Cookie Chomper

l'atelier de joël robuchon

2012-01-03T12:21:00.000-08:00

L' Atelier is workshop in French. Used in the context of a restaurant, it refers to an open kitchen concept. Robuchon is most likely the pioneer of the open kitchen concept. Yes, I've been to quite a few counter seats at quite a few pop-ups. But Robuchon is the forefather of the casual-fine dining movement. But is it really so casual? Black lacquered wood layered like lego's emit a tone of formality. The sudden clash of rouge upholstery and sanguine lights add a hedonist appeal to the otherwise stark decor. The miscellaneous trinkets and shiny objects that appear to be misplaced, but artistically so, remind me much of a place called Bazaar. Quite bizarre..

To say Robuchon's L'atelier is sexy, is an understatement. From the Freudian color scheme to the cloyingly rich dishes..

This delicate amuse bouche of foie gras parfait with port wine and parmesan foam is one of my favorites of the night. It's deceptively airy foam leads suddenly to a punch of intense foi flavor. If an amuse bouche is foreplay, then Robuchon has a way with women.

This is yet another ingenious creation of Robuchon! Expecting little tubes of bone marrow, I suck on it, only to be had with melting slices of foie gras wrapped around beef stew gelee!

I've said it before and I'll say it again; nothing speaks of sexy food more than oysters. Especially little buds of oysters that spill an unctuous juice of lime and French butter.

This seared lobster on macaroni with wild mushrooms is probably my least favorite. Maybe it's the very al dente macaroni.

This isn't a show stopper for me either. It resembles too much of a pizza from Mozza with its smoked bacon, quail egg and shaved parmesan. I'm sure we have all seen versions of this somewhere at sometime. meh

Oh look what the stork brought in! Jamon Iberico!

This quail may not look aesthetically pleasing as the other creations, but a little surprise awaits. Stuffed with foie gras and with a side of butter laden truffle-mashed potatoes, I'm on somewhat of a cloud nine.

I really did enjoy L'atelier, despite a few lackluster dishes. The chef used a heavy hand in everything opulent: hidden orbs of foi swimming in butter; golden uni peaking underneath truffle-mashed potatoes. Near the end of the meal, my vision blurred from excessive oils of all nature and my hopes of a simple John Dory, clean of superfluous cholesterol was smashed as I see it on plate, glistening and shining in a copious pool of animal fat.

Silly me.. Simple? Subdued? What was I thinking? This is Vegas after all.

L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon
MGM Grand
3799 Las Vegas Blvd S

Las Vegas, NV 89109

le comptoir

2011-12-16T15:30:00.000-08:00

I have been the laziest food blogger ever. Sucked into a vortex of work and grinding my teeth daily against the soft, texture-less diet of cafeteria food.

my life

But what I really crave is this..

and this..

Therefore the liberation of dining at Gary Mene's pop up, Le Comptoir, was beyond a treat. In LA, there are certain trends that will leave a mark in history, food history that is. As of late, there are the food trucks, pop up restaurants, foraging, underground restaurants and of course mo-ga. The pop-up is one of my favorite concepts. Chefs are more inclined to make small talk with patrons and the dishes tend be more innovative. With pop-ups, there is also the added benefit of less overhead on the chef, which also means you get more bang for your buck. Who doesn't like a good deal? Le Comptoir touches on all of these; innovation, quality, intimacy, and value. It is temporarily located in Tiara, a cafe of some sort, with a bar seating of 12. The l'atelier approach works flawlessly sitting at the counter and watching Gary's team at work.

Up close and personal, with Gary Mene shaving fresh black truffles on my fettuccine.

The sunny side-up egg is an interactive dish that allowed us to fold in our own lettuce and herbs and sprinkle with sea salt.

"veggie platter" musque de provence squash, mustard frill, fennel, onion petals, roasted grapes, brussels sprouts, warren pears

heirloom shelling beans “pot roast”, haricots verts, romano beans, young celery, smoked scallions, sultana raisin-pine nut relish, truffle infused broth

j&j ranch grassfed strip loin, hearts of romaine, san marzano tomato marmalade, barbara's potatoes, carrot top vinaigrette

"lemon lush", graham cracker crust, chocolate, sour cream, vanilla tuille

The black truffles over home made fettuccine were procured that same day from the "truffle brothers". It was nothing short of rich and magnificent. A simple execution of a butter sauce paired symbiotically with parchment thin truffles shaved table side. Heaven. The opening dish of yogurt "soup" poured over pickled chanterelles and okinawan yam was velvety smooth and left me contemplating licking the bowl. I noticed Gary's obsession with seasonal ingredients halfway through the meal. He even announced that his inspiration comes from foraged vegetables and that he strives to keep the ingredients in its natural state, without tempering it too much, hoping to exaggerate the taste with the most minimal of torturing and handling.And that he did. Dinner concluded perfectly with coffee imported from Honduras, which I might add, was better than any Kona, Java or Costa Rican bean ever had. I questioned Menes on when this stint in Tiara was going to conclude. He replied "when the wheels fall off." So make the trek to Le Comptoir before "the wheels fall off" and you just might be able to catch Menes with his house made cheese infused with truffles. Unfortunately, I didn't catch him in that mood.

http://www.lecomptoirla.com/index.html

Saison

2011-08-25T20:12:00.000-07:00

Thinking back, it all seems so surreal. Much like waking up after a vivid dream only to be left with wispy images no matter how hard you squeeze your eyes shut. Saison did this.

This event happened exactly 9 days ago. I had ample time to blog and recount my experience at Saison. But, frankly, I couldn't even muster a few phrases that would aptly depict the happenings and emotions of the night. What entails hereafter is a blur of color, taste, and textures that takes too much energy to recall.

But it went something like this....

Yet another obscure entrance -easily mistaken for an alley- leads the way, the only visage of Saison being a brightly lit "S" that initially seems mismatched against the provincial shrub and perennials.

A doll size dining area sits in the courtyard facing the open kitchen. Only a moment goes by before the server beckons for us to sit and two flutes of amber bubbly magically appear!

.... a foliage with rabbit, foi gras and textures of crunchy grit- the essence of forest in each bite.

An assortment of toasted greens it seems. However, as the server pours a thimble size bonito broth into the plate, the once brittle leaves near the bottom of the bowl transforms into a soup. A soup with a myriad of textures dancing on the tongue.

A single Santa Barbara prawn dusted with shrimp roe salt partners with one filament of sea urchin. Simple ingredients without razzle dazzle, allowing our amped up taste buds to settle down and pick up the clean notes of sweet and briny.

Squid done risotto style enveloped by its ink, Nuvola di pecora; Italian cheese tucked in a brioche ball sitting underneath a wild honeycomb,

and Meyer Lemon custard. I hate all things tart. I should hate the Meyer Lemon. Yet this is a slap in the face. It is almost as if Chef Joshua Skeenes is mocking me, you think you know..but do you?
Basically, it's effin' good. I can try to describe how good. But like squinting through fog:

hazy.

Ta-Da~ last but not least, we have your Grade-A slab of meat- our star Chef.
Saison
2124 Folsom Street

San Francisco, CA 94110
(415) 828-7990

Honolulu Finds

2011-08-12T14:59:00.000-07:00

Honolulu, the Disneyland of Hawaiian islands, is chock-full of generic sushi bars and pseudo-Hawaiian food joints. Thus, I'm determined to create a list of restaurants that are authentic, or at least aren't deemed "tourist traps". Halfway through our trip and I'm completely satisfied with our choices. Cream Pot, a mom-and-pop brunch shop, unlike other breakfast bars, has a distinctly Japanese flair. The Maguro Benedict, instead of brioche, is done with slices of fresh tuna, atop a grilled rice patty drizzled with a light miso sauce.

Maguro Benedict

Located in a shabby parking lot is Ono Seafood, poke specialist. Poke is a Hawaiian staple of cubed raw fish, and much like seafood salad is eaten cold. This is the ultimate utility lunch here in Honolulu. With no tables, most locals carry out or demolish it within seconds in the car. Having had my fair share of poke or its cousin, the tartare - each version played out and tweaked to a point where distinction of the two has become ambiguous- I can claim as long as it's fresh and the seasoning is right, you can't go wrong. And this is a perfect example. Although, sitting beside a seasick dive buddy while grazing on raw fish doesn't exactly enhance the experience. Remnants of his meal has become Nemo & Co's feast. Ya brah.

Combo Poke - Spicy mayo, Original

I'm having mixed feelings of Giovanni's Shrimp Truck. Yes, the grilled scampi drowning in sauteed garlic and olive oil is disturbingly good. But did it justify waiting 30 minutes under the scalding tropic sun? Is it annoying watching people fight over markers to graffiti the truck? Is it odd to find tour buses making pit stops here? You be the judge.

Alan Wongs, you have your quintessential 5 star regional Hawaiian cuisine, uber-fresh ingredients and waitstaff that caters impeccably. What more can I say?

Frankly, I never expected to enjoy my meals here in Hawaii. However, Honolulu has proved to be a city of flavors beyond just poi and generic luau food. The generations of mingling East, West, and Polynesian diets have added character and complexity to the "Hawaiian" staple. Not to mention the bevy of spam products, from the loco moco, to the spam flavored mac nuts, to the ever so delicious musubis. Who wouldn't love it?

Bar Tartine - a new face

2011-07-29T09:02:00.000-07:00

Bar Tartine has gone for a complete makeover, and by that, I don't mean aesthetically. It's the food I'm talking about. No longer can you find paninis and the ubiquitous bone marrow dish. Instead are the barely enunciable gulyas, halasles, and kapusnicas. In case you're wondering, I'm speaking Magyar, or the Hungarian language. The new chef, Nick Balla, has applied his Hungarian roots in the once American fare of Bar Tartine.

Meggyleves - chilled Hungarian soup of sour cherries and sour cream

The frequent dousing of sour cream vaguely reminded me of my short stint in Budapest. Although, abashedly, I only knew to order goulash, the common place soup of stewed beef and vegetables often drizzled with sour cream. The meggyleves, albeit a ghastly pink color - much like the results of one too many cranberry and vodka - is actually quite refreshing and savory.

Langos - fried potato bread with onion garlic and sour cream

Bottarga, grilled bread, butter, radish

toasted rabbit livers, arugula, dill sauce

An audacious move on the part of Bar Tartine to terminate a "safe" menu that, although isn't as lauded as its sister, Tartine Bakery, is still considered an innocuous bet for all-American cuisine. It seems the reaction is a positive one as I tapped in on the next table, "This is way better than before." I agree. The flavors are more dramatic, a colorful fusion of Hungarian with mild Japanese undertones, as expected from Nick Balla who ran an izakaya previous to this stretch. The langos is a respite from the conventional flatbread or pizza. Much like a Hungarian pizza, but more rich, flaky, and simpler in flavors that allows the bread to speak for itself. Do not overlook the Bottarga (salted mullet roe). Bottarga is another dish that isn't seen enough nowadays. Its delicate briny flavors sing harmoniously with the bitter, crisp of the radish. The meal was undoubtedly a memorable one, with each dish justifying a few commentaries after depletion, in spite of the flacid turo cheesecake - nothing Hungarian about that.

Bar Tartine

561 Valencia Street

San Francisco, CA 94110-1114

(415) 487-1600

A speakeasy within a speakeasy - Wilson & Wilson

2011-07-22T10:48:00.000-07:00

Password (of the day): Yale Standard

House Rules:

1. Please Speak-Easy.

2. No standing at the bar.

3. Patience is appreciated.

4. No cell phone use.

5. No camera use.

6. Don't even think of asking for a 'Cosmo'.

7. Smokers, use back door.

8. Please exit Bourbon & Branch briskly and silently.

Hidden deep inside the cryptic rooms of Bourbon & Branch lies another password protected chamber, a password not easily obtained, or so it seems. After a tedious registration, the email confirmation:

Cute, isn't it?

If you've been to the speakeasy Varnish in Los Angeles, then you're familiar with the whole concept of 1920's prohibition theme, which, quite frankly, I'm a sucker for. Wilson & Wilson has taken this to a whole other dimension. Starting from the private detective email confirmation stamped with your name, to the password protected entry, to the flappers costume; I was as giddy as a schoolgirl.

So here I am, in front of the speakeasy entrance, Bourbon & Branch. Not a single sign. Just a bleak doorway with the only indication of it being anything besides a doorway is the doorbell. Once the doorbell is pressed a flapper comes out to greet you and asks for the password. We enter the dark mahogany bar only to be led to another locked door.

We now have Wilson & Wilson, which is exactly how I would imagine a speakeasy to be.

The drink menu is as extensive as a pharmacology textbook. Pages and pages of whiskey, cocktail, absinthe outline the tattered menu. With the pri-fixe menu, you get a choice of an aperitif, a "main course", and a digestif. As you can imagine, the drinks were en pointe, innovative, with enough kick to make you wish they served food. Alas, the only drawback, nothing to nibble on.

With an allotment of only 20 guests per evening, one feels like a Fitzgerald until you get ushered out after 1.5 hours which is the exact time you're allowed there. And punctual they are. No worries. Once the flapper escorts you out, the soiree continues into another room, the Library Room. It never ceases to amaze!

A few friendly suggestions:

Come with a full belly.

Order the pre-fixe menu.

Allow Wilson & Wilson to take you back into an era where bootlegging, covert rooms, and jazz come to life.

Wilson & Wilson
http://www.bourbonandbranch.com/?caseid=main

The Plate Shop - Sausalito

2011-07-06T09:54:00.000-07:00

"Farm to table, nose to tail..."

That's the buzz lately on the locavore restaurant, The Plate Shop. Having never been a locavore follower, I've always found the whole Chez Panisse movement, dare I say it, boring? (There. I said it. Lynch me.)

But TPS sheds a whole new light on the concept of locally produced goods. It is the embodiment of farm fresh, with the progenitor of the immaculate poached egg just a few feet away clucking without a worry.

Tucked away in the picturesque town of Sausalito lies a hidden gem, The Plate Shop. And well hidden it is. With barely a sign, one can drive by many times without even noticing this tiny shop, as we did. The decor is whimsical, modern with a tinge of rustic. Service is impeccable.

The Plate Shop articulates with the seasons. Not only are the ingredients from their own garden, a few steps from our table, each bite bursts with flavors of summer. Freshly plucked sprigs of rosemary flavor the tender ribchop and the poached egg that adorn the rabbit livers was just laid by the hen I was chasing around in the garden.

Toasted Rabbit Livers, Poached Egg, Pancetta

Assortment of warm olives imported from Spain

Ricotta Gnocchi, browned butter, hazlenuts

Ribchop, coleslaw

With that said, I'm here to stress this: All movements come and go, be it nose to tail, locavore, MoGa, or street food. So please drop by and have some warm Spanish olives or better yet, sip on one of their artisanal cocktails, as I would like to see this one stay.

The Plate Shop

39 Caledonia

Sausalito, CA 94965

(415) 887-9047
http://www.plateshop.net/

Limon Rotisserie

2011-06-07T08:38:00.000-07:00

It feels like ages since my last "good" meal. I've been drowned in the mediocrity of Peninsula food, the Peninsula being the San Mateo area and such. Sushi is subpar and what Peninsula people stamp as the best sushi (Sushi Sam) is in reality...depressing. A few weeks ago I had an itching for chirashi, sashimi atop a bed of sushi rice, and J pronounced, "I'll take you to the best this side of town has to offer." The chirashi, disappointingly, contained PRE-CUT sashimi that tasted of wet mop - 3 days old wet mop. A few bites of the wet mop were forced in for good effort. But inevitably, I grumbled, "I... can't..I'm sorry" and meekly pushed the chirashi away.

Was the culprit really Sushi Sam's pre-cut sashimi? Or is this sushi snobbery stemmed from being pampered by LA's abundant supply of fresh and elaborate bowls of chirashi. I have a sneaking suspicion it’s the latter. But that’s my reality, right?

So after that episode I had lost my appetite, and hope, for good food. Finally, after what felt likes months, I was inspired to stick my head out the door, so to speak, and give it another shot.

Limon Rotisserie is Peruvian cuisine that emphasizes on its spit fire free range chicken. Word has it the secret recipe is the cumin garlic dry rub. There are around 7 ceviches to choose from but we opted for the Ceviche Mixto: tiger shrimp, fish, and Peruvian corn. Refreshing, tangy, a perfect ceviche.

Ceviche Mixto

With the name Limon Rotisserie, one would expect the chicken to be flawless. Strangely, it came out a bit dry. The silver lining were the 3 "aji" sauces that accompanied it- a chimichuri of herb and garlic; recoto mayo and aji amarillo. And the thick cut yucca fries top any gourmet truffle duck fat fries you can find. No joke.

Rotisserie Chicken

Limon Rotisserie should contemplate changing its name to Limon Short Rib because they really have this Seco de Costillas down to a science. The boneless short ribs fall apart at the nudge of a fork and its marble of fat and lean braised to a perfect umami makes this dish near un-wordly.

Seco de Costillas

Profiteroles

At 8 bucks a dish, you can get away with a 4 course meal for less than $30 a head. A rare find nowadays especially in the bay area. What it lacks in damage, it doesn't lack in flavor. Thus, earning its name in the pantheon of San Francisco's favorite dishes of 2011.

Limon Rotisserie

1001 South Van Ness

San Francisco

415-821-2134

Uni at Ame

2011-05-13T12:08:00.000-07:00

Ame at the St. Regis

Uni is on my mind.

Uni on sushi. Uni tossed in pasta. And now uni on crostini with thin filaments of shaved lardo, cured Italian pork fat, hugging pillows of fluffy uni.

The myriad of textures and flavors – crispy, velvety, unctuous, smoky then briny – at this moment, seem to best the common nigiri. Why is it the Italians always have to up the ante on my favorite dishes. First it was bottarga, cured mullet roe, which I initially thought the Taiwanese version of thinly sliced bottarga stacked on slivers of radish to be the one and only version, until I had the bottarga pasta.

Sea Urchin and Bruschetta with Lardo, Lemon and Sea Salt

And now this..

Now when I think of uni, it’s images of gossamer thin lardo enveloping sacks of urchin roe instead of the usual sushi that comes to mind.

Chawan Mushi with uni and lobster

Chilled Capellini Pasta with American Sturgeon Caviar,
Lightly Smoked Ocean Trout

My first instance of encountering this sinful creation was at Ame in San Francisco. But I’ve gotten wind that a small Italian eatery in New York also has kept this dish a permanent member on its ever changing menu. As for LA, you’re missing out.

Ame

689 Mission Street

San Francisco, CA 94105-4126
(415) 284-4040

the first day of spring in san francisco

2011-04-19T21:07:00.000-07:00

The first ray of spring has stealthily found its way out of heavy clouds and damp fog. The temperature is now a bearable 68 degrees and the cold harsh wind has let up some. This is the time you find San Franciscans awaken from their hibernation and stumble out blindly as their eyes meet a strange light - sunlight.

Wanting to share in this wakening of spring, brunch on a lazy Sunday morning seem most appropriate. Bar Tartine, I hear, is the perfect setup to for this occasion. The scuffed window pane walls allow for people gawking and basking in the late morning light.

French Toast - toasted walnuts, bananas

Eggs Benedict - brioche, smoked ham, arugula

Sunbather in Mission District

Nothing fell short of expectations besides the french toast. It much resembled biting into a wet mop, not that I've experienced it, but you get my drift. The word on the street is the foi gras panini is to die for, which sadly, sold out. Maybe next time, Bar Tartine. As of now, I'm content. Life is good.

A sad day

2011-04-18T20:31:00.000-07:00

I'm a little disheartened.

No, I'm in gut-wrenching pain.

I just got wind that El Bulli; my honeymoon and have to try before I die restraurant is shutting its doors. Not only have I been plotting and planning for the day that I would float into the fabled El Bulli, I've even marked it on my calendar with a black X. What is one to do when dreams and aspirations are punctured by the mercurial claws of misfortune himself?

Pick another one?

Denmark's Noma may hold the title of Best in World for 2 years straight, besting El Bulli in 2010, but El Bulli is the Godfather of moleculargastronomy and no neophyte can replace that designation. If not Noma, then which will I aspire to? #2 and #3 fall to Spanish restaurants El Celler de Can Roca and Mugaritz. Alinea in Chicago attained 5th place, a head above New York's Per Se (I was hoping French Laundry would have earned top 10, at least). There's Quay, best in Australia. Where do I go and what do I eat? How does one choose?

If only... El Bulli ..

Food Happenings LA and then some

2011-04-08T10:01:00.000-07:00

My trip to LA consisted of eating again, not surprisingly. Being the selfless being that I am, one must share some hidden gems and not so hidden ones.

Sung Ha Jang, a duck lover's hedonistic realm where the duck comes many ways. The only Korean bbq in LA that serves slices of flavorful bird frying in its own fat. As you can well imagine, the duck fat never ceases to flow.

The bubbling puddle of fat is then used to make a cloyingly rich fried rice with kimchi, leeks and spices.

Tip #1: Ask server to spoon out excess oil before adding rice

Tip #2: Be kind enough not to bring parents with high cholesterol or pacemakers

Sun Ha Jang

4032 W. Olympic Boulevard.

Los Angeles, CA 90006

(323) 634-9292

Playa, made its debut recently with a bang and lives up to its hype. To be pronounced [plah’-yah] and not mistaken for the word "player", which I learned the hard way whilst on a Playa Del Carmen excursion.

The Grail - 12 year apple brandy, malbec, pressed lady apple, Don’s mix, cane cola, apple espuma, dehydrated apple chip

Tortillas Florales - maize cakes with organic flower petals, indian butter
Start the meal off with these perfectly made tortillas. The gritty texture of freshly ground corn flour still steaming from the cast iron skillet pairs flawlessly with the silky guacamole Indian butter.

Maize Cake Breakfast - 63° egg, pan-seared potato, truffle cheese espuma, market mushrooms
Egg, truffle, and cheese....need I say more?

Tamalli Chipotle - wild-mushroom duxelles dumpling, filet mignon, chipotle béarnaise

This glorified tamale with tender cuts of charred filet oozing out of its husk is not to be missed.

Arroz con Pato - duck confit, baby vegetable pickles, arroz blanco jus, fresno chiles, chives, micro cilantro
Probably the best preparation of duck confit. No knife is needed as the meat falls apart with the nudge of a fork and the skin is baked to crispy perfection.

                                        Chiles Gueros Rellenos - tempura chiles, crab, corn, soy, ginger, scallion
I don't mean to wax poetic of Playa's dishes, but God, every dish is a hit. This tempura style chile can put any izakaya to shame with its light and airy batter.

                                                                     Playa
                                                   7360 Beverly Boulevard
                                                Los Angeles (323) 933-5300

My LA trip ended with a pit stop at Tartine. The Lemon Meringue Cake, with its meringue either torched or baked to a slight char will make even the most finicky mouths smile.

Manresa - a hidden gem

2011-03-17T12:45:00.000-07:00

Nestled in the "forests" of Los Gatos is a hidden gem. One can drive by without even a glance at this unpretentious and very approachable establishment. But of course, being the diligent food voyeur that I am, not only did I glance, I studied. After gawking at the menu for months, I've developed a systematic method of restaurants to go through before I move back to LA. And Manresa was next in line to FL. I recently had a chance meeting with a pastry chef and the question came up, "Does the bay area trump LA in terms of dining?"

She replied without hesitation, "Yes, SF does have more of a curve when it comes to dining" and she proceeded to list all her favorites with shining eyes. I'm starting to believe her.

Some of my favorites:

Naked beauty - a single oyster poached in its own succulent essence with yuzu jelly.

Sexy beyond words.

A velvety Dungeness crab salad with mandarin oranges, chicken broth jelly and a hint of cumin. (I've somehow managed to make this beautiful dish look like an orange blob. Much apologies =/ )

Crispy mussel with Japanese cucumbers and sprinkling of fresh dill.

Monterey Bay abalone

Confit of trout and a dollop of some amazing cream

Confit of duck with a Japanese plum sauce

Wagyu sirloin with a dashi broth..

lift her skirts ..

and a perfectly poached egg.

What added more appeal to this meal was that each dish came as a total surprise. There is no menu, not even a list of ingredients to go by. You entrust your senses to Chef David Kinch to toy and fondle with. And fondle he does. The point of no return for me was the Wagyu Sirloin with Poached Egg - so tender, flavorful, the perfect piece of meat. Be prepared for a 14 course food porn bonanza that will leave you hot and sweaty.

Red Medicine

2011-03-08T14:36:00.000-08:00

Minutes go by. Forty five minutes to be exact and still no sign of my dinner companion.

This was to be my last meal in LA and as a finale I opted for Red Medicine, the controversial modern Vietnamese canteen. Decor is simple, kept to a minimalist approach save a few wood accents here and there. There is no door sign or flashy neon light that helps patrons recognize any hint of this recent headliner. And the parking sucks or lack of parking, I should say.

So my dinner companion saunters in while I'm sipping an over-sweetened Krome Vodka with specks of basil floating around which I blindly mistake for nori. (Might have been more interesting if it was nori). He glances around, peruses through the menu and utters, "This place operates on really high margins."

Really?

A "sorry for the delay. Parking was shitty" would've been nice. But I digress...

Many swear by the Pork Chaud-Froid, a blend of chicken skin, lychee, clove, and pistachio. I couldn't make heads or tails of it. A bizarre taste that doesn't leave one wanting more - an awkward combination of plaids and stripes. Yes, awkward would be the best way to describe Jordan Kahn’s creations. Although some dishes work awkwardly well, if such is possible. Take, for example, the kobocha, burnt onion, Chinese sausage, chrysanthemum, crème fraiche.

A seemingly United Nation of ingredients that should leave battle scars on the tongue but manage to produce symbiotic results. The aftertaste reminded me grandma's bubbling concoction of Chinese herbs, dried sea horses and other odd sorts. This and the "Banh Mi" stole the show.

"Banh Mi" little sandwiches of foi heaven

The dishes are a mouthful to enunciate and the flavors are anything but subtle; bordering on sweet and herbaceous. Red Medicine is definitely a breath of fresh air to the Los Angeles dining scene.

Quick Tip: parking structure on adjacent street

Red Medicine

8400 Wilshire Blvd.

Beverly Hills, CA 90211

323-651-5500

http://redmedicinela.com/

Wayfare Tavern, my place

2011-02-04T13:45:00.000-08:00

I have a thing for the traditional gentleman's only club of dark mahogany constructed steakhouses littered with men in black suits. This was realized last night when I happened to stumble into Wayfare Tavern. There was a palpable buzz of energy the moment I opened the bulky oak door. You have your archetypal steakhouse interior, with a massive bar of whiskeys and what not, and an assemblage of bankers and attorneys babbling about the latest acquisition, mergers and adultery cases.

The food is more or less traditional steakhouse fare, but scaled up a bit and slightly Parisian. Deviled eggs, steak tartare, escargots...and of course steak frites.

delicious complimentary popovers

Fortunately, we got a seat right at the epicenter, 1 feet away from where the action is. It is way more theatrical sitting at the bar watching an interplay of sous chefs, chef de cuisines and line cooks than at a one-man sushi bar, I can tell you that.

Of course, I had to try their roasted bone marrow. And, of course, it was unctuous. Really hard to eff up bone marrow. I have yet to try a butchered bone marrow.

This will definitely be a place where I get my fix for bone marrow, steak tartare, and men with powertrips. I do intend to try the deviled eggs, escargot and many more.

Now on to my packing....

Wayfare Tavern
Financial District
558 Sacremento St.
www.wayfaretavern.com/

*reservations highly recommended*

The French Laundry

2011-01-23T20:07:00.000-08:00

Only a few hours left before the pinnacle French Laundry meal and the unthinkable happens. A bout of food poisoning like no other hits my innards leaving me slumped on the bathroom floor floor drenched in cold sweat and vomitus. Between spasms of agonizing pain, the inevitable sinks in..could I possibly make it to the French Laundry in less than 7 hours? 30 days of waiting for this day, plus an additional 3 weeks of calling time... must....surive....

Three weeks of calling busy phone lines at exactly 10 am everyday, exactly 30 days before the day preferred left us with the golden lunch hour seating. Not that I'm complaining, lunch seating is better than no seating.

Despite the horrid bowel-clenching experience last night, everything seemed to be a distant memory as I reached the rustic cottage that much resembled Hansel and Gretel's gingerbread lodging. There was nothing over the top, no razzle dazzle that one would expect from the caliber of TFL. Just a small brass sign that read 'The French Laundry'.

The French Laundry - you either know it or you don't. Therefore, I'm not going to go into an elaborate biographical frenzy of the who's and what's or the making of TFL. Nor am I going to describe each dish and break it down into its molecular components. You know that pithy saying, "A picture is worth a thousand words"?

Besides, I don't have the eloquence to give Thomas Keller's creation due justice.

Panna Cotta with Sturgeon Caviar

Spanish Mackerel "En Escabeche"

Sweet Butter Poached Lobster Tail and Coffee Chocolate Emulsion

Rabbit Shoulder and Tokyo Turnips

Thomas Farm Squab

Lamb Rib eye, Chanterelle Mushrooms and Garlic Pudding

Pomegranate Palate Cleanser

Caramelized Apples, Molasses and Cream Cheese Ice Cream

Cappuccino and Doughnuts

Not a breath of foam or a puff of nitrogen. Pristine, unadulterated ingredients that did not need extravagant heavy sauces to distract us from the fundamental ingredient. Never have I tasted lobster as sweet or as tender. And the squab, much to my surprise tasted of toro, but more rich and tinged with the slightest gaminess that told of its cage free existence. Nine surreal courses and a few edible take home relics which left me lusting for more.

As I make my journey home, a few pounds heavier, a lighter heart, I ask myself, 'Was that the culmination of TFL experience? What comes after this?'

The answer lies 6,000 miles away, across the Atlantic..

The French Laundry

6640 Washington St

Yountville, CA 94599
(707) 944-2380

http://www.frenchlaundry.com/

Christmas Lunch - Yamo

2010-12-25T19:55:00.000-08:00

I have a soft spot for cardboard box joints hidden amongst the uber-mod, glistening, nouveau restaurants that are popping up faster than pimples on a pubescent teen. Up and coming chefs seem to be in a feeding frenzy trying to come up with the newest concoction of uni ice cream or shark fin pearls. Whilst these meals result in ooh's and ahh's, but can this be a daily thing? Would this be our deathbed meal?

Didn't think so.

Yamo would be the antithesis of all the ritz and avante garde dining, the antonym of Gary Danko and its kind. An eight seat bar, with rusty stools and rice cookers as old as my grandmum are the norm here. Patron's face are buried deep in a bowl of steaming aromatic Burmese Chicken Noodle Soup. Oh, did I forget to mention Yamo being a Burmese eatery?

The Tea Leaf Salad is just as good, if not better than Burma SuperStar's.

There is the characteristic crunchy bits in the noodles, rice, soup and salads. One seats himself, orders promptly and slurps the al dente noodles with a few exchanges between Mama Yamo, and finds that less than 15 minutes have gone by before the bill comes. So is the way of Yamo.

Burmese Chicken Noodle Soup

Yamo
3406 18th Street
San Francisco, CA 94110
(415) 553-8911

Ubuntu - Napa

2010-11-15T17:59:00.000-08:00

".....a bounty of local biodynamically gardened produce handled with care and skill by talented artisans and chefs providing an unparallel experience connecting our customers to the bounty of the earth."

- Ubuntu Statement

I've sprouted gossamer wings and care nothing more for this carnal world.

These are my sentiments as I nibble on flora and fauna at Ubuntu in Napa. For a fleeting moment, the thought of transitioning into a vegetarian cross my mind. This says alot coming from someone who is known to be repulsed by greens and especially salads. I could never find enjoyment in filling my bowels with a hodgepodge of cold lettuce and tomatoes doused with yet another astringent dressing. Alas, Ubuntu has changed the face of salad.

the garden snake; leaves, flowers, roots, soil……

Is it a salad? A bouquet? Or a bountiful of mother nature's offering?

curried macadamia nuts

cracked potato, horseradish, crème fraiche, pickled quail eggs

farm egg slowly poached, stewd chick peas

That short lived notion of converting to veganism has left me, as the last pellet of chick pea is consumed. And my celestial wings have also disintegrated into nothingness, leaving me with earthly, awkard extremeties. At least there is the consolation of knowing that in our hazy habitat of smog and smoke, there's an alternative to colonic irrigation for purifying and detoxing our polluted bodies.

http://www.ubuntunapa.com/

Swan Oyster Depot - San Francisco

2010-09-24T10:22:00.000-07:00

I'm about to wax poetic about the best seafood joint, EVER.

There's a quintessential hashery to every city. Los Angeles has its Langer's, The Oinkster, and for the hip and trendy; Father's Office. As for San Francisco, nothing comes closer to archetypal SF than Swan Oyster Depot. Established in the early 1900's, it started as a horse drawn carriage serving fresh seafood to the masses. It has since grown into a crowded bar of 19 wobbly wooden stools, rust stained walls littered with paraphernalia of all decades. The vintage cash register and cash only policy adds to its rustic charm.

I've lost count of my visits to Swan, but this time it's a bit different. No longer a tourist, but a local, I revel in the exchange between Erik and I -- curious about the different species of mollusks like a toddler in a candy shop. Erik, having been in the family business of shucking oysters for a while, knows his mollusks. But after much probing he divulges, "they look like boogers" and wrinkles his nose as he shucks them at the speed of clipping toe nails. Bivalves aren't the only flying fragments - tunas the size of my thighs are projected through the air like footballs.

Erik

Bluepoints are still my favorite, less briny than Miyagis and milder than Kumamotos. I said it once and I'll say it again - these alien-ish creatures are God's answer to unadulterated, primordial, sexy food.

After encountering a near death experience with clams, I adhere strictly to Swan Oyster Depot clams only. Their cherrystones are crisp, sweet and tastes of an unravaged pristine ocean, which we seem to lack nowadays.

Finishing off with their renowned Louie Salad, I think to myself, "Life is good."

Swan Oyster Depot

1517 Polk St

San Francisco, CA 94109

(415) 673-1101

Ludobites 5.0

2010-08-22T13:36:00.000-07:00

I've held off on this post for a while. Mixed feelings and ambivalence seem to have stunted my judgment on Ludo's recent endeavor, version 5.0

Yes, I've grown more fond of him as seeing him with quirky expressions and his accented English adds to his charm. But Ludo's dishes aren't as "moan-ish" compared to previous versions. No doubt the poached egg with chorizo is nothing short of dreamy and the foi gras cupcake is whimsical.

Poached Egg, Potato Mousseline, Chorizo bits

Foi Gras Cheese Cupcake

Goat Cheese Soup

Grilled Octopus

Matcha Green Tea Almond Cake

Caramel Souffle

Like most things in life, sequels just don't make the cut. The Terminator, Pirates of the Caribbean, started loosing its pizzazz after 2..3... And Ludo's not to blame, really. He's a one-man team churning out creations with fury. But eventually the engines going to slow and burn out. Although I truly hope the Ludobites saga continues. And here's Ludo praying as well..

Bazaar revisited

2010-08-03T09:21:00.000-07:00

The novelty of plummeting down the rabbit-hole is starting to wear off. Bazaar isn't so bizaare anymore. With that said, this won't be an ebullient post where I wax poetic about how my my senses are jacked on José Andrés rendition of Alice in Wonderland. The reason I go now is purely for the enjoyment of observing slack jawed expressions of Bazaar virgins.

A few dishes that I've missed from my past excursions:

The Nitrogen Caprihina that I've been lusting over? It's all for show. Smoke and mirrors. If you like overly spiked slushy, this may be your answer to sitting through the dreaded chickflick on Saturday night.

The Japanese Uni Buns are outrageous! Uni, jalapeno, tempura bits and avocado; fusion at its best.

There's something very raw and primordial about Bazaar's version of a very dirty martini. It's a sexy drink, especially with the spherical cherry you have to dig deep for. And this one pops!

The Watermelon Nigiri tastes as boring as it sounds. Foam belongs on the face for extraction of facial hair, not on food. There you have my sentiments on foam.

I'm torn about the Cotton Candy Foi Gras. How can anyone not find this uber-cute. Although I usually despise anything that reeks of cuteness. But the convenience of popping a bite-sized piece of foi wrapped in pink cotton candy elicits the sucker in me.

Maybe it's the ubiquitous pink or the over-saturated colors that play a key role in the decor. But I think I've had enough of Bazaar for the time being.

No Mo-chica

2010-07-20T11:23:00.000-07:00

There was no questioning the excitement I harbored for Mochica. Peruvian food is high on my list of top 5 ethnic deathbed meals. The drama only heightened as I meandered aimlessly on Grand scouring for a sign that hinted Mochica. To no avail, only the occasional warehouse was spotted, not a single restaurant in the near vicinity. I had to call them up. The location turned out to be a mundane grey monolith of a warehouse that in no way could resemble an eatery. Unabashed, I entered the premise with high hopes. A mini wtf moment ensued...

A food court? Wait.. not even. It's more like a drug lord's storage center used to covertly stash drugs, but during the day converts into a food stall, a two vendor food stall. The mini wtf snowballed into blownup wtf moment.

No Alcoholic Beverages Allowed.

I drove 45 minutes for a food stall and not even a glass of booze to temper the situation. I was on cloud 9...
Being the perpetual optimist that I am, I stayed. We seated ourselves and proceeded to order from the scanty menu. It wasn't hard. We ordered 4 items which was almost half the entire menu.

The Seabass Ceviche is not your everday ceviche. The Peruvian spice, jumbo corn and yam makes it an ULTIMATE ceviche. My favorite of the night!!

I can't make heads nor tails of this salad, Papa ala Huancaina; roasted potatoes, boiled egg and huancaina sauce. Without sounding like a misanthrope, I'll just say this dish was left untouched.

The Oxtail Risotto; braised oxtail, barley huacaina risotto is meh.

Skip it and go for the Loma Saltado. You'll thank me for this, I assure you.

The beef is tender and spiced just right. The fries are crispy and fresh; no rancid oil noted

With a 50/50 hit and miss ratio, I probably wouldn't recommend anyone driving deep into downtown LA just for this. Although the ceviche is probably one of the best I've encountered, it's still not enough motivation for me. On top of that, my fusion radar is sensing signals from here, albeit weak readings. If the mood for authentic Peruvian hits me, more than likely I'll make the trek to Hollywood and hit up Los Balcones Del Peru.

Mochica

3655 South Grand Avenue

Los Angeles, CA 90007-4316

(213) 747-2141

Saam - an introductory course to molecular gastronomy

2010-07-11T17:20:00.000-07:00

Bazaar, as conspicuous as the last Pinkberry craze. But Saam? Maybe less so. Saam's a private dining room behind an obscure door sandwiched between the bathroom and the wetbar. You'll more likely pass by the room thinking it's the janitor's closet, a stylish janitor's closet. The menu of Saam is everything from Bazaar and more. José Andrés, celebrity chef, is nothing short of a prodigy. His use of molecular gastronomy brings out the the zany and whimsical side of food that has now become the trend of "seeing is not believing". You think you're about to nibble on the olive of a dirty martini, but as your incisors slice through, you realize it's actually olive juice encased in its own shell. Intriguing, isn't it?

There's a reason why I think Spanish food is the new black. Remember the days when escargots and foi gras were THE haute-cuisine. Well, those days are long gone. The Spaniards have taken tapas to a whole new realm. Some examples: Take this Tuna Handroll, no longer a nori wrap but a crispy cone that ensures no soggy seaweed.

Lotus Root Chip - star anise Tuna Handroll

A tongue in cheek version of a lox and bagel.

Bagel and Lox Steam Bun

This black olive spherication dish is accredited to Ferran Adria, the Big Kahuna of molecular gastronomy, the one who started it all. Apparently, Ferran invented the whole spherication concept but didn't patent it. So now there's a whole slew of chefs jumping on the Mo-Ga bandwagon.

Black Olives - Ferran Adria

Buffalo Wing -blue cheese Japanese Baby Peach-burrata cheese

A creamy broth of lobster head; take a sip, then a bite from the crispy bread salad. If lobster bisque is up your alley, then this broth will send you into gustatory rapture.

Lobster broth - crispy bread

A common favorite of the night, Iberico ham, imported from Spain and fed with acorns, not me, but the black Iberian pig. This is my first experience with Iberico ham and yet it's more memorable than any virginal experience I've encountered. The animal's pristine diet of acorns gives it a sweet and earthy flavor unlike any cured ham. The meat obliterates into a velvety nothingness the moment it hits your mouth. Oh how I would love to brush my lips against your satin-y folds.

Iberico Ham - caviar

Another virginal experience for me, freshly shaved black truffles. Undoubtedly, an aromatic dish smelling of damp moss and plush forests. Just one vexing question: is truffle suppose to be absent of flavor? Tasting of waxy filaments? Since I'm not a maven of these earthly treasures, I've always assumed truffles to taste as poignant as its scent.

Risotto - Black Truffles & Japanese Rice

This hot and cold soup is obscenely good. Crunchy corn potage on the top and creamy foi soup on the bottom. If this doesn't spell "genius" for José Andrés, I don't know what does. Replace this with the morning expresso and you're in liver heaven!

Hot and Cold Foi Soup & Corn

Bazaar's named it "sexy tomato seeds". Presumably, if you find wet red things sexy..

Although the combination of the sexy tomato, spherified cheese and crispy bits make it a formidable salad.

Not Your Everyday Caprese-sexy tomato seed and liquid mozzarella

This is a "moan" dish for me. Bazaar's version of an American classic; Philly Cheese Steak Sandwich. Only here, the beef is Wagyu. Be careful when it goes in, the thing squirts.

Philly Cheese Steak

Dragon's breath is more gimmicky than for gustatory pleasure. Basically, it's popcorn candy dropped into liquid nitrogen and when you put it into your mouth and exhale, you're transformed into a smoke tooting dragon. Why not call the dessert, Chasing the Dragon?

Dragon's Breath Popcorn

This would be my first formal session with molecular gastronomy. Admittingly, I've scoffed at the idea of tormenting food into unrecognizable forms and shapes. I believed that food loses its original flavor after it's been rendered through lab tests and extreme temperature changes. These archaic beliefs of mine were thrown out the door during our 5 hour long meal at Saam. 24 courses of non-stop mind blowing craftsmanship took me by surprise. I mean, I did expect everything to be impeccable but this took me to another level. Have I become a fan of this cult? Of the El Bulli worshiping clan? If so, God help me.

Blue Plate Oysterette - American Classic

2010-07-05T10:51:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought things couldn't get any grimmer for SoCal, the silver lining came; Blue Plate Oysterette. While we Angelino's have ample f-fusion cuisines to sample, we lack in oyster bars. I've been constantly grumbling to my bay area friends about this dismal situation. How is it that just a few hundred miles north, our counterparts have plethora of oysters to slurp on, sitting on bar stools amid a display of fresh seafood ready to be cracked and sliced for our enjoyment while we are reduced to Ocean Ave or whatever new shi shi brasserie in town. I have yet to stumble upon a true oyster bar. One that reeks of old world charm with guys behind the bar yelling out your order and a split second later catching that flying slab of smoked mackerel.

Some place that can rival Swan Oyster Depot or Anchor Steam Brewing for that matter. Things were looking bleak..

Until Blue Plate came along.

This is what I've been pining for. Antiquity mixed with a little blue blood. And it only gets better. Whereas Swan Oyster Depot has about 5 types of oysters, Blue Plate boasts a variety or 12! From east to west, you name it, they've got it!

Libations? BP carries a variety of wines and an extensive selection of tap beers and sake. I felt a bit whimsical so I opted for this, infused sake. It was meh, notes of pepper and mango are obvious but it didn't taste any more like booze than a glass of sprite doused with black pepper.

What really makes BP a notch above others are classic dishes such as Baked Clams that seem to have died out like disco days. The succulent juices of these tender mollusks sucked up by the bread crumbs makes raw clams dim in comparison. Oyster Rockefellers, although more ubiquitous than Baked Clams, also make a rare appearance here.

The Lobster Mac n Cheese with Truffle Oil is a blue blood version of the original. A decadent comfort food!

The Crudo here appears to be tuna with EVO. Unexpectedly, it turned out to be a tartar and a banal one for that matter.

Blue Plate Oysterette, LA's solution to the oyster bar shortage. But much more than just that. An oyster shrine where one can suck on luscious dewy oysters and moan without the guy sitting next to you thinking you're some fiend. Each superlative morsel is so sweet and unadulterated, tobasco and cocktail sauce would only do harm than good. Just a dollop of their mignonette will suffice. Epitome of sexy food.

Blue Plate Oysterette

1355 Ocean Avenue

Santa Monica, CA 90402

http://blueplatesantamonica.com/bpo/home/

Cozumel to Playa Del Carmen, the real taco

2010-06-22T18:16:00.000-07:00

When in Mexico, one expects to find the streets littered with taco stands and homemade salsa lined up like battalions in impromptu plastic canisters. One does not expect to find swanky Italian pizzerias and suave steakhouses that reek of tourist traps. And nachos aren't true Mexican food. Tex-Mex to be exact. Entirely submersed in the Latino culture, I had more tortillas and guacamole in the past week than any Mexican in LA, I can swear by it. The reason for this obsessive mania is my soft spot for authentic tacos. I consider myself to be somewhat of a taco aficionado, and condemn all Taco Bell's to bloody hell. By no means, should one ever find lettuce in its taco. To add more insult to injury, taco shells are soft. Yes, I'm still talking to you Taco Bell.

Desperately trying to find some good ol' tacos in, yes, Mexico, the land of tacos, the birth place of it all; I failed. Alas, there's no one to blame but myself. Menus in English should've raised a red flag. I did not heed the internal warning that went off in my head like Christmas lights, but brushed it aside carelessly and as a result ended up with flour tortillas and dry bits of shredded beef. Did I taste cream cheese on my quesadilla? Or had my tastes buds gone awry with all the battery of spicy salsas. Although my taco quest ended with dismal results, I found consolation in a plate of divine pillow-y gnocchi from Antica Osteria. With the way things are going, maybe the ultimate taco is sitting in an alfresco taqueria somewhere in Florence.

Zo not omakase

2010-06-10T11:27:00.000-07:00

Sushi Zo, sushi-nazism at its finest.

"Chef Keizo say no soy sauce."

"Chef Keizo say you can put soy sauce now."

"Chef Keizo say no photos. Or you will get kicked out."

And these are the orders that are commanded of us from Keizo's army while each dish is placed in front of us. As I sheepishly stuff my camera back into my bag, I think to myself: Aren't I a patron? Sure as hell doesn't feel like it. But I had it coming. Clearly printed in bold ink, on the menu in font 32, lists Keizo's "10 Commandments" of sushi doctrine. Need I say more?

Even with these strict rules, Sushi Zo has its share of die hard fans. Many go as far as to claim that Zo lies next in line to Urasawa! And truth be told, it is probably one of the finer, if not the finest sushi joints I've experienced. Not only are the morsels of fish fresh, but fresh to a point where I even forget that I'm eating expired fish. This may be an oxymoron, but I didn't note the slightest fishy-ness. Keizo has a dizzying array of sushi; some specials are imported from Japan. So you will be able get your hands on exotic, bite-sized pieces of Baby Tuna - tuna in its adolescent stage, thus "baby", creamier than its older counterparts, and very good -

and maybe some Skipjack Tuna which is also a rare but delicious find.

Even the Spanish Mackerel, which I usually shy away from because of its intimidating glistening skin, is devoid of fishy-ness and lies in harmony with the ponzu sauce and ginger.

Salmon with pickled radish

Normally a mundane sushi on its own, but paired with Keizo's homemade soy sauce and a sliver of pickled radish, seem to perk it up a bit.

The damage? 24 whopping pieces per person! The only gripe I have is the non-appearance of uni and salmon roe. Which makes me wonder, has our hunger for sea urchin finally drove them to the brink of extinction? Twice I've entered Nijiya Supermarket with disapoinment. No uni. Even Kiriko on Sawtelle did not carry uni that night. Once again, we've inadvertently finished off a specie.

But there's a caveat to all this gushing. Fridays and Saturdays are omakase only. Which is fine by me. I've no qualms with omakase, it's the lazy man's way of enjoying sushi in gastronomic porportions. Although I do believe that omakase should be creative, seasonal, and different from the regular menu. The whole point of omakase meaning "entrust" should be a journey of the unexpected, at least I wholeheartedly believe so. Sushi Zo fails in this aspect. Each small piece of sushi is straight from the sushi checklist without deviation, save a few in the opening act:

What a peculiar presentation! Although the taste is anything but intriguing. Two baby squids with a dallop of miso dressing. Let your imaginations run wild.

The closest thing to uni tonight: ika (squid) noodles infused with uni.

So is this a true omakase? Keizo's creativity is somewhat limited to the first few offerings, then followed with everything off the sushi menu. There is no contest to the quality of the seafood and I have no objection to his traditional-Edo style method. I've even grown to love the warm rice that sometimes falls apart in the soy sauce. But to install the omakase only decree is a bit hard to stomach, even if it is only on weekends. Since the dishes are strictly from the menu, I would prefer the liberty of ordering my favorites and leave off the likes of salmon and such. Grumbling aside, I will be back for the iron-fisted sushi policy, being the masochist that I am. But on weekdays, undoubtedly.

Sushi Zo

9824 National Boulevard

Los Angeles, CA 90034-2713 -

(310) 842-3977

Ludi-Bites 4.0 Finale

2010-06-01T20:45:00.000-07:00

My LudoBites cherry was popped tonight. It happened without warning, abruptly, leaving me at somewhat of a daze. And even now I'm still trying to ascertain how good it really is. Salaciousness aside, this chance dinner is attributed to fellow blogger Kevin of KevinEats. Although very last minute-like 24 hrs last minute- I was stoked at the invite. Admittingly, I was one of the hundreds of people who tried to get a reservation at Ludobites but failed miserably. I've concluded that the only probable method of snatching a table, besides knowing someone who knows someone, is keeping your fingers locked on a keyboard the minute Ludobites sends an email announcing the new pop-up location. As for me, I'll just cross my fingers and hope that I'll know someone who knows someone.

Tonight's the final night for Ludobites version 4.0 and to think I almost missed it by a hairline. Well, here I am on the LB bandwagon and is about to share a culinary excursion. Since Chef Ludo's dishes have been dissected and studied like a lab specimen, I'll leave the infallible descriptions of each dish, which includes the entire menu, to my dining companions Kevineats, Epicuryan, Food je t'aime, UncouthGourmands. This leaves me with the more memorable and noteworthy courses, in my opinion.

Dorade Ceviche, Heirloom Tomato, Spring Onions, Lemon Honey Paste
The dish itself was a little mundane. The fish was slightly overpowering. Although I did enjoy the whimsical presentation, especially the subtleties such as the flowers.

Brie Chantilly, Honey Comb, BalsamicVinegar
The brie is whipped until light and airy much like butter; a requisite dish loved by everyone at the table.

Santa Barbara Prawn, Avocado, Passion Fruit Cocktail Sauce

I don't particularly fancy the rubbery prawns, but the "icy" crème fraiche did add an interesting note to the dish.

Veal Tartar, Oysters, Almond Oil, Seaweed, Tonnato Sauce
Veal tartar, supposedly the star of the show but underrepresented, concealed even more so by the strong flavors of the tonnato sauce. I would prefer more veal essence than fish.

Boudin Noir Terrine, Apple Puree, Wasabi
Although not much of a blood sausage fan, I do find much jolly in watching my companions ravage over a plate of gore with blood stained teeth. ; ) Within a few minutes, it's reduced to a mangled stain, but artistically so.

Foi Gras, Green Cabbage, Kimchi Consomme, Pickled Turnips. Sesame Oil

Chef Ludo really did some damage on this concept. Neo-Franco meets Asian fusion. Velvety foi wrapped in simple napa cabbage and sitting in a light won-ton soup base. Creative? Yes. A hit? Most definitely.

Crispy Soft Shell Crab Cone, Spicy Mayo, Mango, Corona Granite

This may be the long lost cousin of Geisha House' spicy crab roll. More bluntly put, your standard fusion sushi fare. The exception being the crunchy cone that actually was quite becoming on its own. The combination of the Corona icy eludes me.

Ham Soup, Bread, Swiss Cheese, Radish, Cornichon, Guiness

"Salty," I think. Tastes again. "Cheese sandwich." I shit you naught. There is a tiny Swiss cheese sandwich lying in the bottom of this ham soup. I would've missed it if it wasn't for someone's kind reminder that there's more depth to this soup than pretty foam and ham purée.

Foi Gras Black Croque-Monsier, Cherry-Amaretto Chutney

A signature dish of Ludo's and easily my favorite. The bread is colored with squid ink and toasted with butter sandwiching globs of decadent foi. The cherry chutney cuts through fat with ease, but I find less use for it.

Squid Carbonara", Pancetta, Poached Egg (63°), Parmesan Snow, Chive Flowers

It would be hard not to harbor love for this dish. A perfectly poached egg that does not break even after we peel back the skin, chunks of crispy pancetta, and tender cuts of squid. The sum of its parts.

Dark Chocolate Souffle, Vanilla Whipped Cream, Hot chocolate cream

The souffle..is just a souffle. Albeit a good one.

Needless to say, Chef Ludo is an artist, not limited to just the culinary world, but an artist in paints and canvas as well. The wall at Gram's and Papa is checkered with his oil paintings and bric-a-bracs that constantly remind us of Ludo's celebrity status. An artist, in a sense, where his vocation isn't to please the client, but to procure an outlet for his creative inspirations. The passion for his creations are apparent when his frustration mounts as our perpetual camera clicking reaches a climax, afraid that we might, in our fury of shooting, leave his dishes cold. He tweets, "I zink zey forget to eat". I can see why people like this guy. He's charming. Friendly. Devilish. He struts his tattoo with rock star caliber. But I digress.. It's about the food, right? A factor that is often neglected in this era of celebrity chef-dom. Overall, I enjoy his outlandish and novel concepts, even with a few hiccups here and there. If I do show any doubts, I'm only thwarted by my very high expectations.

So comes an end to Ludo's 4th scene, but rumor has it his next showing will be sometime around July. When that times rolls around, be sure to super glue your fingers on the keyboard; lest your chance to watch him on stage be gone before you can even say "Ludo Lefebvre".

And again, many thanks to Epicuyan and Kevineats for supplying the free flowing booze to keep the night young.

Hurry up and get your Curryupnow!

2010-05-29T19:36:00.000-07:00

The bay areas first Indian street food on a taco truck...

The Deconstructed Chicken Samosa

The famous Lamb Kathi roll

Curryupnow focuses on chaat or street food of different areas in India; from Mumbai to Old Delhi to Chandini Chow. The food is authentic and un-Americanized, so my Indian friend claims. Did I question his veracity? Not at all. There's something to be said when ALL the patrons are of that ethnicity. As for the name? Curryupnow? It might be kitsch-y and cheesy. But I have to concede: It's quite catchy. With that said, do try the Lamb Kathi rolls as the roti is moist and savory, encasing the most tender bits of spiced lamb. Your mouth will be happy.

Bistro LQ - revisited

2010-05-27T20:56:00.000-07:00

Last Thanksgiving I vowed to return to Bistro LQ, not because of the charming server or the intimidating ~~sausage fest~~ choucroute that was, in my opinion, more for dramatic appeal than gustatory. The reason for this fervent commitment was because I was intrigued.

Of what?

The zany, balloon-adorned ceiling? The conspicuous red Converse Chuck Taylor's that all the servers were strutting? The mountain of gigantic sausages that screamed, "in yo' face"?
I really don't know what the reason. But I do know I want it. And finally, 6 months later, chance happened.

Nothing's changed. The familiar, forever-inflated silver and gold balloons are still hovering along the ceiling. And the servers are still as model-esque as ever. It's like I never left.

We are greeted with an amuse bouche of scallop and salsa-like dressing.

One of my favorites is the Uni with Tapioca Pudding and Kumamoto Oyster in Yuzu Gelée. An ingenious combination of tapioca pudding and uni creates a texture of velvety uni cream.

Foi Gras 3 Ways:
Sautéed: Oxtail, Frisee with Rose Oil Vinaigrette

Terrine: Wasabi Marshmallow and Yuzu Gelée

Torchon: Violette Scented, Spring Vegetables Russian Salad-style

Scallops
Tortilla Soup, Green Garlic, Comte Grilled Cheese Sandwich with Zucchini Flowers Sauce

Hanger Steak
Served with Glazed Shallots, Chanterelle, Sunchoke Puree, Jus

Duck Breast
Shishito Pepper Puree, Miso Sauce, Yuzu Glace

From the Cheese Cart:

and the condiments that ensued:

Bistro LQ is a charlatan, the name doesn't do it justice. It is by no means a bistro, or resembles anything of that nature. The attention to detail and service is exemplary of any world class restaurant but of a more casual approach. An interesting note about Bistro LQ is that you can create your own tasting menu. Each item is available in half order, which makes trying the whole menu effortless and cost efficient. Chef Laurent's antic nature is apparent when he pairs a perfectly grilled cheese sandwich with scallops. It's deliberate, yes. But what purpose does it serve? The same sentiment goes with the eccentric looking biscuits that appear more often than naught. However, his unconventional methods such as the Foi gras 3 Ways and elaborate Cheese Plate speaks for itself. The condiments that came with the cheese plate were outrageous. Pesto sauce? Cumin seeds? Quite cheeky you are, LQ.

Bistro LQ
8009 Beverly Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90048-4503
(323) 951-1088

Yoma Myanmar - the last man standing

2010-05-20T20:20:00.000-07:00

Myanmar.com

The primary requisite for this post is partially for my love of Southeast Asian cuisine and in response to the backlash I received from fellow blogger Sinosoul and my Burmese friend after my recent write-up on Burma SuperStar.

It went something like this:

"Comparing Burma SuperStar to a rock star is akin to saying P.F. Chang's is the ultimate chinese food."

and this...

"Please, for the love of God, hit up Yoma for Burmese instead. It will put every bite you've taken at Burmese Supernothing to shame."

Go figure.

and then I did this..

Accept the offer of a friend who so kindly insisted that he would introduce me to true Burmese fare. I obliged without hesitation, immensely curious as to the whereabouts of this obscure mom and pop store that has suddenly reached my homing device. Yoma Myanmar, one of a kind and I mean this literally. There's only a couple Burmese restaurants sprinkled around LA giving Yoma an effortless win in its category.

Yoma is actually operated and owned by a husband and wife team and claims to use age-old recipes handed down between generations. Maybe even the shop was Grandma's because it sure looked that way. It's more of a shack than a restaurant; with flickering fluorescent lights and walls scattered with photos of ... Grandma?
Our zealous host fervently ordered a spread fit for a king. The table was so laden with food that another one had to be borrowed to accommodate our entrees.

The oh-so-familiar tea leaf salad. Just as good as Burma SuperStar's if not better, but more potent in flavor probably due to the copious amount of tea leaves and nuts.

Hmm..I'm struggling to recall the names of the dishes from this meal. Keep in mind that our zealous host did all the ordering and in his native tongue, for that matter. So bear with me as I attempt to ~~mutilate~~ recount each course. Chilled mung bean tofu with chili sauce and cilantro seasonings; a must for hot summer days. Imagine sitting under a mangrove on a hot, humid day in Burma with the torrid sun baking overhead. And as the sweat trickles down your forehead and drips into the eyes your appetite cooks away with the intense heat. The solution to this? A refreshing chilled tofu salad with piquant spice to water the mouth and wake up the senses.

Nan Gyi Dok, a common noodle salad dish I also remember trying at Burma Superstar. Belonging to the same species, but tasting very different. As of yet, I haven't quite figured out which I'm partial to.

And this, my friend, is what Burmese food is all about. Not Indian. Not Chinese. Not Thai. Never before ~~seen~~ eaten. Moringa fish noodle soup. When our zealous host first mentioned, "moringa fish..", I by default thought moringa was a type of fish. Sounds like a fish. In reality, moringa is a flowering plant which is indigenous to India and the Himalayas. This seemingly insignificant plant is actually being promoted to combat poverty and malnutrition with leaves containing ALL essential amino acids.

Moringa: The Solution to Eradicate World Poverty

http://www.moringa.net/export.htm

The taste? A blend of India, Cambodia, Thai, Chinese. A whirlwind of spices; an unquiet mouthful, which sends your tastebuds in many directions. Yet subtle enough for you to finish the soup without your tongue feeling raped. Imagine that.

The "special" lamb curry was moderately special. After my tastebuds were violated (in a good) and pounded by the moringa fish soup, the rest were just..dull.

I have a penchant for curries and robust flavors, therefore my judgment might be slightly angled. But the fact is that there aren't other Burmese restaurants around to rival it. So naturally Yoma would the champion of its kind. Wouldn't it? After the last "incident" with Burma SuperStar I've recoiled from making quick rulings. So I leave it for you to decide. Just remember to order the Lassi. This tangy yogurt drink will be a temperate reprise from the heat.

**UPDATE**

The zealous host, after reading this post, was quick to notify me of a major error. To my dismay, my lover-ly moringa noodle soup was a fluke. Well, sorta. It's mont hinn ga fish noodle soup. Not moringa. I guess I was correct initially; that it was a fish! But that's not to say moringa won't eradicate world poverty. I stand corrected

Yoma Myanmar

713 E Garvey Ave

Monterey Park, CA 91755

(626) 280-8655

Ikko's Omakase at a glance

2010-05-10T21:51:00.000-07:00

Does LA or OC reign supreme in sushi?

There has always been some controversy on this matter amongst myself and my OC cohorts. I decide to take it upon myself to shed some light on this issue. Having dined at Ikko a few times, I feel that it would suffice to represent the OC region. Ikko is located in a non-descript strip mall like most restaurants in the So-Cal vicinity. The interior is modern and sleek, fusing with the jazz playing in the background, already cueing us in to Ikko's contemporary approach.

Rather than going thru each dish and redundantly describing the texture and temperature of each slab of fish, I've decided to elaborate on a few standout ones -- plates that were a little more divine than the usual. (My feeble attempt at an excuse for laziness, mind you.)

The ankimo (monkfish liver) pâté.

Steamed Egg with Uni infused sauce and shaved black truffles.

The champion dish is the steamed egg with uni and truffles. The pervasive smell of freshly grated truffle lingers in the air wooing you to take a mouthful. A bite too soon! The tongue scalds.

Foi gras and crispy wafer

It's evident that Chef Ikko likes to play Franco-Japanese style. And you can't blame him. This is above and beyond your typical fusion sushi joint where you will find foi gras instead of yellowtail sashimi and jalapeno. I, for one, have no affinity for anything fusion. Yet, somehow Japanese and French seem to coalesce well here. Maybe it's the yin and yang factor of light and heavy cuisine. Ikko's love for French cuisine shines through and accentuates an otherwise mediocre sushi establishment. Despite the frequent import of Japanese fish, the sushi seem to dim in comparison to the likes of Zo, Mori and what not. I can say with veritable triumph that LA sushi reigns supreme But is it a fair comparison? Probably not.

Ikko

735 Baker Street

Suite C

Costa Mesa

(714) 556-7822

Animal

2010-05-06T13:11:00.000-07:00

This post is long overdue.

Animal, my go to place when the lust for carnal pleasure -- of the palate -- pervades my mind and soul. It really is that kind of a place.

Vegetables are a rarity.

Although you will find a frenzy of pork, beef, rabbit and their private parts. I have yet to try their infamous pork belly and kimchi -- or is that Momofuku? I seem to confuse the two more often than not.

The chicken liver and toast is simple but lovable.

Many people find the BBQ pork belly slider scrumptious and "soulful". Me? Not so much. Soul food it is, with a heavy hand of BBQ sauce. I have a deep rooted aversion for BBQ sauce which Animal so generously renders.

My favorite will have to be the foi gras loco moco. It truly is the sum of its parts. However, the beef patty seems superfluous and gritty against the silky texture of the foi.

My love for anything bone marrow is put to the test here. Sadly, parsley and balsamic vinegar conceals all signs of the marrow; leaving an astringent tartness that makes me wince.

Be forewarned upon entering Animal, you will feel guilty and "beefy". With no sign of greens and cholesterol numbers that will make a cardiologist cringe, the urge to partake in a P90X workout will overcome you.

Animal

435 N Fairfax Ave

Los Angeles, CA 90048

Burma SuperStar

2010-05-01T14:42:00.000-07:00

What a name!
It truly is a superstar. Where else can you find Burma imported tea leaves folded into a salad to create a tea leaf salad?

Burma Superstar, an apropos name for a restaurant with such rock star status. I've been hearing this name for quite some time, almost like a mantra incessantly chanted in my ear. Many pseudo-Burma SuperStar's have opened in hopes of catching some slivers of stardom from it, but none even come close. A paradigm in its own realm.

Welcome to Burma Superstar.
On a side note, although he is a rock star, don't expect him to be adorned in flashy leather pants or studded belts. He is modest, choosing to be dressed simply-- choosing not to detract from his true talent. With no fancy decor, only wood tables and a dingy exterior, there is only one focus, the food.

Here we have the renowned Tea Leaf Salad:

The grated black tea leaves lay demurely on the lettuce, reminding me of bird dung at first. But then the server buoyantly tosses the salad and explains each ingredient on the dish, emphasizing that the bird dung is actually imported tea leaves from Burma. What a surprise! The ~~bird dung~~ tea leaves exude a subtle bitter flavor but offsets the tartness of the dressing perfectly. What makes this salad exceptional is the crunch from the plethora of assorted nuts and toasted garlic.

Now comes the Nan Gyi Dok:

This dish entails a light coconut chicken curry with rice noodles topped with an egg and toasted shallots. What god hath created for men, the Burmese hath bestowed the Nan Gyi Dok.

I'm impressed by the seemingly trivial action on the server's part, preparing the food tableside. Food prepared with care and love always makes the fare more appealing.

As this meal draws to an end he brings us our final dish, supposedly a Burma SuperStar special curry, aptly named: Burmese Style Lamb Curry.

I'm really digging this curry, slightly different from the Indian curry, evocative of a fair-skinned cousin. The use of less spice and non-existent curry powder makes Burmese curry lighter and milder. Paired with the aromatic coconut steamed rice? A match made in heaven! To separate the two would be unorthodox. Sacrilegious!

It's pretty obvious that I'm enamored with this place. My infatuation stems not only from the curry, but the bouncy rice noodles, the fragrant coconut rice, and the zesty tea leaf salad. It is an ethnic restaurant like this that motivates people to travel around the world in search of cooking that imbues tradition and culture. Burma here I come!

Burma SuperStar

309 Clement Street

San Francisco

http://www.burmasuperstar.com/

Perbacco - old world

2010-05-01T13:24:00.000-07:00

I fell..hook line and sinker for this old world charm. Perbacco isn't a new kid on the block. She's been seasoned, had her share of fluctuating barren days and glorious days. Yet, she's still around. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing beat up or run down when it comes to Perbacco. Its decor is just as chic and posh as any trendy, hip newbie. Although you'll find the clientele slightly more reserved, with the hairline just starting to recede, and conversing of the most recent "litigations", as the table juxtaposed aside me was. This is the Financial District after all.

The man behind this? Chef/Owner Staffan Terje. Terje? Not very Italian sounding you're thinking. That's because he's 100% born and bred in Sweden. But the chap isn't concocting Swedish meatballs and sauerkrat. His traveling-chef days to Italy have inspired him to create dishes indigenous to the Piemonte region.

Perbacco houses its own curing room for salumi, ergo I found it a must to try their Salumi Misti. There was an array of salumi's ranging from lardo to the Italian version of rilletes (which I must say, the French have effortlessly prevailed) to your standard salumi with a name I can barely enunciate. Surprisingly, the cured meats didn't feel heavy and laden with sodium as I was expecting. There wasn't even a need for the bread sticks. The garnish of pickled veggies countered the meats nicely.

Tajarin - handcut tagliatelle with porcini mushrooms and 5 hour pork sugo. I was blown away by this prosaic looking quasi-ramen dish. How can those queer looking strands be so tender, yet al dente? What really gave me a food-gasm was the umami flavor of the 5 hour pork sauce that it so willingly soaked up.

Paparadelle - braised short rib ragu and roasted chanterelle. There's papardelle, and then there's parparadelle. I can say, honest to God, that I've never had a better parparadelle. Although not being very well versed on pastas or Italian cuisine, I've nothing to compare with besides Osteria Mozza and Acquerello. But who cares? Another handmade pasta cooked to perfection with a fusing of al dente and tenderness, slipping and sliding everywhere. I don't recall the ragu. The star is obviously the parparadelle, and the ragu was there to enhance its sexiness.

Perbacco has got its pasta making down to a science. Each dish was perfectly executed, flawless, and not your typical "Batali lard-y" construction of heavy sauces and fatty cuts of meat. I actually felt good after this meal. There was no need to consult my stash of antacids. To Staffan Terje; the Swedish-born, Stockholm-raised, Europe-traipsing, Piemonte-inspired chef, I give you my obsequious bow.

Perbacco
230 California St
San Francisco, CA 94111
(415) 955-0663

Palate Food & Wine

2010-04-17T16:36:00.000-07:00

Better late than never.
Palate Food & Wine has been on my radar for years. But being a little fearful of Glendale after the belly dancing episode at Carousel Restaurant (Disneyland of Lebanese food) has turned me into a dark voyeur, reduced to enjoying the experience through other bloggers posts. However, my Peeping Tom days are over! I was agog over the much anticipated tapa meal that was about to come.

The corn colored walls and large glass windows immediately shows the emphasis on ambient lighting. Although not as posh as the finer LA restaurants, this is one of the few venues where I feel completely relaxed and at home. The color scheme and decor is reminiscent of a warm spring day with flowers in bloom and a soft gentle breeze. The enormous flask filled with astronomic grapes adds a whimsical note to the rustic ambiance.

Mason Jar, Potted Berkshire Pork - Frankly, this is my first experience with rilletes (meat cured, salted and cooked in its own fat until tender, pâte-like) and I'm not expecting anything spectacular. Come on.. Take a look at that dry, canned-tuna like appearance. But it lies. Dry it is not. Bland it is not. The texture and consistency is almost like eating unctuous pork fat but without the heavy, lard like taste. Pork fat without fat, if there is such a thing.

Ricotta Gnocchi, chicken hearts and pecorino - The chewy gristle of the chicken heart contrasts nicely with the fluffy pillows of gnocchi. Being an avid gizzard fan, this dish is definitely up my alley.

Pork Belly, fennel + orange salad, crispy potato, pistachio aillade - The omnipresent pork belly is almost a staple it seems, in most contemporary restaurants nowadays. However, because of this situation there's more to compare. I'm not going to be happy with just any slab of pork. I want mine with the perfect ratio of fat to meat and seared to a nice caramelized brown. And this one doesn't suck. The pistachio aillade kicks it up a few notches, or it would have been rather pedestrian.

As the day recedes with the ambient light, night begins to fall and my photos are gradually reduced to muted tones of reds and oranges.

Diver Scallops, bacon and pickled carrots - Now I've seen some beautiful presentations in my life, but this strays from your typical arrangement of ingredients. It's not striving for decadence and impeccable placement of minuscule vegetables, but alludes an earth-y quality of autumn leaves and wildflowers.

Although there have been mixed reviews of PF&W, I've concluded that this is a place of comfort and good food, where I will visit often and attempt to try all their mason jars and cornucopia of cheeses. One suggestion: bring a dining companion whom you won't fall asleep on and make sure you like that person, because everything moves a bit slower here and by the time each dish comes out, you would have already learned her aunt's life story.

http://www.palatefoodwine.com/

933 South Brand Boulevard

Glendale, CA 91204-2107

(818) 662-9463

Fifth Floor, on the fifth floor

2010-04-13T16:18:00.000-07:00

Molecular gastronomy has become the weapon of celebrity chefs and almost a requisite label if one wants to make a name amongst the ever more competitive culinary world. It has almost become a battle of who can make spaghetti out of ice cream, without tampering with its texture. Really? I'm timid about the unknown, especially when food is tortured into something it was never meant to become. But with the limited knowledge I have for molecular gastronomy (having only dined at XIV and Bazaar), I'm not about to write it off as something nefarious and science fiction.

That said, this post obviously will not be raves about a mind blowing experience at a venue that is a disciple of molecular gastronomy. Fifth Floor, one of the bay area's collection of Michelin-starred restaurants is located (naturally) on the fifth floor of the Palomar Hotel. Simple? Not so much.
An eyebrow was raised when my dining companion so ingenuously asked the doorman, "What floor is the Fifth Floor on?"

An interesting note about Fifth Floor is that the executive chef is Jennie Lorenzo, being female and Filipino and having never attended any culinary school, makes her a bit of a rarity amongst the almost predominately Caucasian-male, CIA trained chefs. Her dishes seem to border on pushing boundaries, yet retaining the original nature of the ingredient. Therefore you won't find foams and emulsions tampered with liquid nitrogen. But boring it isn't.

The crudo consists of sashimi with agave nectar, lime and olive oil. The tartness of the lime and subtle hints of agave nectar really wakes up the palate. By far, one of my favorites of the night.

“Hot Spring” Egg: poached jidori egg, truffled potato.
Egg? I'm sold.

Ahhh.. foi gras atop brioche and almond paste. Now this sucker you either love or hate. For me, it is the latter. Well, hate is such a strong word. Let me rephrase, it simply does not sit well with me. This is too avante-garde for my liking. The brioche and sweet almond paste reminded me of a foi- gras cupcake. On a side note, the considerate chef did include a dash of salt and pepper on the side for ones accustomed to the more savory version. But the burst of flavors from foi gras to sweet almond paste, then sweet brioche, then salt and pepper -- sadly -- did not do it for me.

The smoked duck breast: a tender mouthful of perfectly executed duck, with just the right amount of crisp to the skin.

Pork belly with white asparagus and lavender cream sauce. Pork belly always gets me hot and bothered, but this one falls short.

Wine infused strawberry sorbet with tapioca and banana chips. At first glance of this techni-colored creation, I am slightly appalled. I try hard brushing away the image of Chesire Cat lapping at my neon green dessert. Diving in, I remember not to dissect its parts, but to include everything in one mouthful (rest assured that Jennie Lorenzo knows something I don't). This is an experience of an unexpected taste explosion; an in- describable orgy of flavors.

I give props to Jennie Lorenzo for being innovative while still staying in the realms of simplicity. Her bold dishes such as the foi gras with brioche will always be remembered, if not loved. Also, the amazing goat milk butter that came with the bread was simply to die for, the culprit of me eating a sinful amount of bread. I highly recommend the tasting menu, as it is reasonably priced and reasonably portioned. Albeit, a few hiccups here and there, Fifth Floor pulls everything together nicely and ends with a beautiful note.

Sushi Sushi - Unchanging

2010-04-04T10:45:00.000-07:00

An old sweetheart should always be there to give guidance, be available for coffe, and knows what makes you tick, in theory. And this is exactly what Sushi Sushi is to me. Shige San has never beguiled me with trickery and empty promises. With almost assembly like speed, he always creates beautiful plates of sushi art.

The rice to fish ratio is always a perfect 1:3. There are times I almost forget of Sushi Sushi's existence with the dizzying lineup of new and notable places to try. Yet, he's always in my subconscious, beckoning me to come and enjoy an old comfort. A place where surprises don't occur.

The uni has always been a pillow of creamy sweetness with just the right amount of brininess.

The ikura, most likely preserved by Shige San himself, seems lighter than its counterparts, almost like bubbles made of sea water.

The hand-grated wasabi portrays his traditional side, never succumbing to the freakishly green synthetic paste in a tube.

Perfect pieces of sushi roll out sequentially, almost at a tangible pace. Every visit seems to entail the same methodical story; uni sashimi, sweet shrimp, hamachi, toro.. ending with a tuna handroll.

Why don't you stimulate my senses anymore? Monotony isn't conducive to a healthy relationship! Years have gone by and yet nothing has changed. Your uniform courses have not fluctuated with the season nor has your "specials". Maybe next year when we meet again, your offerings will been tweaked, but not bereft of that traditional value I've always known to love.

Sushi Sushi
36 1/2 Beverly Drive
Beverly Hills, CA 90212
(310) 277-1165
http://www.sushisushibh.com/

Gordon Ramsay At The London

2010-03-28T10:19:00.000-07:00

Cooking is the most massive rush. It's like having the most amazing hard on, with Viagra sprinkled on top of it, and it's still there twelve hours later. -

Gordon Ramsay, 2003

Gordon Ramsay @ The London website

There have many been many times in my so-far-short-spanned life where I have tried hard to scrutinize and find flaws in something only to be left a little perplexed. One instance was that beautiful blue-eyed flaxen cheerleader in high schoool. Perfect curves, perfect grades and a syrupy smile to match. An evil bitch in disguise? No such luck. The angel just so happened to be a Special Ed TA.

Tonight is another one of those instances. The day starts as a typical FML day, where basically everything that can go wrong does go wrong. The much anticipated Bistro LQ dinner reservation was dropped last minute due to reasons too graphic to be disclosed on a food blog. After much dismal meandering about on Sunset Blvd, we stumbled upon Gordon Ramsay At The London. Well, "stumbled" is hardly the word. One can not really stumble upon a secluded restaurant in an ivy-cloaked hotel without doing some last minute Yelping. Alas, I was less than enthusiastic about this place. Firstly, I have no idea of who Ramsay is besides being the foul tempered chef on a show called Hell's Kitchen. Secondly, I am dubious of chefs who run competitions in a studio. Last but not least, restaurants in hotels? Maybe not.

The establishment is divided in to two areas; the front being a more casual cafe, and the back for formal dining. The ambiance is swanky, chic and gold tinged.

A feast for the eyes, but not the stomach?

And then two amuse bouches are served. Not your run-of-the-mill amuse bouches, but a decadent foi gras pate sprinkled with black truffles and crispy parmeseans with red peppercorns!

Ok..bluffing I see. It can't get any better than this?

Foi gras pate

Pureed Spinach amuse bouche

Confit rabbit leg agnolotti with marinated cherry tomatoes, Shiitake caps, grain mustard emulsion

Sonoma Lamb duo, sweet onion compote, cherry blossom, creamy polenta, jus

Nebraska beef tenderloin with braised escarole, short rib jam, Carrot vichy and bone marrow sauce

Pineapple soufflé with Thai curry ice cream, toasted coconut

As the dishes slowly but surely roll out, I start to fold and the cynicism melts away like hot wax. All the entrées show Ramsay's impeccable standards and done with such flourish. The only dissapoint is the dessert. The pairing of curry icecream seems like a bold statement, but only leads to a perfunctory "ok.." Other than that, I love Ramsay's twist to each dish. Subtle as they are, but yet also very deliberate.

*Thank you J for a wonderful night*

The London West Hollywood

1020 N San Vicente Blvd
West Hollywood, CA 90069
(310) 358-7788

Wakasan - Omakase for a steal!

2010-03-19T18:02:00.000-07:00

Wakasan, an izakaya-lover's wet dream. It's almost a hybrid between izakaya and kaiseki cuisine but in a more rustic setting. Rumor has it that the "Sushi Nazi", Nozawa, has been sighted after hours dining here with fellow sushi chefs. It can't go wrong if the chefs are taking care of their hunger pangs here. What's not to love about a place that has a 35$ omakase?! Yes, you heard me. 35$ omakase. You're not going to find a menu at Wakasan. You walk in with no choice but the 35$ set. But if you do find the whimsical desire to upgrade, just call a day in advance and make a reservation for the 55$, 75$ or 95$.

One expects to find the 35$ omakase a watered down version and skimpy portions, right? Not so.

I count 10 courses to be exact, including dessert. The first three sunomono courses are light and refreshing, a perfect opening.

The sashimi is surprisingly good for an izakaya setting. The red snapper and tuna are fresh and do not have too many bristles. Even the less than perfunctory riceball ochazuke adds a surprise element. Who would've thought rice ball and ochazuke?

My favorite dish of the night turns out to be a salad. But not just any salad. It's a salad that I end up licking the dish of its last sesame and egg yolk dressing. Leave it to the Japanese to think of adding a poached, half-cooked egg over a conventional albacore sashimi salad. Only a true-egg lover can appreciate this dish for its unadulterated beauty.

So the nabe is only mediocre. The meat is overcooked and too bland for my liking. Although the cute presentation did help bump it up a couple of notches.

Wakasan is a place still under the radar. It's been known as more of a "foodie" place (God, I hate that word). The unpretentious setting and mom-and-pop fare has attracted many diners who aren't about the "scene", but more for authentic, modest Japanese fare. Many have tried the 55$ and up omakase, but still are avid supporters of the 35$. Makes sense. 35$ for a delicious, no-frills meal? This does not suck.

Wakasan

1929 Westwood Blvd

Los Angeles, CA 90025
(310) 446-5241

Clams in Red Sauce Over Bucatini

2010-03-12T22:24:00.000-08:00

A true lover of food not only has to know good food, but know how to cook, in my opinion that is. My love for cooking stemmed since I was an innocent lass, not knowing the difference between real cheese and the amorphous cheese whiz. There was no epiphany such as many others have claimed. It just sorta happened like most incidences in life.

No, I'm lying.

This all started with an ex-boyfriend who imagined himself to be the next Iron Chef. Let's just call him X. Now this guy can cook. X would concoct all sorts of meals from scratch, Steak Bourguignon, Malaysian curry.. you name it. A secret battle ensued between us; a battle of denaturing proteins and julienning vegetables. So you have it, in a nut shell. Cooking is still very much a part of my life even though X is just a figment of the past.

Never a conformist, I believe in improvising from scratch and not from a book written by others. Yes, there are a few tattered cookbooks I've managed to collect from the Barnes and Nobles $2 section. But even those have been wedged underneath a wobbly chair.

What makes this meal special to me is the pasta I procured from Joan's on Third. Bucatini, much like spaghetti but thicker and hollow in the center, has more of a bite. The perfect al dente. You're not going to find bucatini in any supermarket, or even at Trader's Joe. Trust me, I've tried.

With bucatini in hand, all I need now are some fresh ingredients. It just so happens that clams are in the fridge spitting out sand with each dying breath. And thanks to mum's garden, we now have crisp basil and parsley. Since I'm not much of a cookbook person, you won't find exact measurements. As Rachael Ray would put it, "just eyeball it."

clams (cherrystone, littleneck..)
parsely, basil (chopped coarsely)
shallots (chopped)
garlic (finely chopped)
roma tomatoes (diced)
white wine
tomatoe paste (1 tablespoon, or deathly acidic)
Italian seasoning (bottled)
bucatini (of course!)

The key to cooking perfect al dente pasta is to use a 5:1 ratio of water. The more water the cleaner the pasta. Don't forget to add salt to the boiling water. As the pasta is cooking, heat the oil and saute garlic and shallots for about 3 minutes. Add the clams and wine. Cover and simmer for about 3 minutes or until most clams have opened. Add the tomatoes and tomato paste and continue to simmer for another 3 minutes. Finally, add the parsley, basil, and Italian seasoning. Season with salt and pepper. Add the drained pasta to the sauce pan and toss it around like you see Emeril Lagasse do with such finesse.

The moral of the story is not only to promote bucatini, but also motivate people to cook more. Do you really want to sink your teeth into a steroid injected chicken or spraypainted beef patty?
Didn't think so.

Got Beef Noodle Soup?

2010-03-06T08:53:00.000-08:00

My recent pursuit? The best freakin' beef noodle soup around town.

I've never fancied beef noodle soup before. It wasn't until recently, due to J's fervent infatuation with it, that I found myself probing deep into the unchartered territories of Monterey Park, Rosemead, and San Gabriel.
What appeared as a simple quest was actually quite arcane.

What constitutes a good beef noodle soup?

From my minimal knowledge on this subject, I believe the Taiwanese and northern Chinese version are noticeably different. The former being spicier, heavier and paired with pickled cabbage. On top of that you have the wide array of noodles to choose from; hand pulled, knife shaved, vermicelli and what not. With all these variations, one can only imagine the response I get when asked the question, "Where's the best beef noodle soup around town?"

To make a long story short, I compiled a list of places to try and after much noodle slurping came up with these results. JTYH Restaurant in Rosemead is across the board, heralded as one of the best. Their knife cut noodles are al dente, like it should be. But the beef soup, albeit good, is a bit too light for my liking. It lacks the oomph of star anise and chili oil that I'm accustomed to.

JTYH (taken from Yelp) Liang's Kitchen

On the contrary, the broth in Liang's Kitchen has the perfect medley of spices and packed with heat. What makes this dish a cut above JTYH is the soup. The union of tomatoes and onions cooked until juices merge into one (excuse the double entendre), makes JTYH's soup seem almost bland in comparison.

Although it seems that Liang's Kitchen takes the torch for now, but I've not completed this search for the great noodle. This will be ongoing. This will lead me to find the ULTIMATE beef noodle soup.

Joan's on Third

2010-03-01T21:32:00.000-08:00

The barrage of grubbing from east to west this weekend, ended around dusk in a café/market place called Joan's on Third. It's located in the food-centric area of LA, Third Street, where you'll traverse across the likes of Milk, Susina's Bakery, AOC and such. Joan's and The Little Next Door cater to similar crowds, the hip and trendy, but Joan's being more of a hybrid between TLND and Bottega Louie. The wide panel glass windows and stark white interiors are reminiscent of Bottega Louie's decor, but with a more modern approach. Although the decor of Joan's pales in comparison to the fancy granite counters of Bottega, I would much rather nibble on the rustic fromage and charcuterie of Joan's any day.

You won't find novelties such as portabello fries here, but count on a smorgasbord of imported cheeses, meats and pâtés. I felt like a kid in candy shop, standing amongst the handmade jars of honey and jams, and basking in packages of curious wonders. For a moment, I was reminded of the Dean & Deluca in Soho. Just for moment.

The Tasting Kitchen

2010-02-21T13:27:00.000-08:00

The drawing factor that led me to drive one hour to this obscure restaurant was for one thing only, their Bottarga Pasta. Bottarga, basically a dried fish roe cured in sea salt, common among Taiwanese as a delicacy to be paired with daikon, but more eminent among the Sardinia region for their bottarga pasta dishes.

Depending on how it is prepared, the texture can be tenacious and waxy if eaten raw, with rich flavors of umami and distinctly "sea-like". As a youngster, I remember eating it raw, and falling in love with its robust flavor of the ocean. It never occurred to me that there was more than one way of preparing it, until an episode of Anthony Bourdain in Sardinia. An unadulterated dish; spaghetti dressed with olive oil and sprinkled with grated bottarga. Heaven.

Never have I seen bottarga pasta on a menu, at least not that I was aware of. So when I did stumble upon it while perusing the menu of The Tasting Kitchen, I was beyond elated. TK is located in the more obscure part of Venice, without an obvious sign, I missed it many times. But who cares? I was about to feast upon a dish that would probably have cost a 15 hour flight to Italy

I was dissappointed. Not only was the spaghettoni overcooked, I could not for the life of me taste any bottarga, only toasted breadcrumbs drenched in oil. Where were those gold filaments? I had a sneaking suspicion that the breadcrumbs were a decoy, since this pasta wasn't on the menu that day and the chef had to make a special order.

No bottarga in the kitchen, therefore delude with fragments of similar appearance and consistency?

No, they could not be capable of such vile acts. What was I thinking?

Nonetheless, this left a dismal note on the whole meal. Even the perfectly roasted bone marrow with capers and toasted baguette couldn't uplift the unsalvageable atmosphere. Although I did find some solace in the bread with apple butter. What an ingenious combination!

Frankly? I like this place. Despite the bottarga letdown, everything else was impeccable. What's not to love about a restaurant that serves bone marrow, cheese, charcuterie, apple butter, radish and butter, all on one menu? Tasting Kitchen, I'll be back. If not for the bottarga, then for the menu that changes more often than Lady Gaga's wardrobe.

Acquerello, one michelin star

2010-02-13T12:05:00.000-08:00

What does a Michelin Star truly represent? Who decides which establishment receives a star? These burning questions have never crossed my mind until my recent visit to Acquerello.

Yes, the Michelin brothers who made that eerie tireman, are the same people who established the Michelin Guide in the 1920's. I've probably strolled into many restaurants and never detected that shiny plate of a star hung conspicuously on the front door. Notable service and outstanding quality is requisite of receiving such a title, and of which Acquerello maintains effortlessly. To celebrate a special occasion, we do the four course tasting menu. Each dish is stellar, the kobe beef short rib an unctuous morsel, and the staff so attentive it leaves me a bit intimidated. Although a sucker for good food, the fine dining scene is not my niche. Hushed voices and servers towering over you to pamper at your beck and call makes me nervous.

The star of the night, a simple rigatoni with pureed foi gras and black truffle dish. There are no distracting sides and garnish, just pasta and a creamy sauce with specks of black goodness. The sauce is heavenly, lingering on the palate, daring you to lick the plate in this austere setting.

Leaving Acqerello proves a bit arduous, with stomachs a little too full and not being much of an Italian food lover, feeling a little over-saturated by the rich dishes and pungent cheese.
As I roll out the front door, I notice for the first time, a shiny plate with a lone star and wonder..

La Mar Cebicheria Peruana

2010-02-08T14:07:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since my last post, and truth be told, I just haven't found a restaurant worth writing about. La Mar is one of those few places that will never fail to surprise the customer looking for something a little off the beaten path.

You're not going to find your standard ceviche or causa. What you're going to get is an array of seven different types of ceviches with ingredients ranging from uni to ahi tuna to mahi mahi and peanuts. You will also find yourself a little bit awed at how potent that tiny glass of Piso Sour can be. Think eggnog whipped in rocket fuel.

I've never been partial to "fusion", the idea of east meet west scares me. It obliterates the essence of the culture, the marriage of a sushi and "california" is an abomination (IMHO).

"But La Mar is fusion", you say. This time, the fusing of uni in a ceviche doesn't perturb me. In fact, the creamy sauce with a hint of sea urchin was so superb, it was slurped from a ladle like chicken soup.

All the dishes were hits, robust flavors with sauces that left you lusting for more. However, more often than not, it's the simpler things that one remembers. Don't expect a bread and butter basket at La Mar, of course. Instead, anticipate a colorful myriad of fried plantains and banana chips with an over the top trio of dipping sauces. Even the corn are thumbnail sized bits of goodness, reminiscent of the Peruvian staple.
Here is Peru, and a little bit more.

Nopa

2009-12-20T19:54:00.000-08:00

Nopa reminds me of a first date, where you go in expecting ho hum, but come out a little enamored. The entrance is no more than an inconspicuous black door, with nothing that bears semblance to a restaurant sign. The only hint that this may be somewhere to grab a bite to eat was the large window pane filled with ambient lighting.

You know it's "the hang out spot" when you walk in hearing clinking of glasses and the buzz of conversations from nearby tables. The menu is short and has some of my all time favorites, such as mussels, squab pâté, and fish stew. The pâté was creamy, paired with perfectly toasted crostitinis that can be enjoyed by itself.

The mussels, like most mussels paired with white, garlic and toasted croutons to soak in the broth, was pure delight. There wasn't a single mussel that didn't scream "fresh".

Although the fish stew was the perfect end to a meal, it's main character seemed to be mussels, which bore striking likeness to the mussel dish we just devoured.
Nopa is a place where one can enjoy simple dishes, perfectly executed, devoid of the the "fusion plague" of east meets west. This is where the food is the star, not the chef.

Mentaiko (fish roe) Pasta

2009-12-05T16:15:00.000-08:00

Today's trip to Nijiya proved fruitful, with fresh ikura (salmon roe) and pink mentaiko, the possibilities are endless. I decided to concoct my own version of the Mentaiko Pasta found at Curry House.

Ikura for garnish
1 pack of mentaiko
2 cups of white mushrooms (sliced)
Chopped green onions for garnish
JAPANESE mayo 3 tablespoons
Alfalfa sprouts (optional)
Spaghetti

Why Japanese mayo instead of American?

Kewpie is creamier, saltier and much more addictive than its foreign counterpart, Miracle Whip. Kewpie is like my best friend, I use it in salads, sandwiches, veggie dips, you name it. Although Kewpie isn't the headliner in this pasta, but being a cohesive is just as pivotal. Without Kewpie, this dish would be a lackluster hodgepodge of ingredients.

I premixed the mentaiko and mayonaise, being careful to peel off the sac that encloses the roe.

I boiled the mushrooms with the spaghetti, being the sloth that I am. But the mushrooms should be thrown in as the spaghetti is finished cooking, or else you'll end up with a mushroom soup. Toss the spaghetti with the mentaiko mixture and garnish with green onions, ikura, and alfalfa sprouts and voilà, pairs nicely with a glass of Riesling.

Urth Caffe - Santa Monica

2009-11-30T17:24:00.000-08:00

Art or ? I've been hearing about Urth Caffe's latte art, where toothpicks are used to create fancy shapes and forms. It was a delight to witness the "artists" in action and one wonders, can I recreate this on my own latte?

Urth Caffe seems like one of those trendy spots where MILF's congregate to show off their new pair of Rock and Republic jeans. Although the idea behind "Urth" is about organic tea leaves and coffee beans, I didn't get a whiff of any tree hugger or hippie-like clientele. The plethora of couture loving patrons only confirmed my suspicion that "organic" is a designer label made to entice our trend following society. While I was sipping my "organic" green tea latte and nibbling an "organic" banana cream pie, I knew I had succumbed into the trap set by merchants. I had sold myself to the "organic label". Not that the Spanish latte wasn't a mug of unctuous, aromatic goodness, with a sketching of a dove that I couldn’t bear to ruin. But was it really worth the price at $7 a chuck?

Bistro LQ - An Early Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T10:24:00.000-08:00

Today I witnessed erotic furniture and indulged in pork like a deprived German, both of which were unexpected. This unassuming furniture store contained some eye opening pieces, either you love or hate. This coffee stand was made of human hair, and I couldn't for the life of me understand the concept. My jaw dropped, but I was left with an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Do consumers actually purchase these for their living room?

My favorite, loose powder coffe table.

The eerie vanity table with melted wax

If only the hair coffee stand was placed next to this vanity table, it would've been the perfect setup for The Ring.

As 6 o'clock chimed in, we scurried to Bistro LQ next door. I was anticipating chef/owner Laurent Quenioux's innovative creations. He was heralded "the mad chef" and Jonathan Gold described him as "the most mysterious of L.A.’s first-rank chefs". LQ is known to be daring with creations such as ant's eggs, barbequed frog legs and such. Without doubt, I was beyond stoked entering the premise. There were no patrons at the time, but I assumed it was because the night was young. The decor was low profile, intimate, with around 10 tables. The only vestige of LQ's zaniness were the melange of silver and champagne balloons floating on the ceiling. It definitely elicited my attention with its out-of-place yet tranquil fusion.

(I forgot to bring my camera. This was taken from their website.)

As we were seated, Jonathan, the adorable parisian server, informed us the regular menu/tasting menu wasn't available today. The star of the show tonight was the Choucroute prefixe menu. Choucroute is French for sausage. With Thanksgiving around the corner, I really did not like the idea of indulging too much on meats. But you only live once, what the hell?

I'm going to keep this short, the corpulence of pork from the meal has left me in a comatose state.

First Course - A simple Herring, Topped with Sauteed Quail Egg

Choucroute to include Sauerkraut poached in Reisling, Mortreaux Sausage, apple wood smoked bacon, Pork Shoulder, Ham Hock, Milk Sausage, Weiners, Blood Sausage, Steamed Potatoes.

You can only imagine the look on our faces as this massive plate of meat was laid before us. Pork today and turkey tomorrow. Wonderful. Don't get me wrong, these sausages were tender, moist and flavorful, not saturated with sodium like American sausage tend to get. But one can only eat so much pork. We managed to finish 80% of the plate, which was miraculous by Asian standards.

Not only is Chef Laurent notable for his avante-garde courses, but also for his delectable desserts. He boasts a 5 course dessert menu that has rave reviews across the boards. I was amazed at the complex flavors, and how he executed simple dishes with a flair of his own. Although, dismayed that I did not get to try their regular menu of exotic dishes, Bistro LQ left a stellar impression. Service was elegant, food was sophisticated yet unpretentious, and if that's possible, LQ has accomplished it. As we left the bistro, Jonathan, our server, remarked "this is your first time? I'm sure it wont be your last.." with a knowing smile.

8/10
http://www.bistrolq.com/
8009 Beverly Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90048
(323) 951-1088

La Estrella - not the best taco, but just as good

2009-11-18T15:41:00.000-08:00

Where are the best tacos in LA?

I'm not even going to go there. It's like asking a Chinese lady, where are the best noodles? There are some debates you just don't want to spark. I've witnessed many contentions about the best taco's in town, whether or not a burrito's of true mexican lineage, and where hails the best hainan chicken. It can get bloody. Who's to say which taqueria heralds the ultimate taco. Taste is, afterall, quite subjective. LA, having a Hispanic population of 46%, is fortunate enough to have many authentic Mexican food establishments sprinkled through out the city. I'm sure each of which has it's loyal followers.

I'm on no quest to uncover the primo taco. Having said that, I've been lusting for some authentic asada lately, which led me to the other side of town. In reality, this area was only a stone's throw away from Old Town Pasadena, yet it still made me feel like I was in the wrong neck of the woods. I circled the establishment twice before I decided to brave it, and parked my car. The place was a shack; shabby and rundown, with a few wooden tables in front of the order window, just like a true taqueria should be. Now, you know you're getting some true Mexican food when all you hear is Spanish, the menus not in English, and not a single gringo is to be spotted.

My meal was a trio of carne asada and el pastor tacos. I dug through the bag, curious to see what condiments accompanied it. Lime. Salsa Roja. Aghast! No radishes?! I'll just have to make do. The first thing I noticed was how red the tacos looked. It seemed saturated with the famous red sauce that people swear by. I like my tacos, neat, clean, and not overly wet. This was going to wreak havoc in my car. Did I forget to mention that I was enjoying my trio of tacos in the car? Being the coward that I am, I didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb.

Tacos. The tortilla was a tad bit thicker than the usual skin, maybe to hold the wet mass better. I dissected the parts and found a good meat to onion and cilantro ratio. The asada and el pastor were robustly flavored, not overly cooked, with just the right amount of fat. The only qualm I had was the amount of salsa, the contents were swimming in red. By the time I was done with the tacos, it looked as if I had a brawl with the salsa roja and lost. Sweat was trickling down my neck, the heat from the car, or the salsa? I'll never know.

It would have been near perfect if it wasn't for the excessive sauce. Subsequently, I'm still partial to the more subtle flavor of King's Taco and Alberto's. As I drove away from my covert parking spot with a smile on my face, I thought, where were those damn radishes when you needed them the most?

Little Next Door

2009-11-10T20:19:00.000-08:00

With autumn right around the corner, one needs to find a cozy cafe along the sidewalk to sip latte and nibble on a tart. The first place that comes to my mind is the Little Next Door.

If you focus on the French speaking servers, the blue and gold decor, and ignore the cars with American license plates, you might really find yourself believing that this is a Parisian cafe. The reason why I think autumn is the perfect season for sidewalk cafes is because the Socal sun isn't as treacherous and the winter chill won't freeze your french onion soup. One can always dine indoors, but then it wouldn't be Paris.

During this visit, I decided to focus on the desserts instead of the appetizers or entrees. Now, I'm no coffe connoisseor, but I find the Little Next Door to have one of the best coffes in town. Maybe the heart foam did it for me.

The french onion soup was amazing! I've never had an onion soup with this much cheese. I would have to deem it, the best french onion soup ever.

The Croque Madame was a bit dry, even for a sandwich. I would definitely recommend the tarts and skip the sandwiches.

Baba au Rum

The rum cake and the souffle was undeniably the highlight of the meal. The cake was soaked in sweet rum, but not overly sweet. There was something quite addictive about it. Although I was full, I couldn't stop taking bites out of it.

Chocolate Souffle

There's a reason I always come back to the LND even when there are many other cafes out there. It's like a little excursion out of the hustle bustle of LA, where you can find great food and a relaxing ambiance. Take a step in, and you wont realize you're in LA.

8/10

http://www.thelittledoor.com/

Sushi Koo, omakase

2009-11-09T10:42:00.000-08:00

I've always thought the bay area dimmed in comparison to LA's ubiquitous array of sushi joints. It was so embedded in my mind that never once did having sushi cross my mind while I was in San Francisco.

After a bit of snooping around, I came up with Koo Sushi. I was ambivalent at first, afterall, how could a place called Koo yield authentic sushi? But then again, didn't I fall in love with Sushi Sushi? I guess you can never judge a book by its cover.

Koo features a non-traditional ambiance with lounge music playing in the background. We were seated at the sushi bar, directly in front of chef/owner Kiyoshi Hayakawa. I immediately took a liking to the amiable chef. He was not one of those sushi nazi, typical of sushi joints in LA.

My absolute favorite of the night, Spoons of Happiness. It came with two spoons; uni, quail egg, and ponzu. The other spoon held ankimo (monkfish liver) wrapped in yellowtail with truffle oil. This came with a shot of sake to wash it down. They should have called it Spoons of Bliss!

Sashimi Platter

Stuffed Jalapeno, Homemade Miso and Eggplant

Okra

I was slightly dissapointed that okra would be on an omakase menu.

Yellow Tail Collar imported from Japan. This was a perfect collar, tender, flavorful with just the right amount of char. I licked the bones clean.

I wasn't able to decipher the name of the fish with the Japanese accent. But I do recall it being tender and buttery, perfection.

There's no way I could let this piece of chu-toro slip my mind. It was also imported from Japan, with no gristles and smooth and creamy as can be.

Aji Suhi

I loved how Chef Kiyoshi paired the sushi with it's fried fish bone. Not only was the bone tasty, like briny chips, it was also aesthetically pleasing.

Macha Flan

This meal was a feast for the stomach and the eyes. All the items were fresh and were more traditional than fushion. Being a fan of traditional sushi, I was pleased with this. Kiyoshi took the time to explain each dish and seemed passionate about his work. We chatted about how the bay area lacks in Japanese food, in comparison to LA. But I told him, with a hidden gem like Koo, there's no need for more. I will definitely go back and visit again. Kiyoshi's omakase isn't a set omakase like some of the ones in LA. I'm looking forward to my next meal there and the surprises he will conjure.

8/10
http://www.sushikoo.com/

Torihei, Torrance

2009-11-06T08:48:00.000-08:00

Do not fall for the bamboo sake gimick. I have no idea why they charge an extra $5 for the same house sake, when the only difference is the bamboo holder. Really? $5?

Besides the bamboo, I loved everthing about Torihei. There was't a miss on any of the items and the noise level wasn't as high as Shinsengumi. The skewers are just as good as Shinsengumi, if not better. Torihei might even surpass its rivalry, with its extensive oden menu.

The infamous bamboo sake

Gizzard

Chicken Skin with Ponzu Salad

Half Cooked Egg with Roe (oden)

Seaweed (oden)

Chicken with Mentaiko

Pork

"Torihei" special meat ball

Hanpen, fish cake (oden)

Fluffy, light..eating clouds

Beef tongue- a must

Washyugu Beef

The finale, ochazuke. The perfect end to wash down the palate was with some rice soup. It came with pickled radishes and marinated squid.

Remember to drink the broth that comes with the odens. It would be sacriligeous to let that flavorful soup go to waste. All the dishes surpassed my expectations, especially the Fish Cake Oden, beef tongue, half cooked egg. But I just didn't feel the "special beef". Frankly, I had no idea I was eating beef. My only qualms were the bamboo sake and "special beef". But that won't stop Torihei from being my favorite izakaya for now.

8.5/10
Torihei
1757 W. Carson Street, #A
Torrance, CA 90501
Tel: (310) 781-9407