Three Items

I have some items.

The Red Car River Park, on the LA River, steps from Trystero HQ

After I posted about Trystero, Greg Thomas's Atwater Village home coffee-roasting operation, good buddy Jeff Miller, senior editor of Thrillist Los Angeles, caught wind of the story, and ask me to write up Trystero for Thrillist (!!).  I did; here's the post.  I'm happy to report that since the AKOY and Thrillist posts, Greg has gone on to quit his day job (!!!), and once he's back from a well-needed vacation, he's making Trystero his full-time gig.  Wishing him the best of luck!

rooftop view of Williamsburg

Speaking of vacation, forgive me for not posting for a bit.  I'm just back from an amazing trip to New York and Montreal (aka dreamland city of charming cafes).  I walked a lot.  I miss that.  Photos coming soon.

This.   This is an excerpt from an interview with Anthony Bourdain, in AAA's Westways magazine of all places.  We've seen Bourdain go full dick mode on Sandra Lee or Rachel Ray, but my favorite Bourdain moments are when someone's grandma makes him a meal at home, and you see this tall American television star's eyes soften as he's humbled by her warm, modest hospitality.  The sentiment expressed in this one paragraph is so important to me:  be interested, get past formalities, connect on a human level.  Just show up and be grateful.

Trystero Coffee: Atwater's Own Garage Roaster

There's something specific I hope to celebrate with this blog.  Well, it's a few things, but they swirl together, and to me, they're pretty inextricable.  It's what drives my obsession with outdoor spaces (why, oh why, can't we have plazas?) and motivates me to walk or take the train. It's the spirit of having a great idea, starting where you are, and using what you have to make a little magic happen.  It's that feeling you get when an opera slowly materializes around you as you walk through Union Station.  It's what attracted me to the rustlings around Frogtown and the LA River, it's the force that pushed me to organize five years of amazing bake sales, raising tens of thousands of dollars for charity and bringing an entire city together over homemade whoopie pies.  Really, it's the very thing I love the most about living on the east side.  I talk about food here, but I do so because food brings people together.  It comes down to community, and the glimmers of light that grow when people decide to bring something special to the table.



So, I'm excited about today's post, because the topic exemplifies this magical thing, maybe more than anything I've ever written about here.  Plus, this goodness I'm talking about is being generated by coffee!  After my own heart.  A few months back, I discovered Trystero Coffee:  basically a guy in Atwater Village, roasting coffee in his garage, delivering by bicycle.  Already an amazing story, right?

the esteemed roaster

Then, I tasted the coffee.  I'll just leave this here:  The city's best coffee comes from a garage in Atwater Village.  I've now tried several varieties, and across the board, coffee made from Greg Thomas's garage-roasted beans is never bitter, always rich, and balanced just right.

But there's more to Trystero than just great coffee.  Most Saturdays, Greg opens up the garage to visitors, so I went to say hello and pick up my beans in person this weekend.  He's set up the modest space like a bohemian living room: between unfinished wood walls decorated with eclectic posters and clippings, mismatched chairs and and a funky old couch make for a welcoming place to meet your neighbors over a smooth cup of joe.  And Greg creates a warm vibe between strangers -- shaking your hand as you come in, and introducing everyone to each by name.  It's pretty special.

Hospitality reigns in the Trystero garage: after we'd been sitting for a bit, Greg turned from the espresso machine and said with a smile, "Can I make you a cappuccino?"  Uh, yes.  Not surprisingly, it was awesome.  Sweet without sugar, and again, perfectly balanced.

a perfect cappuccino

On this particular day, Trystero's ad-hoc coffeehouse was host to some community organizing.  Greg had opened up the garage to a couple Atwater residents collecting signatures in favor of adding a pedestrian path to the nearby Glendale-Hyperion bridge.  I'd walked the bridge that morning to get to Trystero, and it's utterly treacherous for pedestrians in its current state (though the view of the LA River from the bridge is pretty sweet).  So, petitions were signed, and the morning's coffee klatch talked about the project, about the neighborhood, about great bars and the Portlandification of Los Angeles.

treacherous bridge, beautiful view

And in addition to coffee, Greg uses the Trystero website to organize small events surrounding other passions:  bicycle rides, loud fun music, analog photography,  good beer, and camping with friends.  So much goodness.

So, in about an hour's time, a small group of strangers shared some knowledge and some warm hospitality, worked towards improving the neighborhood, and created a major spark of community.  All because a guy decided to do a little something great.  It's amazing what can happen over an exceptional cup of coffee.

bridge still treacherous, view still beautiful

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Trystero Coffee is at 2974 Glendale Blvd.  Check the website for ordering details and delivery schedule.

[Incidentally, if you're interested in signing the Hyperion Bridge petition, let me know!]

Fat Uncle Farms: Finding Joy in Almonds

Regarding almonds: they're the best.  I have a giant bag of roasted almonds at my desk at work and eat them pretty much every day.  Almonds are my constant companion and I love them.  So, you can imagine my excitement when my old friend Lisa connected with her old friend Nate, a man who spends his days dealing in almonds. Lovely reader, I'd like to introduce you to Fat Uncle Farms.

[Full disclosure:  Fat Uncle Farms gave me lots of delicious free almond products.  But, even if they hadn't, I'd still think they're awesome.]

I met Nate at Fat Uncle's stand at the Atwater Village farmer's market one sunny Sunday not too long ago, and he told me a bit of the Farm's story.  Both he and his wife come from almond farming families, and both were in more traditional day jobs before they decided to take on the family business.  For the past five years, they've been growing almonds in a lush orchard in the San Joaquin Valley and turning them into delicious specialty items, which they sell at farmer's markets around town.  They also have some impressive commercial customers:  Proof Bakery uses their almond flour in its sweets, and SQIRL Cafe uses their almonds for the almond butter they slather on morning toast with jam.

Back at the farmers market, Fat Uncle has a variety of products, all made simply and with wholesome, familiar ingredients.  I'm really enjoying my personal bounty.  I've been piling up rosemary blistered almonds (just three ingredients: almonds, rosemary, salt) on cheese boards and adding almond butter (one ingredient: almonds) to banana and date smoothies.  But my favorite has been to spread chocolate almond butter (two ingredients: chocolate and almonds) on a piece of wheat toast and topping it with a sprinkle of coarse sea salt -- a decadent little snack.  And this weekend, I made an insanely delicious spicy chocolate tart, topped with the aptly named Ass Kickin' Ginger almonds (five ingredients:  almonds, salt, sugar, ginger, cayenne.  Addictive combo of sweet, salty, and devilishly spicy).  The tart is so good, it's going to get its own post.

For the short few weeks when they're in season, Fat Uncle even offers fresh young almonds:  mouth-puckeringly tart, fuzzy green on the outside, with a bright crunchy texture.  They've even been known to feature house-made marzipan.

Fat Uncle Farms are strong believers in community outreach and sustainable farming practices.  In fact, Nate and his wife Bekki live on a working farm in Lompoc. They've recently renovated the the ranch-hand's quarters and are offering it as a getaway destination on airnbnb.  Guests can help out on the farm and enjoy its bounty at meals, explore nearby wineries and beaches, and take quiet hikes through the surrounding rolling hills to views of the Pacific Ocean.  Honestly, the place sounds like an absolute dream.

You guys know that I'm driven by a sense of community.  I love sharing stories of food connecting people, and when the blog itself makes that happen, well, it makes me beam.  I'm so glad to have met Nate.  The story of Fat Uncle Farms, the way they treat their staff like family, their choices in living close to the land, are all so inspiring.  And even better, now I know that their chocolate almond butter is always just a Sunday farmers market away.

Fat Uncle Farms can be found at several farmers markets around LA.  Check out their website to find the nearest one or order online, or find them on goodeggs.

A Train Runs Through It: Atwater Crossing Kitchen

What I miss the most from my old neighborhood is the Farmer's Market.  It offered this amazing space where you could be around people as you had a meal, but were also totally anonymous.  There was no table service, there was plenty of seating, you were in an airy environment that kind of even felt outdoor.  Once you got your food, you were pretty much on your own -- bring a couple magazines or a crossword puzzle and hang out all day if you wanted to.  I lived half a block away, and I miss it bad.


I'm surrounded by restaurants in Los Feliz (and the nearby neighborhoods), but sometimes nothing hits that sweet spot of casual, easy, anonymous, delicious.  Enter Atwater Crossing Kitchen.  Order your food at the counter, then hang out undisturbed in their summery courtyard dining area.

Atwater Crossing is a strange and wonderful place -- 2 blocks of industrial buildings house creative offices, artisanal manufacturing facilities, locations for photography and film shoots, and theaters, and the events there are eclectic and funky.  The area surrounding the Kitchen portion includes a small screening/performance room, a wine and beer bar, and that courtyard dining area with a couple communal tables, as well as a bunch of single-party ones. 

no train...

Oh! And said dining area is situated right next to a railroad track. So, every once in a while, a train chugs by right next to you! It's the coolest thing ever.

...train!

The food isn't bad, but it still needs some tweaks.  They capitalize on a wood-burning oven for flatbread pizzas that often have a Middle Eastern bent.  I had a sujuk pizza that had tons of flavor, but it was greasy and soggy in the middle, and the fresh arugula on top should have been picked through for yellow leaves.  The menu's a little weird, too:  on weekends they serve breakfast until 3, which is awesome, but you can't get anything off the lunch/dinner menu (say for example, a salad) other than pizza until after 3.  It's kind of a bummer to sit in the sunny courtyard, and not be able to enjoy a fresh, light lunch. (UPDATE:  The kind folks at Atwater Crossing itself commented below to note that lunch is in fact served before 3 now.  Awesome!)

yes, that's my finger.  hi.

Overall, though, I'm totally stoked that this place exists.  The courtyard is perfect for lunch on a sunny day, but now that the days are getting longer, I can't wait to go there for an evening glass of wine.  I know I started off singing the praises of the place's anonymity, but I just changed my mind.  Atwater Crossing Kitchen is actually totally awesome and neighborhoody; of course I want to be its friend!

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Atwater Crossing Kitchen is at 3245 Casitas Ave.

Secret Places

Have you been to 55 Degree wine shop in Atwater Village?  Nice place, lots of wine, blahblahblah.  But did you know that if you step towards the cash register, there's a stairway that goes way down to a cellar that is a secret wine bar?  It's a treasure.

It's a pretty special space.  Much larger than the store itself, it's cavernous, and yet with its dim light, it's intimate.  It's a place for telling secrets.  Order a drink from the lovely person behind the counter -- in our cases, it was a flight of cavas, whose Spanish names the British barmaid lovingly pronounced with an Italian accent.  Maybe pick up a bite to eat from the food truck outside, or just grab a handful of almonds from the counter.  A few sips in, you'll find yourself sharing things you'd squeezed super-tight not to let out.  Your non-judgmentalness muscle will be challenged as your companion starts sharing taboo secret things of her own.  As you dip into the glass of mineraly Santa Barbara Giallo that you probably didn't need after the generous flight of bubbly, you'll find that that muscle is stronger than you'd even imagine.  And so are you.  Which, maybe, is a fact worth sharing.

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55 Degree is at 3111 Glendale Blvd., just north of Glenfeliz.

I Guess I Like Fusion

Awesome article in today's LA Times about a few 'fusion' places in LA. It features interviews with two of my favorite local food people, Tai Kim of Scoops and Viet Tran of Viet Noodle Bar in Atwater Village.

The article isn't talking about fusion in the sense of weird Asian-French-Indian-Mexican hybrids, but rather a more organic fusion that comes with starting with a set of tried and true recipes, then tweaking them according to the new and exciting ingredients available here in abundant Southern California. I like this. Tai makes fun of hipsters and calls his particular style 'confusion', and Viet is fascinating and sweet in introducing us to bits of Vietnamese cuisine we never imagined existed.

Both men, along with Jorge Mora, the the man behind the Guadalajaran smoothies (with a SoCal twist, of course) at Olimpus Juices (I have to -- have to -- go here! Like, now.), get into the artistry behind creating their flavors and the Zen-like concentration with which they craft their product, whether it's ice cream, soy milk, or smoothie. Go read now.

More:

• My own chat with Viet a few months back.

• My long-standing love affair with Scoops. (What's not mentioned: the pint of white chocolate/mint/banana that Tai gave me as a birthday gift on Monday night. See that? Love.)

[thanks to sarah palmer for the photo]

4 non-food-related things that are really cool

Oh, Los Angeles, you never fail me.

• The Silent Movie Theater. I mean, they show a documentary about tea, complete with an intermission tea party -- a generous serving of rare oolong and home-made potstickers -- on their lovely Spanish patio. They screen Jim Henson rarities, and when the 8pm and 10pm screenings sell out, they add another screening at midnight. There are couches. What's not to love?
  

• Taking the subway to Staples Center. Faster than traffic, easy peasy, drops you off across the street, and if you're lucky, the whole train will break into Bon Jovi's "Wanted, Dead or Alive" mid-commute.

• Tuesday nights at Heartbeat House, an awesome dance studio in Atwater Village. First, JP will whip you into gear with his Latin/hip-hop stylings and sweaty, high-energy beats in his Zumba class. Then Heather gets you to work muscles you didn't know you had, all in the most feminine way, in her Bellydance class. Might be my favorite two hours of the whole week. (They also have an 80s dance party class, people!)
  

• Thai massage. Is the best thing ever. For one, it's cheap ($45 for an hour!). For another, along with all the regular massage stuff, they yoga you. So, not only are you kneaded and smushed, but your sore, stagnant, muscles are stretched in just the right ways. Quite possibly the best, and most effective, massage I've ever had.

[Thanks to KarenLeah for the Silent Movie Theater photo.]

The Man Behind the Noodle

I get a certain thrill when I meet a person who's solidly interesting. It's always fun to hear a new set of stories, especially when they take you to exotic lands and out-of-city experiences. I had just this kind of experience the other night, chatting with Viet, the owner of Viet Soy Cafe in Silver Lake and the new Viet Noodle Bar in Atwater Village, my personal Tuesday night dinner table.

My cousin Mikey, a USC film student, lives upstairs from Kaldi Coffee House on Glendale Boulevard. His roommate is the son of a man named Avo. Avo owns Kaldi, the apartment upstairs, and a good chunk of the block, including the space now filled with Viet Noodle Bar. Thanks to his associations with Avo and his son, Mikey is very much part of the boulevard's community. So, as we finished up dinner, Viet came over, and a compliment from Mikey on the tastebud-singing C-shot rolled into a conversation that had us lingering at the table long after the last diners had left.

So what did we learn? Well, Viet came to the United States around 20 years ago, but took a seven year break a few years back. Two of those years he walked the earth, then planted himself in a small fishing village in northern Vietnam for the remaining five. From the locals, he picked up techniques: working with just-caught fish and rice straight from the local fields, they had to plan meals carefully, as there was no refrigeration. It was here that he learned the fundamentals that inform his menus today -- 'peasant' food in sharp contrast to the French-influenced bahn mi so beloved around here: rice noodles, soy milk and other soy products, fish cookery, and rice wine.

When I expressed an interest in the last item, he smiled and offered me a taste. He pulled out a curvy oversized green glass jug, holding a clear dark brown liquid, and poured a small glass. This particular batch, he'd flavored with crab apples, and its fruity flavor barely masked its potency. Nothing like soju or sake, this tangy, slightly sweet rice wine tasted unexpectedly familiar, warming, and thoroughly drinkable.

He's got some interesting ideas for the new space. The eponymous noodles are the focus, and now that winter is upon us, he's added two pho dishes to the menu: a chicken variety ('no hoisin and basil!' the menu warns us firmly; Viet states that hoisin is good with beef but overpowers delicate chicken.), and a vegetarian pho with meaty chunks of rolled soy skin, shiitake mushrooms, and lemongrass. I had the latter, and with its slightly sweet broth, soft noodles of irregular widths, and generous spray of cilantro and green onions, it hit the spot in the blustery night. But get the pho while you can: in the summer, he's planning to go with lighter noodle dishes like vermicelli. The menus at both of his restaurants are all-organic, and he plans to re-open Soy Cafe on Hyperion after the holidays.

Mikey prodded him about rumors of a night market. Nothing is set in stone, but he's talked with another local business owner about the possibility: stands selling produce and street foods in the wee hours on Friday nights. A far cry from the quiet nights in a fishing village, no doubt, but sure sounds interesting, doesn't it?

Viet Love

Guys, I'm really excited about this one: I've found more to love in already-beloved Atwater Village. You know how the neighborhood where you work sort of becomes your second home? Well, I now work in Glendale, but I've found close-by Atwater to be more my speed. It has a hip, somewhat big-city sensibility, but there's a sense of community that you don't often find around these parts. People strike up conversations and introduce themselves by name -- everyone seems to be glad to be there, and glad that I'm there too. Since I started taking an awesome belly dance class at Heart Beat House, and discovering Kaldi coffee house and Tacos Villa Corona, not only do I discover more great spots in that bit of town each week, it actually gets better itself. The latest addition to Atwater's stretch of Glendale Blvd., Viet Noodle Bar, has taken the goodness to new levels.

I have so much good to say about this place. Every detail seems so thoughtfully handled, from the clean minimal decor warmed up with brown leather chairs and beautiful flowers, to the soft classical music playing in the background, to the rows of books piled down one long white wall of the restaurant. The menu is small, but every item on it is interesting. Viet Noodle doesn't try to take on a lot, but it takes its small charge seriously, and elevates casual dining. As you take it in, you get a sense of the place's unpretentious sophistication (I mean, I got to browse Hip Hotels Italy while dining on my summer rolls. Doesn't suck, right?).

I stepped in to the long white room and seated myself at one of the two communal tables stretching the length of the cafe. Sparse crowd, but then it was only 6ish, and it is a new restaurant after all. The lone waitress affably engaged me immediately -- describing every item on the menu (not that huge of a feat: there are about eight right now), asking about the studio up the street where I dance, offering her name (Melissa. Go say hi to her.) and a friendly handshake. Then she moved to the next party, where one guy gave her a copy of his book. Yep, this place fits into the neighborhood just fine.

So, what's on that little menu? Three small plates: Vietnamese 'tamales' of banana leaves filled with shrimp and a soft rice pancake; summer rolls with jicama, carrots, fried shallots, tofu, and basil; and some sort of salad involving jackfruit and I-don't-know-what. Two noodle dishes: one with whitefish, one with soy skin. Ginger soy curd for dessert. Pho coming soon.

The beverages are not an afterthought: Offerings include homemade soy milk, plain or with various flavorings. The roasted sesame soy milk is delicious -- just be sure to stir up the specks of black sesame seeds before each sip or risk gentle admonishment from the owner. The prize is a swirly combination of the most fresh, clean-tasting soy milk and a grown-up recall of the taste-memory of childhood sesame candy. Delicious, but I can't want to try the mint flavor next time. There is also a black bean 'tea', and one made with lo han fruit (not familiar with the fruit? Ask the owner -- he'll bring one out to show you).

So, yeah, Viet Noodle satisfied on many levels. And after class, as I walked out to my car around 8:45, I passed by again, and every seat was filled. It looked like a cozy, vibrant dinner party in there. See, I told you Atwater Village was friendly -- news travels fast around here.



Viet Noodle Bar is at 3133 Glendale Blvd., between Glenfeliz and Edenhurst. And at the moment, it's cash-only.

Come and Knock on the Griffin

Every person inside the Griffin, a loungy tavern in Atwater Village, looks like this:


Every person outside the Griffin looks like this:

Joking aside though, the Griffin is a lot of fun, and is not unlike the Regal Beagle. It's very local and subtly hip. Carpet and dim lighting make it cozy. You might run into someone you know there from Santa Monica -- I did, as well as a friend from West LA, and a couple others from Silver Lake, and a few from the valley (for some reason everyone in town is driving miles east to this place for a night out -- maybe a night in Atwater Village's mellow urban suburb is a nice reprieve from the sceney scene farther west). And you might see Jack and Chrissy secretly handcuffed together at adjacent tables.

For all its fancy decor, it's a familiar place. The bartenders are friendly, and drinks are cheap. There is a smoky patio out back, but you won't find Jack Tripper in chivalrous fisticuffs with some octopus of a man who won't take "no", let alone "I can't go out with you tomorrow night because I have to wash my hair", for an answer. Mostly because there's no room for fisticuffs. It's super-cramped, so you can't really be shy with your neighbors. But it's fun that way: just like on "Three's Company", hi-jinks ensue.

Also, there are a lot of misunderstandings at the Griffin.


[Note to self: don't drink and blog.]
The Griffin is at 3000 Los Feliz Blvd., at Boyce Ave.