Panini Cafe

I always forget about Panini Cafe. If you want a salad, and I mean, a good salad–a big salad–and a good cup of soup, Panini is there, just waiting for you.  It’s unassuming, it’s delicious, it’s hearty, and it’s worth every penny. And, almost more importantly, it’s the perfect place to take someone when you don’t know where to take someone.  It’s got a plethora of options; from salads, to sandwiches, to meat plates, to veggie plattters.  And the portions are huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge. Even if they don’t look like it here.

 

Lentil Soup

Chicken Panini Salad

Salmon Salad

 

Din Tai Fung

I thought I didn’t like Chinese food. I thought I didn’t like dumplings. I would now like to go back in time and slap the &%$* out of myself from 10 years ago for making me waste all the time I could’ve been eating dumplings.  Because, done right, they are SUBLIME. I mean, have you ever had soup dumplings? Because if you have, and you know me, and you didn’t come up to me and say “AK, soup dumplings are the most amazing food in the world. I mean, if you haven’t eaten them, you should slap yourself in the face, and immediately go eat ten of them.” If you did not say that to me, and you knew this secret amazingness, don’t tell me, because you will be dead to me. DEAD. So is the salty, sour, vinegary, gingery, warm, amazballs essence of Din Tai Fung in Arcadia. 

People, THIS SHIT IS GOOD.

Evidence:

Every week, there’s a different vegetable.

GET THESE green beans if they’re available.

The Wonton Soup is perfect with soy sauce and chili oil.

Steamed Pork Buns. Just…sigh…delicious…

The money shot: Juicy Pork Dumplings.

Vinegar, ginger shreds, chili pepper flakes, and soy dipping sauce.

Get out of my way, I will eat your fingers if they’re in my path.

Pork and Shrimp Shu Mai…soupy in the bottom, shrimpy on top. 

Perfect all around.

So good, I don’t want to eat anywhere else, ever.  But I’ll suffer through other meals, just to survive, until I get to go back.

THAT’S how good it is.

La Cita

 

If ever you need a Bloody Mary around…oh…say, 5pm, then you’re in the mood for one place, and one place only.  That place is La Cita in Downtown LA

 

Sure, you’ll have to push your way through the seedy, rabble-rousing, nearly elderly group packed like cattle in the inside, dark as black-ink bar. But once you make your way to the bolted-down-tile-floored patio out back, you’re in a different world, baby. Just don’t start a fire, because the exits don’t work, and the fences are decorated with barbed-wire. For a reason that has nothing to do with hipster-chic.  

Langer’s Deli

 

Believe it or not, I’d never been to Langer’s before yesterday. I wasn’t sure what to order, so our fine waitress suggested the #19, the most popular sandwich–a pastrami with cheese, coleslaw,  and Russian dressing. Sure…sounds good…but I was in the mood for something hot, crunchy and gooey.  So a grilled pastrami with sauerkraut it was. 

    And, it was one helluva sandwich, let me tell you.

Javier’s

Not often enough, but about twice a month, our Sunday Fun-Day crew ventures out from the far Eastside border of LA, piles into an SUV, and heads out to the land called Orange County. To an oasis of gourmet Mexican food, crispy, over-inflated cougars, and an all too thoughtfully stocked bar.  Perfect for a day of sitting back, getting blurry, swallowing down salty delights, and people-watching. This place, my friends, is Javier’s, in Crystal Cove.

We’ve been there enough that when Orlando spots us shuffling in, he clears our seats at the bar and lays out our usuals before we even slide into our spots.  Mine: A Don Julio Anejo, neat. In a snifter, please. Yes, I am an 82-year-old Latin man. And then, before you know it, the goodies, crunchy, gooey, cheesy, salty, start arriving…

Perfect beef taquitos

amazing shrimp enchalladas

And my favorito, the wet bean and cheese burrito. O to the MG.

We sit, we chat, we eat, and we DRINK. Food comes, plates are taken away. There’s an out of this world ceviche, a secret Habanero salsa that will rip your taste buds right off your tongue, and a steak picado that will make you forget your mother’s name. It’s all amazing, from the food on your fork, to the bleached out 57-year-old 36-quadruple-D’s winking at your husband. And, if you’re like me, it’s a Sunday Fun-Day you’ll want to have over and over and over again.

 

P.S., I Love You.

Last weekend was a Palm Springs kinda weekend.  Well, actually, it really was a Palm Springs weekend. Literally.  I mean, we went to Palm Springs.  And we went with a horde–16 in total, spread between two houses with 8 beds.  It was an old-school, high-school, spring break throwback.  And food was an issue. 

  

Bristol Farms kept our fridge stocked, and between breakfast, deli snacks/spreads/crackers/cheeses and crusty breads for lunch and mid-day snacks, there was nothing we were without. But, the king of our culinary cravings, was the massive 17lb, bone-in prime rib roast that somebody’s genius husband (mine) decided we’d cook for dinner. 

He tried and tied, and moved, and maneuvered, but could not get that behemoth into one pan, so as much as it hurt him, he had to cut the sucker in half.  Which, actually worked out nicely for all those end-cut people out there. And there they sat, warming up to room temp, salted, dusted, and at the ready, while I layed out, oiled, greased, and charring by the pool…

                            

For a side, the man in the kitchen whipped up a pan of his amazing potatoes au grautin with a touch of gorgonzola cheese…

and once those hunks of steak came steaming out of the oven, we were all in hot, sticky, Palm Desert, overcrowded, drunken mobbed-up heaven.

      

President’s Curried Eggs

Last night, while I was away at a westside spinning class, and nomnomnoming at A Votre Sante with my girlfriends, my family ordered my favorite takeout: President Thai. I’m hard pressed to pick a favorite dish, but the one I have to eat until it’s gone, or until I want to vomit–either from the spice, or the sheer gluttony–is the Green Curry with Shrimp .  I was stuuuuuuuuuufed from my own dinner, so even the smell of coconut milk, red chile, and happiness couldn’t lure me into another meal so soon.  Lucky for me, my big giant man of a husband tucked my tub of tastiness wayyyy back in the fridge so the ravenous pack of hyenas in my kitchen, howling at the burn in their throats, had no idea it was there.

I stayed up as long as I could, hoping, waiting, almost praying for a tiny tiny twinge of hunger to tap me on the tummy, to no avail. So, I went to bed, full, happy, and excited for Thai in the morning. But when I woke up, I wanted eggs. I wanted curry. But, I wanted eggs. …do I dare…? Should I try…? It sounds gross…but I wannnit. So, I did it.

I separated the egg whites, because egg yolk and curry sounds sickeningly heavy first thing in the morning. Then, I grilled the shrimp, whipped the curry with the eggs, and,  took a chance on life….

And, believe, you, me: I will be doing this a lot more often.

Salad Farm

Sometimes, you just want a good salad.  Like, a goooood salad. With a whole lot of crap in it.  Sunflower seeds, garbanzo beans, kidney beans, avocado,carrots,cauliflowermushroomscucumbers …you get it.  But, where…? There’s nowhere. WAIT! …oh…no…that place sucks.  WAIT! That…other…place…? What was it…?

Guys, it was Saladfarm.  A place with FORTY different kinds of salad. And a few Panini, but who cares…it’s SALADfarm, stupid. You don’t order chicken at the chop-house, and you…well…actually, the Panini look good here too. But the salads lure me in like a motherfather, and I can’t get away. 

So, take a long lunch one day, drive down Fig toward USC  and, boom. A good damn salad.

  

 

   

  

 

Whole Foods

I love LA. Because, here, sometimes all it takes is a quick trip to the supermarket to transform a mediocre office day into the best day of your life so far. Whole Foods, and three of my best friends did that for me today. Look at these pictures! I mean, come on?
Forget about the ride from Downtown to Pasadena–it was the most amazing 12 minutes of my life. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I won’t even try.
Once we got to Whole Foods, Walter in the Pizza section slipped me a sample of the Vegan veggie pizza that tasted way too good to be vegan. I’m pretty sure Walter’s a damn dirty liar. …okay, probably not, but it was so good it made me want to slap somebody. Instead, I moved onto the sandwich station.

There, Tim pushed a sample of the Chili Colorado Quesadilla on me. We fought for a quick minute, “i want to be healthy, and that is NOT healthy, TIM!!!” but, I lost the fight and bit into the siiiick (in a great way) sloppy mess of pepperjack, pepperonchinis, green chili stewed beef, and magic. Hot damn, I was sprung. Tim jumped to action, and by the time I could wander to the sushi bar and munch a free salmon roll sample, Tim had Panini-pressed his way to my heart.

Did you know that there’s a damn CHOCOLATE BAR at Whole Foods Pas? Now you do. And you’re about to find out that I finished up with a rich, heavy, chunk of heaven, in the form of a double dark chocolate truffle and a 1/4lb of pomegranate jellybeans. Whaaaaaaaat??? Yes. I just blew your mind. Don’t believe me? Try it out one lunch hour, and see for yourself.

The Slaw Dogs

 

On the weekends, I roam with a pack of wolves.  A hungry, ravenous, wild, pack of wolves. Usually, we’ve had a morning feeding by the time we convene on any given Saturday morning, and we meet with one thing on the mind…lunch. I have the fortunate distinction of marrying into this crew, and I couldn’t be prouder. We wake, we snack, and we set out, looking for the good eats lurking in LA. Sometimes we find them, but Lord help anyone in our path when we fall short, and Sweet Baby Jesus, help the fool who recommended a place that falls below par. So, thank you, The Slaw Dogs, for showing up when we rolled in.  It may have been your good name, but it was my ass on the line.

 

Our group is a hearty crew: at our usual max we roll 6 guys deep and two girls who know how to eat.  And drink, but that’s another post… This Saturday, we decided to head to Pasadena, for no particular reason, and so, I threw out the name of a newish place with some Tiwtter buzz : The Slaw Dogs, a ”gourmet” hot dog stand thunk up by Ray Bryne, former managing partner of Il Fornaio, and his wife Amy.

We’re a Montebello/East LA gang, and our boys are usually game for pitting our hometown Chronis snapdog against any new kid on the block. What, you think you’re something special, vato…? We seen a lotta snapdogs around here, homes…you aint just walking in and claiming new ground. So, off we went…with a quick drive by Dr. Drew’s Pasadena Recovery Center, to tactfully steal a gawk at celebrity train wrecks struggling with life-threatening addiction, just down the street. Don’t judge. 

Now…FOOD!

 

 

We walked in and took in the chalkboard.  Then ordered almost everything. Well, it felt like we ordered almost everything, but there is MUCH we didn’t get to. We started with the fries. Garlic? Yep. Sweet Potato? Sure. Chili Fries? A must. Onion Rings? Why not. Ray was there to greet us, with a happy, laid back vibe, and couldn’t have been happier with the way we started our order. In the end, we ordered six dogs and four apps, and didn’t have a bad word to say about any of it.  The Green Monster, The Chili Dog, The Thai Slaw Dog, The Pastrami Dog, The Ruben Dog, and The Picnic Dog…all lovingly demolished.  Ray was a great host, catering to our every need: water, napkins, and, what the hell, another dog here and there. The unique flavor combinations danced on our palates, and stuffed us to the very tip-top.  Perfectly portioned to jet-fuel us for our hunt for dinner.

    So thanks Ray and Amy.  I survived another Saturday suggestion with your delicious dogs, and it looks like I’ll live to tell another greasy tale, hopefully sometime soon.