Happy Birthday to Golden State

Monday night at Golden State was pretty much like any other night at Golden State.  You walk in, you're greeted with earnest warmth, you invariably run into someone you know, and mouthwatering food, Scoops ice cream, and a ridiculously good beer list are all at your disposal.  Except last night, the kitchen guys relinquished the grill so that Mexicali Tacos could take over, and instead of burgers, they were vending cachetadas, vampiros and other awesome/exotic combinations of grilled tortillas, melted cheese and copious amounts of meat (more details on the food here).  After all, it was a celebration:  The Golden State turned two years old on Monday!

It was good to be there.  I've felt like a part of Golden State since the very beginning.  I was there at Jason's mom's house, when Samir made the very first incarnation of The Burger, and then expected us to put into words how delicious the thing was in focus-group-esque questionnaires that helped determine the menu that the cafe still offers today. (We also got a taste of the legendary beer affogato:  Jolly Pumpkin's dark ale, mulled with spices, reduced to a syrup, and poured hot over Scoops brown bread ice cream. Unholy good.)

When they painted the outside of the shop, I dragged myself out of bed and up Fairfax to come take photos.  I hung around during back-and-forth with contractor after contractor.  Over months, I heard every detail of city codes, regulations, and licenses, and began to wonder if the restaurant would ever open. 

Open they did, and I was there the first night (pictured above).  It became my go-to when I was hungry for food and socialization.  I could walk the three blocks from my apartment and know I'd be among friends.  Jason would chat about beer, I'd get updates from Jim as he went from newlywed to homeowner, to dog owner, to dad, and when they were busy, Rene would entertain me between grilling burgers with his absolutely nonsensical conversation.  I even did a stint behind the counter one afternoon!  After my first taste of the Golden State Salad, I chided Jason and Jim about my new least favorite thing amidst a menu of knockouts.  We almost got in a fight that day, but now it's our joke:  they threatened to name it after me, and now every time I go in there, they offer me a Sassooni Salad.

When I did a blog mash-up with Food Marathon, taking him through my hood, I made sure gstate was on the itinerary.  We were greeted there by my dear friend Nick -- Jim's brother visiting from New York, and after a bunch of other friends showed up still reeling from dinner at animal, an after-hours dance party erupted in the place.

Jim and Jason kindly contributed to No Cookie Left Behind the last 2 years (though they had to hold down the fort at the restaurant during the actual event); they've been nothing but supportive.  They hooked me up with bake sale contributor Kristin Feuer of Bakelab (back when it was Laurel Avenue Bakery) after she brought them a box of cookies, unprompted, to sell at the restaurant.   And after the 2009 bake sale, satisfied, but totally spent from a full day of bake sale action, nothing felt better than plopping down in their familiar dining room, sipping a cold beer, and watching the Lakers beat the Magic in the playoffs. 

It's pretty amazing.  A couple knuckleheads don't have a mite of experience with restaurants, but have excellent taste and undeniably keen intuition.  And within 2 years, their place is named one of Jonathan Gold's 99 Essential Los Angeles Restaurants. Though I don't live in the neighborhood anymore, the Golden State is essential to me, too, and for me it's also a source of great pride in my friends.  Here's to many more beers, many more burgers, and many more years of success for Jim, Jason, and the Golden State Cafe.

--
Golden State Cafe is located at 426 N. Fairfax Ave., 1 1/2 blocks north of Beverly.

Food Blog Mashup: The All Kinds of Yum Food Marathon

A food blog mashup: two food bloggers come together to eat, meet, and take awkward photos in restaurants. One provides the premise -- that's Food Marathon, with his flights through several eateries in rapidfire succession; the other provides the location -- Fairfax Avenue, where I could offer Food Marathon a taste of my neighborhood, all within a block's walk.

Food Marathon likes to keep some anonymity on the web, so we'll refer to him as FM from here on in. Since FM already had covered West Third Street with another favorite local blogger of mine, I suggested Fairfax. And since the offerings on Fairfax lend themselves to late night noshing, we decided to make it a night owl's food marathon. In a gametime decision, we nixed Chameau, since, despite its delicious Moroccan fare, there actually is a limit to how much I can eat in one night. This left us with three stops: Canter's, Animal, and Golden State.

We met at Canter's Delicatessen, immediately got past the potential weirdness of a blind meeting over nothing but food (guess it's not that weird to us anyway), and got down to business. We ordered four items, all noteworthy for the restaurant: corned beef on rye, known as some of the best in town, the humble waffle, which LA Magazine named the best in the city in 2005, the meticulously composed fruit cup, and an egg cream -- a throwback to FM's childhood Canter's visits.

As we ate, we talked -- not just about food, though it was a popular topic. FM's made it a point to get to know as many local food bloggers as he can, and it was eye opening to me to learn what a network our city has developed over the many years. He also told me about his idea for a different kind of food mashup -- taking items from different restaurants, and combining them to make new dishes -- all while sandwiching some corned beef between a couple waffle wedges, as if to demonstrate his point.

All well and good, but it was time for the next stop. FM handed off our leftovers to a homeless guy outside Canter's, and we stepped over to the bar at Animal. It was here that our mashup would soon take on new meaning, but we didn't know that yet. What we did know was twofold: Joe's doughnuts and the bacon chocolate bar. The latter has been the talk of Animal since its opening -- the old schtick of the two dudes that are such meatheads they even put pork in their dessert. And it was all you'd expect: rich and chocolatey, with that winning salty-sweet-smokey combo. But the other dessert, Joe's doughnuts, completely stole the show. I'd had them once before, and was excited to share them with FM. And to eat them again myself -- these doughnuts are incredibly delicious. They come freshly made and warm, three fluffy orbs, in a pool of dark caramel sauce.

It was as we were leaving the restaurant that one table caught our eye for two reasons: I saw a guy I met at 11 in 11 (talk about food marathon), FM saw an old high school friend. Both were the same guy. This one table brought the mashup full circle, as social circles merged unexpectedly. FM caught up with a couple more schoolmates as I chatted with another 11 in 11 compatriot; they all mentioned their plan to go to Golden State after their dinner, and then Jon Shook, whom I'd first met through Golden State's Jason Bernstein at Animal's soft opening, came out and told us how well the restaurant was doing in the late night hours. Exactly why we were there!

We let our friends carry on with their dinner though, as we still had to get to Golden State ourselves. I walked in immediately elated: Golden State is home turf for me, and in addition to owners Jim and Jason, two of my best friends, Rachel and Nick -- Jim's brother, in town from New York to check out the new place -- were also hanging out. Though I was hoping that FM might see the place for more than his first impression of "Scoops comes west", we really couldn't eat anything substantial at this point. So, he got Scoops. And I got wine. And we chatted with my friends. Jason and FM talked shop, Jim told us the history of the Canter's fruit cup (apparently an old schoolmate of his has made a documentary on the topic), ice cream flowed, and -- I hope -- good times were had.

But eventually, every great mashup must end. FM said his goodbyes, and I hung back at Golden State a little longer. At some point the rowdy crew from Animal made their way in and a dance party ensued, with my friends and FM's friends rocking out together in the middle of the now-closed restaurant. Welcome to my neighborhood, Food Marathon. This is how we do things here.

--
Here's Food Marathon's take on the night.

Canter's Delicatessen is at 419 N. Fairfax.
Animal is at 435 N. Fairfax.
Golden State is at 426 N. Fairfax.
All of these spots are between Beverly and Melrose.

Golden State Thursday!

If you're reading this and it's dark, that means tomorrow. If it's light, get yourself to 426 N. Fairfax for Golden State's opening day. We checked in with them when they were building, and I wrote about them here, but I've been obsessing pretty much every day in between. Constantly checking in with Jason and Jim (Jason Bernstein and James Starr, the owners of the place, are dear friends), stopping by to see progress, picking up a rad gold-foil-on-black g-state tshirt, listening in as they negotiated with contracters, then hearing the saga of codes and inspections and rules and fees.

And now, it's a real restaurant! So excited! A casual place in my neighborhood where I can go for a beer, for Scoops, for delicious and reasonably-priced food, all in a gorgeous industrial space, run by my own friends.

But beyond the personal connection, what's wonderful about this restaurant is how deeply entrenched it is in its surroundings, the Fairfax Village neighborhood. On one wall hang old black-and-whites of what the neighborhood used to look like: during the soft opening Saturday night, Jason's mom pointed out the The Budapest Restaurant in one photo. Formerly located in the spot where Largo was formerly located, it was a frequent dinner spot for her family. The owner of the Golden State space is the father of one of Jim and Jason's high school classmates. The art on the walls is by local artists who also happen to be personal friends. The sign outside the shop was painted by Norm Maxwell, the owner of the gallery next door, whose storefront Jim and Jason painted in return. There is so much heart in this place.

So, starting tomorrow, get yourselves to the Golden State! And tell them I sent you.

The Golden State is at 426 N. Fairfax, between Oakwood and Rosewood. Call them and tell them you already miss them: 323 STATE-31

Items of Note

More real stuff coming, but this is real stuff too.

1. These are two trees on my street. Aren't they pretty?

2. This is an Ascaso espresso machine. I am desperately in love with it. Anyone have 700 dollars burning a hole in his or her pocket?

Shoot, didn't think so. (PS, this model is called The Dream. Fitting.)


3. This is 2 photos of The Golden State, taken by Tasha of Blackburn and Sweetzer. Almost ready for prime time, this hub of beer and sausage and Scoops is. She chatted a bit with Jason and Jim, the owners, last week. Check it out, along with more pictures, here.


4. This is another pair of photos taken by Tasha. She's good, isn't she? This time, it's of the Norm Maxwell Gallery, which is also on Fairfax, next door to the Golden State. She talked with Norm, the owner of the gallery, presumably around the same time she talked to Jason and Jim. He features urban art: some local, some international, some affordable, some pricey. I'm really excited about what he's bringing to Fairfax. Check out Tasha's post, with lots more photos and lots more from Norm, here.


5. This was the spread at Din Tai Fung (the new space, which is quite bright and modern and pretty!), last Sunday morning. Lots of amazing dumplings obviously, but see that near-empty plate of fried rice in the corner? Yeah, the reason it's empty? Because that humble mix of rice, scallions, and egg is magically delicious.

Dumplings are tasty, but they can be deadly. Thank goodness they come with instructions!

6. This was a wonderful winter night. Local friends and visiting friends, drinks in the lounge at Casa Del Mar (which is to say couches, fireplace, cozy), and a heated game of Apples to Apples. When it's cold outside, laughing keeps you warm.

7. This is a painting by Ryan Callis. You can find it right now at Taylor De Cordoba gallery on La Cienega. Inside the slit, it says "It's OK". Which, in fact, is true.


Okay, I think that's enough items for today.

Oh wait, one more! Check out the timestamp on this post. Friends, it's 1234-time! Go on, sing the song!

--

The Golden State is at 426 N. Fairfax Blvd., between Oakwood and Rosewood, and might be open by mid-February?
Norm Maxwell Gallery is at 430 N. Fairfax, just north of Golden State.
Din Tai Fung is at 1108 S. Baldwin Ave. in Arcadia. Note that this address is for the original restaurant. The new space is just around the corner, behind the original. If you're going for weekend dumplings, get there before they open: a line forms.
Hotel Casa Del Mar is at 1910 Ocean Way in Santa Monica.
Taylor De Cordoba is at 2660 S. La Cienega in Culver City. Ryan Callis' works are on display there until February 14, but pretty much all of their artists are great.

Fairfax: The Third Wave

a little local color

In the near-seven years that I've lived a quick walk away from Fairfax Village, that stretch of the eponymous street between Beverly and Melrose, it went through an odd transformation. While its traditional mix of old-country Jewish establishments and gritty punk rock sensibility still held strong, a new urban hip-hoppy scene developed there over the last couple years: think Japanese kids in baggy shorts and fancy Nikes stopping for mandelbrot at Schwartz Bakery. Now Fairfax is changing once again, to something hipper, a bit more grown-up, and far more delicious.

I have walked this stretch of Fairfax maybe five million times, so I quickly learned what it's about: guys decked out in skinny black jeans, pale gaunt scowls, and spikey dyed hair share the sidewalk with headkerchiefed bubbes picking up their Sabbath rugelach from Diamond Bakery. At Canter's Deli, you can order your matzoh ball soup from a booth dedicated to none other than devotee Rodney Bingenheimer, local hero who pretty much created an alternative music scene here in Los Angeles. Or do some late-night brooding in a dark banquette at Damiano's, then wash down the sausage pizza an ornery tattooed waitress threw on your table with a bottle of kosher wine you picked up at Sami's market up the street.

Hall of Fame

But in the last few years, the vibe took an unexpected turn -- to streetwear. It started with Supreme, with its giant stylized skate bowl taking up most of its shop; and now every other storefront is some riff on the streetwear theme. Shops like Flight Club LA, Hall of Fame, and alife elevate the scene with stark, gallery-like stores, while Reserve teaches the skater kids some hip-hop history with its collection of vintage art and graphic design books.

peaceful coexistence

Lately a whole new thing is going on. Somewhere amongst Fairfax's Jewy punk-rock history, the street-kid finery, and the tiny art-nerd subculture held down proudly by the Family bookstore and Cinefamily at the Silent Movie Theater, things are getting fancy. But it's a kind of fancy that still suits the neighborhood. Delicious things are afoot, but they don't seem to come with pretentiousness.

Schwartz kosher bakery and Animal, together in perfect harmony

John Shook and Vinnie Dotolo's restaurant animal opened last week, and while definitely a fine dining establishment, it also has, even with no art on the walls yet, a bit of edge, not to mention a sense that it will quickly become a go-to for regulars looking for a casual place to dine on artful market-fresh dishes.

Largo no longer

Even the French restaurant slated to open in the Black Sea space can't be too snotty. I mean, it's owned by the former manager of Dominick's -- a place that beautifully walks the line between an elevated dining experience and an unostentatious atmosphere. And, it's going to be called Mec -- French for dude. Dude.

soon to be Golden State

And then of course, there's Golden State. Granted I'm biased, as the owners, Jason Bernstein and Jim Starr, are close friends of mine, but this also means I can tell you more about these guys. Between the two of them, they have an encyclopedic knowledge of food, wine, and especially beer -- they're really thoughtful about eating and drinking. But don't expect their restaurant, taking over the Nova Express Cafe space, to be stuffy: their goal is to bring the best of what California has to offer -- in beer and wine, as well as pub food and a few impressive culinary tricks up their sleeve. To me, Golden State could be exactly what our neighborhood needs: good food and drink, reasonable prices, in a casual, but not dumbed down, venue.

what will come?

I'm guessing this is just the beginning -- now that Largo has moved to the Coronet Lounge space on Beverly, its old space is available, and there are a few others up for grabs as well. Here's hoping, as the Fairfax District grows and changes, that it gets more and more delicious.

A Work in Progress

Last Sunday, Jason Bernstein called with the classic Jason opener.

"Tannaz Sassooni, what are you doing right now?"

I was in my PJ's, still in bed, IMing with a friend, but quickly threw on some clothes, grabbed my camera, and walked over to the restaurant -- I know what's good for me. Jason and our friend Jim Starr are opening The Golden State -- a new restaurant in the old Nova Express space on Fairfax -- and they were in the middle of some serious building.

When I got there, someone was replastering the storefront -- it was still half black, half white, while someone else was up on the roof, installing something really big. Jason and Jim are still haranguing with contractors, but the place is coming together.

If you use your imagination a bit, you can see how the aesthetic -- a clean white space marked by one brick wall, exposed roof beams, and a few geometric asymmetries -- will complement their simple but not dumbed-down menu (designed by chef Samir Mohajer) that includes sausage sandwiches, a burger you will not believe, Scoops (!!) ice cream (the Golden State will be the only place you can get Scoops outside Tai's original store in East Hollywood), and an awesome beer and wine list -- just the kind of spot our neighborhood needs.

I don't ask when the place is going to open anymore, because if there's anything I've learned from Jason and Jim, it's how close to impossible it is to go through the hoops necessary to open a restaurant in this town, but it's coming together in the next few months. Start getting excited now.

a little angel on the concrete wall out back, compliments of neighboring artist (and owner of the property), Harry Blitzstein

[more here at Eater LA]
[and more photos here]

animal. soft opening. i was there.

putting on the finishing touches

You know those stories girls tell, where they had nosebleed seats at the concert (you know, Billy Joel or the Stones or something), and some guy treks up to their section and whisks them down to the front row to squeal and revel in their favorite pop idol's sweaty rockstar glory? I kinda had that tonight.

I've been hearing about the opening of animal, the restaurant from local caterers John Shook and Vinnie Dotolo (aka the Two Dudes -- remember their Food Network show?) for a good while. And I was excited: I watched the show, and saw the dudes -- eminently competent chefs -- in action, so I had a bit of personal investment in the enterprise. I felt a lingering affection for the space from its T on Fairfax days. And, come on, Fairfax is my hood. Of course I'm stoked about new spot a quick walk from home.

But I knew these guys cook pretty fancy, so I figured it'd be a while before I made it over. I mean, I certainly didn't think I'd be spending tonight sharing a dining room with the fish guy, the insurance guy, and some hipster swilling Tecate from a can with his flatiron steak with bordelaise and sweetbreads. But then comes Jason. My dear friend Jason Bernstein, who's written here before, is, along with our friend Jim Starr, opening a bar and restaurant -- Golden State -- across the street from animal in the coming months (more on that soon!). Jason and Jim were invited to animal's friends and family opening tonight, but Jim had other plans, Jason called me, I was in, horray!

Friends, animal is good. It's funny to think how the food is best typified as light, extremely fresh, almost feminine in its delicacy, amidst all the hoopla about the greasy stoner dudes who opened a restaurant called animal. In fact, tonight there are several seafood options, and quite a few vegetable-centered ones as well. (Who knows if they'll be there tomorrow: as Shook explained to us when he stopped by the table, the menu -- as well as the beer and wine list -- is in constant flux.) The amberjack poke is a beautiful dish: pink and dainty with the freshest fish, tiny wedges of rosy peach, and lightly spicy harissa. The rock cod, served with a chervil butter and vegetables (melty leeks and spinach, sweet farmer's market carrots in orange and gold), never felt heavy, but had the savory punch of a much richer dish.

The food shined the brightest when it was at its simplest. Heirloom spinach with poached egg, bacon, bread crumb, and la serena cheese, was delicious: like no other spinach I've encountered, it had a crinkled leaf and a kale-like heartiness. Perfectly cooked and seasoned, slightest acidy tang, rich with egg yolk -- good, good good. And for dessert, we opted against the wacky bacon chocolate bar, and went with a simple take on a classic: ginger creme brulée. I agree with Jason's assessment: the creme brulée was spectacular. Beneath the crackly browned sugar crust, the ginger added sweet warmth without a hint of sharpness, and the texture of the custard was absolutely luscious.

It's a new place, and they've still got some kinks to iron out: the copper bar is gorgeous, but the stark white walls are aching for art (although, ladies, the women's bathroom? Surprisingly well-decorated. With vintage accents and fresh flowers, it might be the coziest room in the restaurant!). The espresso machine isn't in working order yet, Jason had to ask for a glass for his beer, and, the service is a bit rushed. But these are all fix-its. Overall, the place is inviting and funky, bustling with conversation. Even though, sigh, I'll have to go back to the cheap seats for my weeknight dinners, it's nice to know the view from the front row is very, very good.

animal is at 435 North Fairfax, between Oakwood and Rosewood.
Call for a reservation: 323 782 9225

Blowing Your Mind with Broccoli

Guys, it's a saladbook recipe.  Are you excited?  Well, you should be.  I mean, there is no salad, there is no book.  But there is broccoli.

And as it's touted by the blog post where I first discovered it, it's truly the best broccoli of your life.  (Incidentally, said blog -- the Amateur Gourmet, which was a pretty lovable blog to begin with, just got better: its writer, Adam, has just moved to Los Angeles from New York, and it's pretty fascinating seeing to see the city I know and love through the wide, hungry eyes of a newcomer.  Imagine discovering Thai Town, Zankou Chicken, or beloved Gjelina, for the first time all over again!  And this sweet soul hasn't even tried the Golden State burger yet!  Ah, so much to look forward to!)

Anyway, roasting broccoli with bits of garlic in the oven until its little tendrily 'leaves' become crisp and browned and totally heightened in savory flavor is the absolute most delicious way to eat broccoli ever.  Super easy to make, too -- major return on investment.  Tonight, I tossed the broccoli with some whole-grain fettucine to turn it into a meal.

The spirit of the saladbook is simple homey meals that don't sacrifice taste, but still maintain a good balance of vegetables, whole grains, and good protein.  I hit the first two, but to get some protein in there, I added some parmesan cheese (yeah cheese is kind of fatty, but good parmesan adds huge flavor with a small portion), and some chopped pecans.  I think pine nuts would actually be better, but I dealt with evil car dealership issues so horrendous today that I had to resort to a salted caramel mocha frappuccino.  With whipped cream.  And that insane starbucks caramel sauce.  Heaven.  All of which is to say is that going to the store after work was no-way-no-how going to happen.  Thus, chopped pecans from the freezer.  This recipe also happens to be vegetarian (vegan if you omit the parmesan).  Of course, you could change that.  Remember our old friend Adam from paragraph one?  Sometimes he throws some shrimp into the oven with his broccoli.  Might be even tastier than salted caramel mocha frappuccino.


Pasta with Roasted Broccoli

My sister swears by the browned bits of garlic in this recipe ("They're like candy", she says), and she may have converted me.  So, by all means, feel free to use more.  And on the topic of proportions, I won't tell you what to eat and what not to eat (oh wait), but consider what lovely Mark Bittman has to say about flipping the pasta-to-topping ratio.  He makes a good point.

1 1/2 c broccoli florets, rinsed and fully dried
1 clove garlic, chopped
extra virgin olive oil (use a tasty one; it's a simple recipe)
1 sensible portion whole-grain pasta (I used fettucine)
1/4 cup pine nuts or  chopped pecans
1/2 lemon
parmesan cheese

Bring a pot of water to a boil; preheat oven or toaster oven to 425F.  Line a baking pan with foil and add broccoli.  Drizzle with olive oil; toss to coat.  Sprinkle with salt, pepper, and garlic, and toss again to combine.  Roast broccoli for about 15-20 minutes.

In the meantime, cook pasta according to package directions, then drain, reserving some of the cooking water.

Start checking on the broccoli at about 15 minutes.  When it's bright green, cooked through but still crisp, and just beginning to brown, add in the nuts, give the pan a toss, and cook for another 3 minutes.

Toss pasta with broccoli mixture (you can use the same pot you used to cook the pasta).  Add some more olive oil, salt, and pepper.  If it's dry, add a spoonful or two of the reserved pasta water.  Squeeze on some lemon juice.  Top, on the plate, with grated or shaved parmesan cheese.

Panama City, I like you

Since I started writing this little blog many years ago, something big has changed. It's called Facebook. That thing is the blog to end all blogs. You post pictures and thoughts and musings and curses with the click of a button. It takes zero effort! So, by the time I get around to posting here about things, like say a trip to Panama, I've kind of already gotten it out of my system.

Lucky for you though, I am endlessly verbose. I'll find a way -- 112 photos, 1 video, and countless status messages, comments, likes, and super-pokes later -- to make it fresh. Besides, I haven't told Facebook a single word about what I ate in Panama. That's all for you, baby.

Now then. I can tell you what I didn't eat: Panamanian food. Oddly enough, my trip -- 4 wonderful nights spent between Panama City's romantically retro Casco Viejo area and a barely-walled hut on a Carribbean island that's a forty-minute boat ride out from the nearest town -- included more cases of gourmet European takes on the local bounty of seafood and produce than anything traditionally Panamanian. That tells a story of modern Panama though: laid carefully over the country's own rich heritage, international prospectors and expats are taking Panama in new directions (as in, shopping malls and bennigans. yikes.).

Let's start in the city. Here's the deal with Casco Viejo: beautiful colonial buildings now in ruins. Colorful, grand buildings, many are which are roofless, windowless, completely gutted, and overgrown with moss and grass (sad, but wonderful for an afternoon's exploring). In the last few years, though, the artists have figured out the area's potential, and cropping up among the ruins are stately restorations housing art spaces, jazz clubs, wine bars, and more.

the insane view from kevin's apartment

We had the luckiest hookup in history, and stayed with friend-of-a-friend (and our new best friend) Kevin, a Chicagoan with a top-story apartment in the heart of Casco Viejo: rooftop balcony, midcentury furnishings, art and books strewn everywhere, a baby grand in the window (!), and air conditioning to boot. Kevin is in the process of restoring a delapidated 3-story building into an art space: gallery, studios, cafe, bar. Basically, Kevin is the coolest person in Panama. No, seriously.

cow's tongue carpaccio and grilled shrimp with tamarind sauce at Manolo Caracol

Our first night there, we went to Manolo Caracol. Ten-course tasting menu, Andalusian owners (and thus, delicious Spanish house wine, of which we partook generously), focus on local, seasonal ingredients and lots of fresh seafood. Highlights: tiradito de dorado (freshness incarnate), shrimp with tamarind sauce, Kevin's velociraptor impression.

our guitarrista in Plaza Bolivar

Then, we had a mojito in Plaza Bolivar. Plazas might be the best thing ever. Walk a couple blocks to a grassy public square, sit at one of the surrounding tables served by Ego Y Narciso restaurant, sip some minty goodness, enjoy a serenade by a sweet gentleman wandering among the tables with his guitar, take in the balmy summer night surrounded by others doing the same. We liked it so much we came back on our last night in the city -- for sangría at Casablanca restaurant on the other side of the plaza.

La Casona

And then, we went to la Casona. La Casona de las Brujas is yet another building dedicated to art, music, culture, youth. We went to the bar. Dark and gritty, with weird things dangling from the super-high ceilings and strange images projected on one wall. Brought Kevin's friend Rafa home with us, stayed up until 4am on the balcony drinking wine and talking crazy (6am flight to Bocas the next morning notwithstanding. I'm not smart.).
A few days before leaving for this trip, I ran into Tai (owner of Scoops) at Golden State and mentioned to him that I was going to Panama. He told me to look out for a particular ice cream shop there: apparently one of Scoops' rotating art exhibits -- a set of photos of an impressive array of ice cream scoops -- was taken there. I remember these photos -- they really were great -- but no way was I going to search the country for this place. But lo and behold, seeking reprieve from a sudden thunderstorm, Rachel and I ducked right into it! Turns out it's a fancy French ice cream shop in Casco Viejo called Granclement, and the back wall is lined with a million ice cream scoops. Try the coconut sorbet (and avoid the fresh basil ice cream; it tastes like pizza).

We did make a quick stop in Cafe Coca Cola, purportedly the oldest cafe in the city. It's as close as we got to actual Panamanian food, not to mention cute old men in hats that looked like Buena Vista Social Club. All I had was a cafe con leche, but it was solid.

OK. That's enough for tonight. Island roundup to come in a subsequent post. In the the meantime, from my vantage point, Panama was incredibly picturesque, and I managed some gorgeous photos. Check them out.

Ottolenghi at animal

What do you call it when you know everything about a person and that person has no idea you exist?  Oh, stalking.  I don't remember where I first read about Yotam Ottolenghi, but that name pulled me in immediately.  I tried to make sense of it:  last name is definitely Italian, first name sounds Hebrew.  I want more info.  (I was similarly intrigued when I first of Adriano Goldschmied.  What can I say?  I love a pizza bagel.)

Needless to say, I got a little stalky.  I started scouring the internet for information.  I learned that Chef Ottolenghi is an Israeli of Italian and German descent, with a grandma who recreates her own little Tuscany there, down to the imported espresso she drinks every morning (though I am partial to the Elite brand instant coffee served in yellow mugs ubiquitous in Israeli households, I can't begrudge Ottolenghi's Italian grandmother her real-deal coffee).  I also learned that with head chef Sami Tamimi, a Palestinian who, like Ottolenghi himself, is a handsome young gay man in stylish nerd glasses, he owns a series of vegetarian restaurants in London, with huge spreads of irresistible baked goods and menus based on fresh seasonal vegetables, prepared simply to bring out their best.

There was so much to love here, and in the sunny vegetarian recipes that Ottolenghi posts on the Guardian, with their constant nods to Italian and Middle Eastern Mediterranean cuisines, that in my head I entertained ideas of going to London just so I could try his restaurant (and take pictures, and blog about it, obvs).  The food, and the stories, resonated with me in a very personal way.  So, when I found out Chef Ottolenghi was hosting a dinner right here in Los Angeles, at beloved animal, I jumped on it.  Five courses, all vegetarian fare, eached paired with wine.  (Note: four of those five were rosés, two of which where sparkling.  Wine for a summer night after my own heart.) 

goat cheese ravioli with turmeric and pink peppercorns

The preparations were simple -- not unlike the kind of food I like making for myself on a weeknight -- but were executed really well, with perfectly fresh ingredients.  Plates were easy to deconstruct.  Nothing was trying to be meat.  Really, nothing was trying to be anything other than what it was.  All of the dishes came from Ottolenghi's new vegetarian cookbook, Plenty, and for each dish, the focus was a vegetable: eggplant was cooked over open fire until it was totally soft and smokey, zucchini grilled, and tomatoes roasted to bring out their sweetness (the latter for a dish called 'tomato party'.  Who doesn't love a tomato party?), or left raw -- after all, in some cases it's best not to mess with natural beauty.  Flavor was heightened with a variety of cheeses, lemon zest, toasted nuts, and torn fresh herbs.  Everything tasted bright and alive.

tomato party!

Having said that, I have to admit: the food left me wanting a little.  Somehow the dinner's presentation -- small, sparse plates -- didn't meet up to the festive abundance you see in images of the restaurants.  Though a salad of watercress, orange blossoms, and toasted pistachios seemed to bounce off the plate with flavor, this kind of fare is a little too delicate overall to satisfy on its own.  (Fortunately, we knew a place across the street.  Please don't tell Chef Ottolenghi that we topped off his meal with a big bowl of fries at Golden State.)

milk pudding with toasted coconut and almonds

But maybe the real prize here is the chef himself: he's totally charming in person, and as you see in the notes above every recipe in his book, he's also chatty and generous with stories and tips.  We discovered that his sister lives in the same suburb of Tel Aviv as my uncle, and he mentioned to us that he went to Joan's on Third that day for lunch, and Joan wouldn't stop feeding him (she must have been thrilled at the chance to indulge in her motherly overfeeding instinct).  This latter fact makes perfect sense:  she probably sensed a kindred spirit in this Italian by way of Israel who came from London all the way to Los Angeles to teach us a thing or two about vegetables. 

panama! and beer-float-off!

friends, i'm off to panama tonight (go on, sing the van halen song), but if i were to be in town on sunday, july 26 at 3:30 pm, i'd be at the LA BEER FLOAT SHOWDOWN. golden state/scoops crazy delicious concoctions versus bottlerock/milk's own innovative contenders. you'll drink a lot, you'll eat a lot of ice cream, and proceeds go to 826LA, which is a lovely organization.

get all the details here, including how to get discount tickets.

hasta next week!

[thanks to Dan4th for the photo]

Coconut Ginger Granola

I've been meaning to make granola for months.  Today I reached granola critical mass.


It's a four-day weekend and everyone's out of town.  After a seeming eleven months of summer, it's grey and raining outside.  A few weeks ago, when I made fesenjoon and had friends over to watch Bourdain in Iran (Did you watch it?  Did you also discover that it in fact was possible to love him more than you already did?  Did you watch Vice's even-more-awesome 3-part Munchies Guide to Tehran?), a friend brought me some homemade granola, and it reminded how satisfying homemade granola is.  Then, over at Sabzi, Sara wrote this evocative post, with those photos in that cozy cold-weather light.


You guys, I ate so much in the last week.  It wasn't just Thanksgiving (though, my goodness was it Thanksgiving), it was amazing slices at Jim and Jason's newest Fairfax spot, Prime Pizza (followed by Scoops at Golden State, natch), it was three servings of truffle mac and cheese at work, it was In-n-Out for dinner, Grandma Nanny's apple pie for breakfast...just a bad scene.  An extremely delicious bad scene.


And in my case, this kind of marathon gorging leads to sore throat and Harvey Fierstein voice.  Really sexy.  Everything I read about what to eat to combat a sour stomach led me to two places: ginger and oatmeal.  And that's been guiding my diet the last few days:  ginger-miso soup with leftover turkey, chai-spiced oatmeal with fennel seed, ginger, and cardamom, and lots and lots of ginger tea.


And this.  Finally, today, I made granola.  I started with the Early Bird / Orangette recipe, the same one I was gifted, the same one Sara used, the same one I always make, because it's empirically the best.  But, I went a little "island" with it:  in addition to adding both fresh and powdered ginger, I replaced the olive oil with coconut oil, the brown sugar with coconut sugar. And I sprinkled the finished product with fresh lime zest.  A little "lime in the coconut" action.  And as usual, I left it in the oven as long as possible.  Admittedly, this technique leads to some casualties, but a couple pecan burn victims are well worth the deep flavor you get as the granola really browns.



The result was great.  It had all the familiar toastiness of the original recipe, with brighter pops throughout from the lime and ginger.  And the lime and ginger go really well with the coconut.  The best part of the process was adding the lime zest: it audibly sizzles and hisses (!!!) as it hits the hot granola.  I think the original recipe remains my go-to for every day, but when you need something special to brighten a grey day, throwing some ginger and lime flavors into a coconutty granola is a good way to go.

Coconut Ginger Granola
Makes about 7 cups.
Adapted from Orangette.

The coconut oil will solidify at room temperature, so once you've added it, keep the mixture moving, and get it to the baking sheet quickly.

3 C old-fashioned oats
1 C pumpkin seeds
1 C sunflower seeds
1 1/4 C unsweetened coconut flakes
1 1/4 C pecans, halved or chopped (I used a combination, as that's what I had on hand)
1 tsp salt
2 tsp ground ginger
2 Tbs grated fresh ginger
2 Tbs ground flax meal (optional)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 C maple syrup
1/3 C coconut sugar
1/2 C coconut oil, melted
zest of one lime

Preheat oven to 300F.  Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, mix first ten ingredients (oats through vanilla) to combine evenly.  Add maple syrup and coconut oil, and stir to thoroughly combine.

Spread mixture evenly on prepared baking sheet.  Bake, stirring every 15 minutes, until the granola is deep brown, about 45 minutes.  Remove from heat, and add lime zest.  Allow granola to cool before stirring lime zest through.  Store in an airtight container.

A note on gluten: I've added the gluten-free label to this post.  If you avoid gluten, you'll know better than I do to read labels to be extra sure. But, if you make this with gluten-free oatmeal, then the recipe is gluten-free.