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.
December 10, 2013
There is a lot of hype going on around Wolvesmouth, the LA underground supper club / “culinary happening” that’s so fucking hip that it had a residency at the Santa Monica Museum of Art. It’s easy to see how Wolvesmouth could be passed over as overly pretentious bull. It’s one of the hardest tables to book in LA (probably even moreso than Trois Mec, due to high demand and its curated lottery system). The locations is secret, and you don’t get directions until the morning of the dinner. The plates themselves often look like Jackson Pollock paintings.
I am here to tell you: Wolvesmouth, both the experience and the food, is not bullshit.
ribeye cap. plantain. broc stalk. piña. mint aioli. queso fresco. broc tempura. black bean soubise.
Consider: this dinner takes place in someone’s home. Therefore, all of the cooking is done with the limitations of a home kitchen. Churning out nine courses from that space is impressive in itself. They may have two fridges, but your stove is probably better than theirs.
crab. cauliflower. turnip. cabbage. cider. brussels. apples. cabbage.
The food is way less postmodern than internet research would have you believe. Possibly due to the home kitchen environment, there are no foams, no spherification, no gimmicks. (Not that I’m anti-foam or anything, but sometimes it’s a bit too much.) For all the painterly flourishes and pretty platings, this is all honest food, sometimes with unexpectedly homey flavors. Really tasty stuff, folks. I’m not going to break it down dish by dish (as there are lots of other bloggers who have done that, and done it better than I ever could). Honestly, if you go, you won’t have the same menu I did.
ocean trout. marscapone. onion jam. profiterole. candied lemon geleé. snap pea. yellow wax.
September 1, 2013
Here is a bit more from the Getty Villa. It’s one of those places where it’s hard for me to put my camera away.
August 31, 2013
The thing about having visitors from out of town for a long time is this: suddenly, you end up being incredibly busy on the weekends doing touristy things that you would never think to do in your own hometown.
O was visiting for all of August. I decided to take him to the Getty Villa, the less-lauded branch of the Getty Museum, for the simple fact that it’s way prettier (in my opinion) than the main museum over the Sepulveda Pass.
The Getty Villa is modeled after a Roman villa, the Villa dei Papiri at Herculaneum, and houses the Getty’s antiquities collection. Built into the side of a hill in Malibu (or technically, Pacific Palisades) that directly faces the ocean, there are constant cool, salty breezes that cool the outdoor areas of the museum.