Recently in Dining Category

I love many things about Los Angeles, but I can't say I'm a big fan of the early-bird schedule. Once 7:30 rolls around, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who hasn't eaten dinner yet (or at least already made plans to). Imagine my unhappiness then Friday night when dinner plans had fallen through, leaving me high and dry at the witching hour of 9 PM. In New York, this would barely be a problem. It's practically the norm to eat after ten. In LA though, I was S.O.L., which meant I'd have to scavenge my fridge for nourishment. It was looking like Friday night was gonna be spent alone with a slice of leftover quiche and perhaps some tears. However, I was saved in the eleventh hour (almost quite literally) by my friend Tony C (of Sinosoul), who said he'd be willing to dine with me if I gave him an hour or so to drive back from the depths of Fullerton, CA. Oh glorious developments. Not only did I have someone to have dinner with, but I knew I'd be in store for some fun Asian grub as well. And that's kind of my favorite grub.

My old friend IndianJones came into town this past weekend, and on Friday night, he announced that he wanted to try some of Los Angelee's banh mi offerings. For those who are unaware, banh mi are Vietnamese sandwiches that are revered for their bold flavors and simple ingredients. Best of all: the sandwiches can usually be purchased for not much more than $2. Cheap? Flavorful? Asian? I'm so there.

I'm something of a banh mi novice; so I turned to my foodie/Vietnamese friends for some recommendations. Pam (a.k.a. Daily Gluttony) at Rants and Craves suggested Banh Mi My Tho (which had strong reviews at Yelp), Cathy from gas•tron•o•my recommended Saigon's Sandwich and Bakery, and Jenny from, well, this blog insisted that we go to Lee's Sandwiches.

Ultimately, we decided on Banh Mi My Tho -- mostly because it was closest, and it had the highest Yelp score. I do plan, however, on trying the other two banh mi spots at some time in the future. In the meantime, check out the exciting trip IndianJones and I took in search of this mystical sandwich after the jump...

"I'm a Master, y'all!"

The cast hasn't been announced yet, but according to my friend, the very reliable Katherine Spiers, local Los Angeles chef Govind Armstrong (Table 8, 8 Oz. Burger Bar) will be one of the contestants competing on the upcoming season of Top Chef: Masters. We don't know how well he'll fare, but as long as he simply serves up that famous braised short-rib grilled cheese sandwich of his, I'm sure he'll waltz right into the winner's circle...

More information here.

My dearest friend Sly emailed me last night to see if I wanted Korean food, and far be it for me to turn her down. After all, her company is ever so charming, and even more importantly, I'm a fiend for Korean food; so really it was a win-win situation for me. Throw Bets into the mix, and we had the makings for a raucous evening out (even if there was inevitably a sheer lack of raucousness). Nevertheless, we soon had to decide on a destination amongst the various offerings in Los Angeles's Koreatown neighborhood, and feeling adventurous, I proposed we go to Ondal 2 (or On Dal 2 -- the spelling varies). I had never been to the restaurant, whose speciality is a crab hot pot, but I had once read about it in the Los Angeles Times back in 2007 and had wanted to try it ever since (I even went so far as to email the author of the story to ask for the restaurant's street address, which had inexplicably not been published initially).

For two years, every time I proposed dinner at Ondal 2, I never had any takers, but thankfully last night, I finally generated interest in the spot. Sly and Bets both seemed game for something new; so we trekked down to a quiet stretch of Washington Boulevard and entered the unassuming restaurant. As soon as we stepped inside, the intoxicating odor of crab (not to mention Windex as one server rigorously wiped down a nearby table) filled our noses. We knew then that we were in for a memorable dinner...

As promised -- albeit a day late -- here are some more photos from Thanksgiving weekend. There's not much of a narrative flow as I opted not to photograph every single moment, but the pics were amusing; so here they are. Be warned: there's an excessive amount of IndianJones on display.

This past weekend, Tony C from Sinosoul gathered several food bloggers together for what promised to be an epic paella feast of massive proportions. I'm not a huge paella person, but the experience seemed random and fun; so I threw caution to the wind, recruited Sly to be my partner in crime, and headed down to the rather industrial trappings of Harbor City for an afternoon lunch of golden rice and savory proteins.

Photos of this adventure after the jump...

The other day, my friend Howie announced that the Artisan Cheese Gallery would be serving his self-created sandwich vision, simply titled "The Howie." I had no idea what the Artisan Cheese Gallery was, but after some thorough investigation (ie. reading more than the first line of his email), I discovered that it was a neat restaurant / gourmet shop in Studio City that's been throwing some sort of sandwich making contest on Twitter. Anyway, Howie submitted his concoction (hence "The Howie"), and on Saturday it was featured on the restaurant's menu to wide acclaim. I unfortunately was not able to partake in the festivities, which was most sad not because I wanted to support a friend, but because the sandwich looked really, really good. How good? Well, it's roast beef, gorgonzola, and caramelized onions on a ciabatta that's gone through a panini press. Oh, and it's served au jus. Needless to say, I was most bummed to have missed it.

However, when Howie revealed via Twitter that the sandwich would be making a return appearance today, I knew I couldn't let the opportunity pass. I zipped over the hills, met up with Howie and his friend Nick, and headed over to the Artisan Cheese Gallery. The experience was remarkable. I cannot extol the virtues of Howie's creation widely enough. It was totally delicious, thanks in large part to the Artisan Cheese Gallery, which crafted each sandwich with extremely high quality ingredients. I'm not endorsing this sandwich because Howie made it. I'm endorsing it because it's just awesome.

And of course pictures after the jump...

This enrages me. The lovely Liz at Food, She Thought sent a simple email to the publicist for Kogi's Taco Truck (a Korean-BBQ-on-wheels thing here in Los Angeles), and the response was absolutely outrageous. Even if everything this PR person had said was true, there's no good reason for he or she to have actually said it. Memo to publicists: when you have to do damage control for your damage control peeps, that's a bad thing.

Check out the ridiculousness here.

I don't know how it was for the rest of the country, but the weather in LA this past weekend was fantastic, and what better way to enjoy the sunshine than by stepping out and taking a hike? Inspired by a recent post in LAist about hidden staircases in Hollywood, I recruited two fellow hoofers — Lisa Timmons (of Socialite Life) and Bets — to join me as we explored the nooks and crannies of Beachwood Canyon, an area populated by mansions and hidden paths. The journey covered 2.1 miles of territory and over eight hundred stairs total; so as you can imagine, we worked up quite the appetite (not to mention sweat). Pictures of the adventure, including our delicious post-hike lunch as well as a significant double celebrity interaction (ooooh!) and a car wreck (ahhhh!), after the jump...

OH REALLY?

Last month, I dutifully dropped ten people from Facebook with the promise of receiving a free Angry Whopper from Burger King. Much to my shock, when I had completed the deed, I received a message saying my gift certificate would be arriving in two to four weeks. I wasn't happy with the lack of instant gratification, but nonetheless, I've sat here quietly, checking my mail excitedly (seriously) every day for the past two weeks. Well, tomorrow marks the four week anniversary of me earning my Angry Whopper stripes, and I have yet to receive my gift certificate. WTF? Seeing that the Angry Whopper is being touted as merely a "Limited Time Only" item, I will be quite, quite angry indeed if this burger disappears before I get to redeem my coupon. Cosmic justice for dropping friends from Facebook? Perhaps. I like to think of it as corporate malfeasance. Maybe even fraud.

You owe me, BK. You owe me.

Sacrifice #9: It's none other than Sherayay from The Real Housewives of Atlanta! And who better to go down in flames than the genius behind She By Sherayay? Well, actually, I can think of one more deserving person, but that won't be revealed until tomorrow. I suppose I could tell you today, but that would be like throwing a fashion show with no fashions. And how the hell are you supposed to do that?

In the meantime, let's hope that Sherayay doesn't take this fiery dismissal too harshly. At least she'll still have that big ol' house to live in. OH WAIT.

Last week, my friend IndianJones made a random pop-in at my apartment and expressed a desire to consume spicy food for dinner. Where else to go but Jitlada Thai Cuisine, a local Thai restaurant that has made a name for itself as being one of the spiciest — if not the spiciest — restaurants in Los Angeles. I had only gone one prior time, and that visit ended with me literally emerging from the restaurant looking as if I'd just run a half marathon. Yes, I was a sweaty mess, but it was quite delicious. I'd been hankering to go back ever since, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. But would the second time bring beads of sweat anew? Pictures after the jump...

Local Los Angeles dining institution Canter's Deli celebrated its 60th Birthday today, and in honor of this milestone age, the owners scaled back prices to 1948 levels. Specifically, that meant lucky diners could get a corned beef sandwich, pickle, side of potato salad, and ruggelach for a meager $.60. That's right. Sixty cents. Never one to turn down such cheap food (especially from an establishment whose sandwiches can be shockingly pricey), I happily sauntered down to the Fairfax district to partake in some discount eats and Los Angeles history.

I kind of expected a long line, but much to my surprise, there were only about twenty or people queued up, pining for entry into the vaunted delicatessen. Even better, it turned out all these people were in the to-go line. I moseyed on up to the front, spoke to the host, and promptly nabbed at seat at the counter, all in a blink of an eye. Near free food and speedy service? Sounds like the perfect way to spend the afternoon.

A few pics of the experience after the jump.

A few weeks ago, I headed off to local Middle Eastern restaurant / institution Marouch for the first time to enjoy some hummus, pita, and various other delectable treats from the Fertile Crescent. Joining me in the fun was my old friend and Metromix contributor Katherine Spiers, who for the past two years or so had been goading me into trying this fabled eatery. It was worth the wait. Photos of our culinary adventure after the jump.

ME WANT FOOD.

This past Sunday, the Lametourage (a.k.a. me, J-Unit, Jash, IndianJones, and our out-of-town friend Dan) all hit up local Chinese restaurant Genghis Cohen, and while yes, Jash and I had a very disagreeable incident there on Christmas of last year, the truth is that GengCo is too damn good to be ignored. How good is it? Well, as you can see from these pictures, we attacked the food like a pack of ravished hyenas. It wasn't until after the dust settled that we realized we had made such a huge, huge mess. It's a thin line between civilization and barbarianism, and we straddled it on Sunday.

A few more pics of our boorish feast after the jump...

When it comes to late night dining, Los Angeles has its fare share of offerings; although, truth be told, we could always use more. I can only go to my after-hours haunts so many times before ennui kicks in. That why I'd been so excited to try The Waffle, one of the latest entries in the LA pseudo-diner circuit. The 22-hour restaurant opened earlier this year, and already, it has stirred up quite the controversy in the food-blogging community. Some people love the kitchen's wide variety of dishes; others feel its overrated. There's been backlash, and there's been backlash on the backlash — so as you can imagine, I really didn't know what to expect when I wandered into the restaurant with my friends, J-Unit and IndianJones, this past weekend.

I'll sum it up in one clear, unfortunate word: overpriced.

After a prolonged, icy winter that left Los Angeles reeling in the permafrost of multiple 62 degree days, the sun finally came out this past weekend, sizzling the Southland up to temperatures reaching triple digits. It was, in short, excellent. To celebrate this change (not to mention the impending weekend), my friends and I decided to undergo some change ourselves. No, we didn't become trannies. Instead, we tried out a new Mexican restaurant: The Gardens of Taxco.

By now, at least half the Angelenos reading this post are probably chuckling to themselves as the word "new" doesn't often accompany "Gardens of Taxco." The family-run restaurant has been around since the seventies and has become a mini-institution in its own right. None of us, however, had stepped foot inside this wood-paneled mecca, despite its convenient location. On Friday, we decided that was all about to change. For once, Don Antonio's, El Coyote, and Marix Tex-Mex would have to wait. We were tryin' new Mexican!

Things just aren't getting any better for me on the Los Angeles restaurant scene. One of my favorite higher end restaurants, Bin 8945, is closing down tonight. I first went there on a whim with my friends, J-Unit and Jash. It was almost a year ago — March 2007 — and the meal served as an impromptu celebration to mark the end of our time at TVgasm. We decided to splurge and order the tasting menu with the wine pairings, and needless to say, it was remarkably delicious. One of the best meals I'd had in Los Angeles. And it kept going. At the end of the night, we counted about fourteen courses, and even though that was spread over about three hours, we were, as you can imagine, stuffed.

Of course, the wine left us in a jovial mood, and midway through the meal, we became a bit loud. We raised our glasses to Los Angeles Times food critic S. Irene Virbila several times, often adding a boisterous ode to her good recommendation. "NICE CHOICE, S. IRENE VIRBILA" we guffawed many, many times. It really wasn't that funny, but we thought we were hilarious. Again —  the wine.

Later on, after the place had pretty much cleared out, restaurant owner David Haskell, who had been waiting on us, happily informed us that the entire time, S. Irene Virbila had been sitting at the very next table over. We were astounded. So many emotions coursed through me: I was sort of embarrassed, sort of thrilled, and sort of sad that I hadn't even noticed what the woman next to me had looked like. If only I had known! If only!

On a subsequent trip to Bin 8945 with my parents, the experience wasn't nearly as great. Our reservations had been lost, the dishes were hit-and-miss (oh, but when they hit...), and the service wasn't nearly as strong. Still, I chalked it up to an "off night." I've wanted to go back many times, but alas, I never made it, and now it's shutting down. If it weren't for the strike, I'd head over tonight. According to Eater LA, the restaurant will be serving a special meal, prepared by guest chef MaryAnn Salcedo (a.k.a. Gordon Ramsey's sidekick on Hell's Kitchen). Eight courses, $100 a head plus $70 wine pairing. As S. Irene might say: fun.

Just weeks after having been unceremoniously (and unforgivably) shut down, beloved neighborhood restaurant Cha Cha Cha has been stripped of its exterior charm, thus rendering its facade a blank, white shell of its former self. I guess this is the way rock enthusiasts felt when Nickelback showed up on the scene.

Nevertheless, this was all inevitable, but who knew it'd be so painful? If anyone needs me, I'll be crying in the corner.

Cha Cha Cha in 2005

Back on New Years Eve, my friends and I attempted to patronize Caribbean eatery Cha Cha Cha, but the lines were simply too long for our celebratory timetable. We instead headed down the street to The Boulevard, happy to discover a suitable dining option on such short notice. Little did we realize, however, that this alternative would soon become a permanent solution to our culinary woes. Yes, Cha Cha Cha, one of our favorite local tapas joints, summarily closed later that evening, never to open again. You heard me right. No more guava and goat cheese quesadillas. No more pitchers of flavorful sangria. And no more random sightings of Maggie Gyllenhaal or Ananda Lewis. Cha Cha Cha is done.

The restaurant apparently fell victim to its landlord's myopic vision of an upgrade. According to Eater LA, rumors abound that the space will be used to house a new club, and adding insult to injury, the venue will be run by Art and Allan Davis, the brothers who, with Justin Timberlake, unleashed Chi on Los Angeles three years ago. For those of you who don't remember Chi, let me try to describe it with a few, brief words: awful.

The good news, I guess, is that the original Cha Cha Cha is still open in Silver Lake, but honestly, who wants to go all the way over there? I have better things to do other than wade through a sea of scoffing hipsters and hairy leather enthusiasts. Well, actually, I don't, but that's besides the point. I guess what I'm trying to say is... we'll miss you, Cha Cha Cha. Your sangria will always have a place in our livers.

Now that nearly forty-eight hours have passed since we hit 2008, I've finally summoned enough stamina to string together a post about New Years. It was a relatively good one for me and my friends. We all got drunk, we all danced like idiots, and we all took enough silly pictures of each other that any future political careers may seriously be at risk now. Of course, I wouldn't be a blogger if I didn't share some of our photos; so enjoy our drunken night of revelry, as seen through my oft-used camera.

A sight rarer than the unicorn.

When it comes to dining options on Christmas, the choices are few and far between for the greater non-Christian population of America; however, there is usually one standby whose open doors have become a tradition unto themselves. I'm of course talking about your neighborhood Chinese restaurant, a culinary outpost in a sea of "Closed for Christmas" door signs. Eating Chinese on Christmas is pretty much the de facto alternative dining option on the 25th — so much so that it was even immortalized in that most hallowed of holiday offerings, A Christmas Story.

So surely finding a Chinese restaurant open on Christmas in Los Angeles should be no problem, right? In a city with a rather sizable Jewish population, not to mention two popular Chinese eateries with the seemingly un-Christian names of Genghis Cohen and Mao's Kitchen, a veritable feast of Yangtze proportions would await those of us seeking out the supple flavors of soy and MSG. Or so we thought. This is Los Angeles, of course —  a city that rarely makes sense at any given time.

To those unfamiliar with the latest offerings on Los Angeles's Lazy Susan of fads, one particular sensation that has swept the city by storm has been the Frozen Yogurt craze, helpfully nurtured by Pinkberry and its many imitators. Basically, people have rediscovered FroYo, but this time around, they've taken out the flavoring, added fresh toppings, and convinced themselves that they're now eating health food. I'm not necessarily opposed to the whole movement, but I can't abide by any frozen yogurt shop (or frozen dairy shop in general) that doesn't offer a chocolate option for those of us less health inclined (Pinkberry, it should be noted, has a scant selection consisting of only Plain and Green Tea. Oh, and their signature flavor: AWFUL).

Well, over the past year, dozens of Pinkberry knockoffs have sprouted up across the city, and now, it seems the bubble is at last bursting. One of the first casualties is none other than the miserable establishment, Yogurtpia, which happens to be one of the places I've actually been to. According to Eater LA, the storefront is covered with ominous, brown paper, hopefully signaling the end to this embarrassment of an enterprise. Yes, it's a joyous time for me, as Yogurtpia's unceremonious death fills me with great satisfaction. But why? Why am I so thrilled that a generic yogurt shop has disappeared into the night, never to be heard from again?