April 7, 2014
The first day that I walked into Red Bread was the day that the LA Times ran a photo of the newly-opened brick-and-mortar Culver City store/restaurant on the front page of the Saturday Section, along with an article praising its rye. Not being a subscriber, I did not know this, and all of the bread had been sold out by the time I stumbled in at 2pm.
The next weekend, not being what you call an early bird, I again went in during the afternoon, but there was no loaves of sourdough to be had. No matter, a loaf of Russian black bread was tucked under my arm, and I filled my belly with the best quiche I’d had since Soul Kitchen.
March 23, 2014
Isn’t it so gratifying to find a kindred spirit? When Jessica of Thread and Bones reached out to me for an impromptu brunch while she was in LA, I had just the spot in mind — Gjelina in Venice, the much-hyped, reservationless spot on Abbot Kinney that’s held the food scene in thrall for years.
Over coffees, cocktails, and the clickety-clack of our cameras, under the wary eyes of the desperately hip front-of-house staff, we discussed our paths and passions and Paris — we had both been in the city at the same time and somehow managed not to meet, despite having similar haunts.
To ground the ephemerality of a friendship in its first flutterings of being formed, we had earthy Moroccan baked eggs and sturdy polenta studded with kale and bacon. And cocktails to loosen tongues, bien sur, not that we ended up needing them. We needed another hour or two of meandering through the Venice shops to try to talk ourselves out, and we were still yet unsuccessful. To be continued.
February 24, 2014
Before I left for Paris, I lived a few blocks away from Huckleberry. Somehow, though, I failed to visit until just before I moved away. I’ve been trying to make up for my negligence by visiting nearly every weekend since being back, getting runny fried egg and gruyère sandwiches or duck hash, and trying to save enough room to have a piece of rich salted caramel shortbread for dessert.
It’s a deservedly popular spot, and doesn’t take reservations, so be conscious of the wait if you’d like to eat in. Or, you can be like me and go at an off-time like 2pm. Or! You can get everything to-go and drive the mile or so to the beach and consume your comestibles while wiggling your toes in the sand.
February 17, 2014
So, Animal. Jon Shook and Vinny Dotolo’s dude-food, nose-to-tail, pig-centric restaurant on Fairfax. With those hyphenated adjectives, was there any doubt I would love this place?
I just want bone marrow to be on all menus forever. Also fried pig’s ear. I suppose Animal’s popularity — and therefore its influence — is helping push that dream closer to reality territory.
Also? Animal is one of the places where I regret California’s foie gras ban the most. Short rib poutine is divine, if unpicturesque, but damn would it be spectacular with some seared goose liver under all that gravy.
435 N Fairfax Avenue
Los Angeles, CA 90036
Music to eat by: Them Shoes [Patrick Sweany // Every Hour Is A Dollar Gone]