Last Saturday, I read my piece "Tony Takitani" at an open mic. Sponsored by the California Writers Coalition, it was held in the mammoth Barnes & Noble in Encino. I've always thought it was great that book stores hold so many events, but there are definitely some downsides. After all, it's a sharing of private space and any event has to compete with the raison d'etre of a bookstore, better known as commerce, especially on a busy Saturday night, especially during the oh-so festive Christmas season.
Barnes & Noble decided to tuck the open mic way back in the hobby section. It was the kind of open mic where anyone who wanted to perform was welcomed. That night included a comic singer and two stand-up comedians. And a persistent Book Browser. Who kept creeping closer and closer towards the stage. While one of the stand-up comics was performing.
Maybe the browser was hoping for that unspoken social contract which says, "if I act oblivious of you, you will act oblivious of me". Or he might actually have thought he was invisible (this is LA). Unfortunately, he wasn't invisible. Especially to the stand-up comic. A confrontation ensued.
If the comic thought he'd humiliate the Browser into submission, it just didn't work out that way. This is LA. Everyone in LA is a performer. The Browser embraced his chance at improv. Jumping in with both feet, the Browser became the classic straight man and a comedy duo was born. Much to the comics chagrin.
Many thanks to the California Writers Coalition for hosting the event. They're trying to get some much needed community money from Chase so if you're on Facebook, please click on http://apps.facebook.com/chasecommunitygiving/charities/968447.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Food Poisoning
Why is it that whenever I get food poisoned in LA, it's always at the American food restaurants and never at the ethnic ones? You'd think it was the other way around, with so many of the ethnic restaurants getting B and C inspection ratings, but nope, it's always at the American food restaurants. And I eat out at the ethnic restaurants a helluva a lot more too. And it usually involves beef.*
*Of course, I don't eat a lot of sushi -- that's a story in of itself...and sushi is barely ethnic anymore, sort of like pizza and spaghetti...
*Of course, I don't eat a lot of sushi -- that's a story in of itself...and sushi is barely ethnic anymore, sort of like pizza and spaghetti...
Saturday, November 7, 2009
American Food
Food and LA. I love eating here, so many restaurants, so many different kids of food, so many places to try. But when I think up a list of all my favorite places to eat, the list is filled mostly with ethnic places, usually Asian. Which leaves me surprised. Why are there so few great American food restaurants? Not the expensive, must-reserve, Frenchified or Italianized places, but the every day eating joints where you can pop in anytime for a really satisfying meal.
I do like Pann's — it's one of my favorite places and a near perfect dining experience: great Googie architecture, great atmosphere, comfy booths, nice service, good comfort food. Musso and Frank is near perfect too. And there's Langers. Greenblatt's too. And I like Milk a lot. Du-par's has a fantastic Monte Cristo sandwich and their French dip isn't bad (but their service can be pretty annoying and the other dishes ho-hum). Phillipe's is fun. The Counter burger places are great too. And Fab Hot Dogs. But now I'm starting to run out of names, and for such a huge metropolis with so many restaurants, it seems like there should be so much more.
Often, I'll end up going to a place that gets mentioned in LA Weekly and I'll have a sandwich and think, "Wow. I could be at a Vietnamese banh mi place in the SGV. The food would be 80% better and I would have spent $5 - $10 less." A lot of the good American food places tend to be very specific too: like good only for breakfasts, good only for hamburgers, nice for Cincinnati-like chili (Chili John's) etc. There should be more places like Du-par's, only much, much better with less expensive choices. And the experience shouldn't be so inconsistent or so stressful. Like at The Golden State — getting a table can get rough, and the food can be really off (I once got sweet potato fries which were mostly black from having been burnt, and soggy, which defied my expectation because you'd think burnt food would be extra crispy — I mean, if you can't get your basic side right, what's the point of existing at all?). Oinkster is pretty inconsistent too (never go during the off hours, like 4 in the afternoon). Or at Father's Office, where the food is always fantastic, but the fight-for-your-own table situation so rough, the side to every meal is indigestion (last time we went, we had to play tag-team with another desperate couple — each couple stationing themselves at opposite ends of the restaurant, ready to swoop at the first signs of an emptying spot). The same at Apple Pan. The busiest Chinese dim sum houses give you numbers. Which is showing respect and consideration for your customers. After all, hospitality is as paramount as good food, isn't it?
I'd like a renaissance of American food. Not the cute interpretations at $20 a plate, but just good, classic fare, a nice blue plate special for $5.99. Last week, I spent an hour on the web looking for a basic caramel apple recipe — what I could find were the ones that advised you to buy candy at the store and melt it (telling you to buy the ready-to-use caramel wrappers is not a recipe)*. This is why I'd like an American food renaissance.
As an aside, here's an unscientific observation. The most demanding, enthusiastic and busy LA Yelp restaurant reviewers seem to be Asian. As a correlation, I often find Caucasian diners at American food restaurants to be not very discerning. Like I was at a nouveau Swedish restaurant and everyone around me was raving about the Swedish meatballs — I thought the meatballs were hard, not seasoned very well, and the milk gravy pretty appalling (I sighed and thought, "I could be eating the meatball plate at Ikea for around $6 — I would have gotten more meatballs, paid about 20% less, the food would have been more authentic, and tastier, too [I'm not saying Ikea food is gourmet or anything]."). To add to this, when I was in college, my fellow diners and I would spend hours complaining about how truly awful the dorm food was (mostly cheap cheese on carbs). The only diner to protest was Caucasian, and she said, "This is a lot better than what I got at home." Our hearts broke for her. So I wonder. Is the Asian food here so much better because Asians grow up eating good food at home (and I mean recent immigrants)? Certainly, there are a huge number of Asian immigrants concentrated in a very small area, but if they weren't so demanding, I'm sure the state of Chinese food in the SGV would be as blah as the state of the American food.
*I did finally find a wonderful recipe at Real Mom Kitchen. The caramel is to die for. Really.
I do like Pann's — it's one of my favorite places and a near perfect dining experience: great Googie architecture, great atmosphere, comfy booths, nice service, good comfort food. Musso and Frank is near perfect too. And there's Langers. Greenblatt's too. And I like Milk a lot. Du-par's has a fantastic Monte Cristo sandwich and their French dip isn't bad (but their service can be pretty annoying and the other dishes ho-hum). Phillipe's is fun. The Counter burger places are great too. And Fab Hot Dogs. But now I'm starting to run out of names, and for such a huge metropolis with so many restaurants, it seems like there should be so much more.
Often, I'll end up going to a place that gets mentioned in LA Weekly and I'll have a sandwich and think, "Wow. I could be at a Vietnamese banh mi place in the SGV. The food would be 80% better and I would have spent $5 - $10 less." A lot of the good American food places tend to be very specific too: like good only for breakfasts, good only for hamburgers, nice for Cincinnati-like chili (Chili John's) etc. There should be more places like Du-par's, only much, much better with less expensive choices. And the experience shouldn't be so inconsistent or so stressful. Like at The Golden State — getting a table can get rough, and the food can be really off (I once got sweet potato fries which were mostly black from having been burnt, and soggy, which defied my expectation because you'd think burnt food would be extra crispy — I mean, if you can't get your basic side right, what's the point of existing at all?). Oinkster is pretty inconsistent too (never go during the off hours, like 4 in the afternoon). Or at Father's Office, where the food is always fantastic, but the fight-for-your-own table situation so rough, the side to every meal is indigestion (last time we went, we had to play tag-team with another desperate couple — each couple stationing themselves at opposite ends of the restaurant, ready to swoop at the first signs of an emptying spot). The same at Apple Pan. The busiest Chinese dim sum houses give you numbers. Which is showing respect and consideration for your customers. After all, hospitality is as paramount as good food, isn't it?
I'd like a renaissance of American food. Not the cute interpretations at $20 a plate, but just good, classic fare, a nice blue plate special for $5.99. Last week, I spent an hour on the web looking for a basic caramel apple recipe — what I could find were the ones that advised you to buy candy at the store and melt it (telling you to buy the ready-to-use caramel wrappers is not a recipe)*. This is why I'd like an American food renaissance.
As an aside, here's an unscientific observation. The most demanding, enthusiastic and busy LA Yelp restaurant reviewers seem to be Asian. As a correlation, I often find Caucasian diners at American food restaurants to be not very discerning. Like I was at a nouveau Swedish restaurant and everyone around me was raving about the Swedish meatballs — I thought the meatballs were hard, not seasoned very well, and the milk gravy pretty appalling (I sighed and thought, "I could be eating the meatball plate at Ikea for around $6 — I would have gotten more meatballs, paid about 20% less, the food would have been more authentic, and tastier, too [I'm not saying Ikea food is gourmet or anything]."). To add to this, when I was in college, my fellow diners and I would spend hours complaining about how truly awful the dorm food was (mostly cheap cheese on carbs). The only diner to protest was Caucasian, and she said, "This is a lot better than what I got at home." Our hearts broke for her. So I wonder. Is the Asian food here so much better because Asians grow up eating good food at home (and I mean recent immigrants)? Certainly, there are a huge number of Asian immigrants concentrated in a very small area, but if they weren't so demanding, I'm sure the state of Chinese food in the SGV would be as blah as the state of the American food.
*I did finally find a wonderful recipe at Real Mom Kitchen. The caramel is to die for. Really.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
The Hummingbird Wars
Now that we've installed a hummingbird feeder near our living room window, I've been able to find out a lot of interesting things about these birds. Like how vicious they are. And how smart.
First off, hummingbirds are pretty territorial. Once a hummingbird establishes a feeding ground, it's death to any and all who enter. Usually, one bird will just chase off another, but every once in awhile, it's a vicious duel. I saw a bird get slammed against our window. I felt like we were in the middle of the desert, watching a turf war for water. The sad thing is, the birds end up fighting more than they drink.
Around our little feeder, the dominant bird is a little red-throated fella I've named Ollie. Around three to four inches long, he's about the size of Nigel (who I've written about before), but totally different in character: nervous, anxious, a tad bit psycho. Ollie has an ex — her name is Matilda, an elegant ladylike thing. One day, Ollie was having a drink at the feeder when Matilda shows up. He gives her this look: "Of all the hummingbird feeders in this 'hood, you have to show up at mine." Our other regulars are Tiny and the Masked Marauder, so named because of his iridescent head and his bolshie attitude.
One morning, the funniest thing happened. I was exercising in front of the window that overlooks the feeder, doing that Jane Fonda thing where you extend your arms and move them in circles. Ollie comes by for a hit of juice and takes one look at me and shrieks, "Bloody hell! A giant bird's taken over!" I must have looked like a massive pre-historic hummingbird! He was so freaked out, doing quick flybys to see what the Big Bird was up to, sweatin' his little wings off. We have one of those hummingbird feeders that have detachable plastic flowers that go around the little tube that the birds are suppose to feed from. Ours has four flowers, two of which we can see from our living room window, and two that are hidden from view. Well, ever since I scared Ollie with the Big Bird imitation, he's been feeding from the most hidden flower in hopes that we can't see him (he's really scared of me).
Now the person who takes charge of the feeder is GD — he cleans and refuels the thing every few days. One day, as an experiment, GD took the plastic flower off the far tube in hopes that Ollie would use one of the other flowers so he wouldn't be so hidden away. So, along comes Ollie ... he goes to his favorite "flower" ... he sees that the flower is missing! In shock, he flaps his wings around ... and then, in total fury, he throws himself against the window, looks right at GD, and screams "*@#!!@#*$#@!(@#$" before flying away. He actually knew it was GD who'd taken the flower! Can you believe it! He was so furious with GD — even I've never been that mad at him! Thank god for the window or else Ollie would have thrown a punch (or whatever the equivalent bird thing is).
I made GD put the flower back, but Ollie hasn't forgiven us. I haven't seen him in a couple of days. I think the Masked Marauder has taken over the feeder. Which is fine with me because Ollie was a little too psycho for my tastes.
First off, hummingbirds are pretty territorial. Once a hummingbird establishes a feeding ground, it's death to any and all who enter. Usually, one bird will just chase off another, but every once in awhile, it's a vicious duel. I saw a bird get slammed against our window. I felt like we were in the middle of the desert, watching a turf war for water. The sad thing is, the birds end up fighting more than they drink.
Around our little feeder, the dominant bird is a little red-throated fella I've named Ollie. Around three to four inches long, he's about the size of Nigel (who I've written about before), but totally different in character: nervous, anxious, a tad bit psycho. Ollie has an ex — her name is Matilda, an elegant ladylike thing. One day, Ollie was having a drink at the feeder when Matilda shows up. He gives her this look: "Of all the hummingbird feeders in this 'hood, you have to show up at mine." Our other regulars are Tiny and the Masked Marauder, so named because of his iridescent head and his bolshie attitude.
One morning, the funniest thing happened. I was exercising in front of the window that overlooks the feeder, doing that Jane Fonda thing where you extend your arms and move them in circles. Ollie comes by for a hit of juice and takes one look at me and shrieks, "Bloody hell! A giant bird's taken over!" I must have looked like a massive pre-historic hummingbird! He was so freaked out, doing quick flybys to see what the Big Bird was up to, sweatin' his little wings off. We have one of those hummingbird feeders that have detachable plastic flowers that go around the little tube that the birds are suppose to feed from. Ours has four flowers, two of which we can see from our living room window, and two that are hidden from view. Well, ever since I scared Ollie with the Big Bird imitation, he's been feeding from the most hidden flower in hopes that we can't see him (he's really scared of me).
Now the person who takes charge of the feeder is GD — he cleans and refuels the thing every few days. One day, as an experiment, GD took the plastic flower off the far tube in hopes that Ollie would use one of the other flowers so he wouldn't be so hidden away. So, along comes Ollie ... he goes to his favorite "flower" ... he sees that the flower is missing! In shock, he flaps his wings around ... and then, in total fury, he throws himself against the window, looks right at GD, and screams "*@#!!@#*$#@!(@#$" before flying away. He actually knew it was GD who'd taken the flower! Can you believe it! He was so furious with GD — even I've never been that mad at him! Thank god for the window or else Ollie would have thrown a punch (or whatever the equivalent bird thing is).
I made GD put the flower back, but Ollie hasn't forgiven us. I haven't seen him in a couple of days. I think the Masked Marauder has taken over the feeder. Which is fine with me because Ollie was a little too psycho for my tastes.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Baseball
Confession: I've always hated baseball. I hate playing it and I hate watching it. Playing the game is excruciating (because I suck at anything where you're actually supposed to put yourself in the way of a ball coming at lightening speed — I mean, how stupid is that?); watching the game is just plain boring. But sometimes a game is more than a game, like here, in L.A. Baseball is the Dodgers and going to a Dodgers game just one of those things that you do. Especially when your neighbors offer you free tickets.
Pretty darn good tickets, too. But, as I soon found out, where you sit at a baseball game doesn't make too much of a difference. Because people are right: you don't go to a baseball game for the game — you go for the atmosphere, the spectacle. And it's hard to explain without actually going to a game. Like there's the guy sitting a row above you who gives you a napkin because he can't bear to see you making such a mess with your hot dog. It's all the people hoping and praying they'll catch a foul ball. The woman dancing up a storm trying to get on the Jumbotron. The countless beach balls flying around and the poor ushers playing tag trying to confiscate them. Why?
"Because," our young girl usher explained, "if you're playing Beach Blanket Bingo, you're not paying attention to foul balls, and if you're not paying attention to foul balls, one might just bean you, and we don't want that — I'd rather get beaned myself than have you get hurt."
"Did you hear that?" the young man sitting in front of you cries. "She'll take a foul ball for me! I think I'm in love!"
You jump, you scream, you sing, you do the Mexican Wave over and over again — and in the background there's a game going on. It's really the strangest communal event.
Pretty darn good tickets, too. But, as I soon found out, where you sit at a baseball game doesn't make too much of a difference. Because people are right: you don't go to a baseball game for the game — you go for the atmosphere, the spectacle. And it's hard to explain without actually going to a game. Like there's the guy sitting a row above you who gives you a napkin because he can't bear to see you making such a mess with your hot dog. It's all the people hoping and praying they'll catch a foul ball. The woman dancing up a storm trying to get on the Jumbotron. The countless beach balls flying around and the poor ushers playing tag trying to confiscate them. Why?
"Because," our young girl usher explained, "if you're playing Beach Blanket Bingo, you're not paying attention to foul balls, and if you're not paying attention to foul balls, one might just bean you, and we don't want that — I'd rather get beaned myself than have you get hurt."
"Did you hear that?" the young man sitting in front of you cries. "She'll take a foul ball for me! I think I'm in love!"
You jump, you scream, you sing, you do the Mexican Wave over and over again — and in the background there's a game going on. It's really the strangest communal event.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Serb Fest 2009
It's Fall in LA, which only means one thing: ethnic festivals galore. Greek, Japanese, Korean, Asian, Serbian. Serbian? Seeing the banner blowing in the middle of downtown Alhambra, we had to go.
For a festival, it was pretty low key and noncommercial. Held last weekend at the Saint Steven's Serbian Orthodox Cathedral, it was really more like a local parish fund-raising event than a festival. Admission was only $2, which gave you access to a small food tent, a bar, and entertainm
ent. The food was pricey, with dinners around $11, and the only Serbian beer was really from Montenegro, but the food was good and everyone was having a good time (I think we were the only people who didn't know anyone there). The festival also had a separate children's playground with bouncy castle type things -- but the admission was $20!
Here's a picture of one of our favorite items at the festival, a Serbian fruit cake that was a lot like a trifle. I guess Serbians really like their sweets because there was a whole pastry hall with a great selection of desserts from cheese pastries to strudels.
After having our fill of lamb sandwiches and dessert, we headed back down to central Alhambra and had Vietnamese iced coffee at Banh Mi Che Cali (theirs is pretty good -- they also have great French baguettes you can buy like at a bakery). Where else but in LA can you have Serbian food one minute and Vietnamese the next?
For a festival, it was pretty low key and noncommercial. Held last weekend at the Saint Steven's Serbian Orthodox Cathedral, it was really more like a local parish fund-raising event than a festival. Admission was only $2, which gave you access to a small food tent, a bar, and entertainm
ent. The food was pricey, with dinners around $11, and the only Serbian beer was really from Montenegro, but the food was good and everyone was having a good time (I think we were the only people who didn't know anyone there). The festival also had a separate children's playground with bouncy castle type things -- but the admission was $20!Here's a picture of one of our favorite items at the festival, a Serbian fruit cake that was a lot like a trifle. I guess Serbians really like their sweets because there was a whole pastry hall with a great selection of desserts from cheese pastries to strudels.
After having our fill of lamb sandwiches and dessert, we headed back down to central Alhambra and had Vietnamese iced coffee at Banh Mi Che Cali (theirs is pretty good -- they also have great French baguettes you can buy like at a bakery). Where else but in LA can you have Serbian food one minute and Vietnamese the next?
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Tea
Is LA a Chinese tea mecca? I'm beginning to think so. It certainly benefits from the large, discerning Chinese population. To my delight, more and more sophisticated tea shops are starting to open and here are some of my favorites.
Bird Pick Tea: In the center of Old Pasadena, this is a wonderful place to shop, browse, and drink tea. They have a nice selection of very good quality Chinese teas and very elegant teaware. But more interestingly, along the side window, there are huge glass containers of things like dried lotus flowers, roses, longan, etc. — simply steep in hot water for a healthy, delicious tisane.
The tea is served at a bar where there's a limited menu, from pots of hot tea to iced tea lattes. What I really liked was that you can order a selection of snacks, which includes delicious dried plums. With a large pot of tea, a selection of three is only $2 more.
Bird Pick is actually a chi chi tea outlet of Wing Hop Fung, aimed for the Caucasians. Even the fixtures in the bathroom are ultra chic. One big plus of Bird Pick is that they let you buy as little as an ounce, which is great if you want to try a new tea (or if you haven't been paid in awhile).
Chado Tea Room: In Pasadena and the Fairfax District of LA, Chado is a tea room where you can buy tea. They have an extensive selection of excellent teas at fair prices, but the staff isn't really the friendliest.
Haven't tried the tea room, although the Fairfax room is always tempting.
Ten Ren Tea & Tea Station: I haven't quite figured out Ten Ren. It seems to be the retail tea part of Tea Station, a tea parlor and restaurant. Fantastic teas, but a limited selection. I usually go to the San Gabriel store for a refill of Jasmine tea. Ten Ren has about 9 different kinds, ranging from ~$12.60/lb to ~$100/lb. My favorite is the one for ~$37. Unfortunately, like so many places, the smallest amount you can buy is 4 ounces. Ten Ren also has something called King's tea, a proprietary blend of oolong and ginseng. Can't say I'm that big of a fan of that one.
Tea Station itself is always fun, buzzing with a good crowd of young and old. Great tea shakes and strange concoctions. Who knew tea could be so fun!
Aloha Boba Tea House: Located in a big retail complex in Monrovia, it's one of my favorite places to relax. Order an iced milk tea, sit outside, marvel at the great view of the mountains. You can also buy loose tea, tea sets, sandwiches and ice cream. Great staff.
Bird Pick Tea: In the center of Old Pasadena, this is a wonderful place to shop, browse, and drink tea. They have a nice selection of very good quality Chinese teas and very elegant teaware. But more interestingly, along the side window, there are huge glass containers of things like dried lotus flowers, roses, longan, etc. — simply steep in hot water for a healthy, delicious tisane.
The tea is served at a bar where there's a limited menu, from pots of hot tea to iced tea lattes. What I really liked was that you can order a selection of snacks, which includes delicious dried plums. With a large pot of tea, a selection of three is only $2 more.
Bird Pick is actually a chi chi tea outlet of Wing Hop Fung, aimed for the Caucasians. Even the fixtures in the bathroom are ultra chic. One big plus of Bird Pick is that they let you buy as little as an ounce, which is great if you want to try a new tea (or if you haven't been paid in awhile).
Chado Tea Room: In Pasadena and the Fairfax District of LA, Chado is a tea room where you can buy tea. They have an extensive selection of excellent teas at fair prices, but the staff isn't really the friendliest.
Haven't tried the tea room, although the Fairfax room is always tempting.
Ten Ren Tea & Tea Station: I haven't quite figured out Ten Ren. It seems to be the retail tea part of Tea Station, a tea parlor and restaurant. Fantastic teas, but a limited selection. I usually go to the San Gabriel store for a refill of Jasmine tea. Ten Ren has about 9 different kinds, ranging from ~$12.60/lb to ~$100/lb. My favorite is the one for ~$37. Unfortunately, like so many places, the smallest amount you can buy is 4 ounces. Ten Ren also has something called King's tea, a proprietary blend of oolong and ginseng. Can't say I'm that big of a fan of that one.
Tea Station itself is always fun, buzzing with a good crowd of young and old. Great tea shakes and strange concoctions. Who knew tea could be so fun!
Aloha Boba Tea House: Located in a big retail complex in Monrovia, it's one of my favorite places to relax. Order an iced milk tea, sit outside, marvel at the great view of the mountains. You can also buy loose tea, tea sets, sandwiches and ice cream. Great staff.
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