do with meth!), and maybe back to the standard for a late night movie projected on one of the neighbouring buildings. end the night with a bowl of ramen at daikokuya. sunday i'd go the mass at the cathedral of angels, then dimsum brunch in chinatown, and spend the rest of the afternoon taking photographs of the old theatres, the fantastic mexican accordian shops, the bustle over at santee alley. i'd end the day by buying a couple of french dip sandwiches at philippe's, some tapioca pudding, and hopping on a train out of union station :)
spring in hollywood: i'd stay at chateau marmont, in bungalow #1. i'd had breakfast at the 101 coffee shop, then go to the hollywood farmer's market and pick up stuff for a picnic later at griffith park, above the observatory, at dante's view, or if i'm totally out of shape, just at the berlin forest. or ferndell. i'd then go to a movie at the arclight, go to grauman's and look at all the footprints in the cement and hang with the tourists who are just discovering how grimy hollywood boulevard really is, maybe have a fast game at lucky strike. i'd then have the garlic clam pizza at miceli's, head to mashti malone's for some persian ice cream for dessert, buy a couple dozen cds from virgin or tower to play while i indulge in some moonlight swimming back at the chateau.
summer in santa monica: i'd stay at the casa del mar, just because i've been curious about that building for forever. i used to walk by it almost everyday and just imagine what it must have been like when it was a beach club in the 1930s. i'd walk to figtree's café on the venice boardwalk, where my favourite waiter in the entire world works--he's casual but professional, he's helpful but doesn't hover, and best of all, he totally coordinates my coffee cup to my outfit. they have a great tofu reuben, too. i'd do some window shopping on abbott kinney, then walk down the boardwalk back to samo, to the pier, where i'd spend most of the day just taking photos and people watching. i'd have dinner at ocean avenue seafood, or maybe the lobster. the next day i'd go to the getty, and take a long drive up the coast to ventura.
autumn in the south bay: oh what the heck. why not. i've never been to catalina, it's been a long time since i've been to belmont shores in long beach, disneyland, or the aquarium at san pedro. and when was the last time you shopped at south coast plaza?

Four LA-Based Websites I Visit Daily:

Four Of My Favorite Foods Found In LA:

lamb french dip at philippe's
apple sushi at hirozen gourmet
tamales at gallego's
the chocolate chip danish at J & T bread bin in the farmer's market. honestly, i don't know how they do it--everything tastes a little stale even though it's fresh out of the oven. call me crazy, but i love the stuff from here, from the raspberry hamentaschen to the lurid green pistachio bundt cake.

Four Places In LA I Would Rather Be Right Now:

hanging out mid-city with cyrano
hanging out in burbank with bekki and dave
hanging out in the hills with my cousin, normal
hanging out in my flat that i haven't been in in over a year!!!!

sniff. i miss la.

Tagged:

tokyoastrogirl
yoony
bramble
any and all la food bloggers!

thanks maria, that was fun!

fish and chips at ye olde king's head.

2006-03-06T05:49:00.000-08:00

i have to admit that during my college days, i was more of a king george habitué, but if my roommate and i were going to do a pub crawl, we'd technically have to go to another one; the only other pub in santa monica was king's head. king george is long gone, but the king's head seems to be going strong.

as far as pubs go, this has probably got to be one of the best located ones in the world, one block away from the pacific ocean and the santa monica pier. however, once you walk in you can almost forget that you are in sunny california, and are back in ole blighty, with its lack of light, dark floral carpet, and dark heavy furniture that give it a batty aunt milly's parlour feel, but in a familiar and comfy sort of way.

...'ole blighty'? i have never used that phrase before in my life.

anyway, after a brisk walk down the pier and a lot of dawdling, we were hungry, and thought that fish and chips would be a great way to warm up from the chill in the air; we headed to the adjacent restaurant, which for some reason reminds me of a ex-pat sort of place (which is exactly was it is)--lots of anglocentric photos and memorabilia against beige stucco walls, hiding the mexican/spanish bones of the space. i can imagine king's head or king's head clones in lanzarote, marbella, costa verde--a hangout for homesick brits the world over.

to be honest, i don't think i've ever ordered anything else on the menu; there is typical brit stodge--shepherd's pie, bangers and mash, scotch eggs, steak and kidney pie--but because it really is in california, there's a decent selection of salads, sandwiches, and a couple of half-hearted vegetarian entrées as well. the f&c comes in two sizes--king and queen--but i find the smaller size to be more than adequate. the fish is icelandic cod, and for me, an island girl, it's just bland, bland, bland. however, the fried outer crust is pretty outstanding--light, crisp, and almost 'spun' around the fishplank. the chips are thick cut--not steak cut, and probably frozen--and perfect for sopping up lashings of malt vinegar.

the next time i come here, i'll probably end up ordering the fish and chips again, despite the bland taste. maybe i'll add a side of mushy peas to liven things up.

ye olde king's head
116 santa monica blvd
santa harmonica 90401.
tel. 310.451.1402

2006-01-07T17:49:00.000-08:00

bryan harvey, member of eighties indie band, house of freaks, was found murdered with his wife, kathryn, and two young daughters, stella and ruby. the details are too gruesome to detail. police have arrested two suspects in connection to the slayings.

bryan and johnny were our neighbours at the record label in venice back in the eighties. i would see them on their front steps, playing guitars and talking, always laughing and smiling. bryan would stop by often to chat, and the band played in a big acoustic show we had that turned out to be nothing short of magical for all who were fortunate to be there. admittedly, i hadn't thought of him since those days, but from what i'd read in the news and from what i knew of him, this is a tragedy that should never had befallen him, nor his young family.

rest in peace. the angels are with you.

the dragon at the end of the pier.

2005-12-06T06:34:00.000-08:00

have you seen the dragon and boat at the end of the santa monica pier? do you know its secret? shhhhhhhh. let others discover for themselves.

santa harmonica pier.

2005-12-05T06:00:00.000-08:00

these photos are for reid, because i promised him i'd put some up for him. it only took me a year after i took them :)

i used to spend a lot of time on this pier, because i worked just up on broadway, next to all the old nana's, at texas hotel records (anyone remember that place?). i think it's now a merrill lynch office block. but back in the days when the third street outdoor mall was dying, the santa monica place (pink mall) was new, and like, you didn't want to be walking around there at night, i used to spend all my time down there. there was something magical about the light, the breeze, the fog...and sleepiness. beautiful and decrepit all at the same time.

now of course, it's all cleaned up and gentrified. there's still a large homeless population, but for the most part, the streets are clean, and the place is thriving. however, i'm glad to see that there's still a bit of the loucheness and everyman on the pier. people fishing (!), playing hooky, acting a bit surly, shady, and hungover.

my friend, caroline, recently had her bag stolen while she was playing air hockey. from between her legs. the nerve! secretly, i think the guy was just looking up her skirt, and saw a more profitable opportunity. really, the little amusement park and arcade on the pier could be in the middle of hollywood, it's so suspect.

but the carousel is as charming as ever, and on a bright breezy day, there's nothing like the sun sparkling off the water, and watching the children play in the sand.

i once saw a barefooted miss get a jaywalking ticket in front of the store. i think the police thought she was homeless, so they asked us to vouch for her, so we did. i think of a song that girl that she was once wrote when i look back on these photos:

I draw a jackal-headed woman in the sand,
sing of a lover's fate sealed by jealous hate
then wash my hand in the sea....

Holidays must end as you know.
All is memory taken home with me:
the opera, the stolen tea, the sand drawing, the verging sea,
all years ago.

one year ago today....

2005-11-14T06:14:00.000-08:00

click to enlarge

i took these photos of the cavalia tents a year ago today, in santa monica.

chinatown is in the details.

2005-08-23T23:43:00.000-07:00

more chinatown photos.

nobody somebody walks in la

2005-05-19T04:07:00.000-07:00

lisa left her house in echo park on sunday and doesn't intend to return until she's walked throughout all of la--and she wants you to join her!

walk la with me