Monthly Archives: October 2011

Apéritif & Amuse Bouche ~ {Local LA Bites & Delights}

Posted on by

0

Julia Child said, “Find something you’re passionate about and keep tremendously interested in it.” I am a passionate woman, and much like Julia, I do love to eat. So being a sensual foodie, there are many food adventures that I have taken great pleasure in (with much thanks and endless gratitude to Darling), and not enough time to write about them (i.e., eating, dining, and luxuriating in gourmandise abandon). I’ve allowed the memories to simmer on my mental stove, stirring the pot, and checking the temperature in my oven. Some articles are not quite done. So I’m calling this post “Apéritif & Amuse Bouche” to whet your senses. Here are some bites to keep your eyes and mouth ready for more…

My love of Thai food knows no bounds. Here are some sexy and spicy dishes I’ve enjoyed at a few local Los Angeles Thai spots:

Pad Thai Noodles at Thai Chaba.

Thai Chaba is a sweet little surprise hidden away in Calabasas. Every detail of our meal was full of care and the people that run Thai Chaba were absolutely darling. We got the overall feeling that they put themselves into each dish— presentation, flavor, fragrance, texture. The Pad Thai Noodles were gloriously good.

Ah, the Ginger Pork Curry at Spicy [Thai] BBQ was one of the most delicious curries I’ve ever had. Richness and depth of flavor, velvety like a stew. Sumptuous. Soul satisfying. And, I do believe the large slices of ginger were truly of an aphrodisiac nature. The ginger was everything to this curry. The sexiest curry of my life. The pillowy sticky rice drenched in saucy rich curry, peanuts, and ginger sent me over the moon and back.

Jitlada. Pumpkin Salmon Curry. Since childhood I have loved Thai food, and frequented many Thai restaurants in Los Angeles, and so I can say from experience, of all the Thai restaurants, my heart and soul belongs to Jitlada.

Spicy Curry Turmeric Fried Rice at Jitlada. 

I haven’t known Jitlada long, but it’s begun a passionate affair with their Southern spicy Thai cuisine. I’m madly in love. And did you know that turmeric is an aphrodisiac? Yes it is. Period. The Turmeric Fried Rice has intense spice that doesn’t overwhelm the flavors, and wow wow.

Jazz & Tui ~ photo courtesy of LAist

Like a whirlwind romance turned long term, I’m getting serious about Jitlada, and I’m crazy for the family that owns it, Sarintip “Jazz” Singsanong and her brother Suthiporn “Tui” Sungkamee. Jazz is warm and welcoming, beaming with sunny hospitality. A beautiful lady with a big heart. Her brother, “Chef Tui” is a masterful chef of Southern Thai cuisine.

I had the great fortune of a four-hour-and-some long lunch with the lovely Jo of My Last Bite and friends, along with my Darling. Visiting with Jo was her brother Greg Barnes, Scotsman and musician extraordinaire. Not only did I derive such pleasure from Jitlada’s exquisitely spicy food, but the company was such that it made it a memorable day, full of serendipitous events such as it being Chef Tui’s birthday celebration. Jo is the queen food blogger of My Last Bite, and someone I have admired. I love Jo’s passion for food. What struck me more about Jo before meeting her was the About Page on her blog. I knew when I read about her I would absolutely adore her. And I do! Jo is a dedicated diner-turned-family member of Jitlada, going through every dish on the extensive menu (I think that particular lunch she mentioned reaching dish 254 on the menu). Read the article “Food Blogger’s Extreme Eating Challenge” by Los Angeles Times writer Betty Hallock for more about Jo. 

Chef Tui and his wife Oun (Ratchanee) during his birthday celebration are pictured (right) during the end of our epic luncheon. It was a happy moment full of laughter, smiles, posing for photos, and more dessert! We had already indulged in two desserts (I can’t end a Thai meal without mango sticky rice) before we knew that Jazz was coming into the restaurant, lighting up the birthday cake, and serving it forth with her generous soul and radiant smile.

The mussels at Jitlada were fabulous, but even more so was the broth. It was sublime with sticky rice in a bowl full of delicious broth after the mussels were all eaten up.

Dynamite! Chef Tui’s signature spicy dish. We had it with tofu. Our eyeballs burned deep in the farthest recesses, our ears buzzed, our tongues savored with dangerous abandon. We got our endorphin rush and high off of this superbly spicy Jitlada dish. Chili is an aphrodisiac, however, kissing should be done with caution. 

When Sunday comes along, what better way to begin it than with a warm almond croissant, fresh from the baker’s oven? Tarte Tatin is the place if you want to taste a real honest-to-goodness freshly baked flaky and buttery croissant.

And Tarte Tatin is quite a discovery.

When you have had a warm croissant freshly baked in the morning, the frangipane paste in generous daubs within its belly of mille-feuille layers so delicately buttery, golden with lightness, the toasted almonds dusted with powdery confectioner’s sugar like an angelic pastry, well.

My three year old daughter knows what is good.

She could not help but lick the plate clean of all the powdered sugar. Of course.

Ohh yes… My ultimate pizza foodgasm happened the moment I sunk my teeth into Osteria Mozza’s squash blossom pizza. Thank you Nancy Silverton and Mario Batali for making this wondrous creation of heavenly pizza. Joe Bastianich, you too. Osteria Mozza is one pizza spot that puts Los Angeles on my gourmand map of fabulous discoveries. 

And if I ever wondered if there was a possibility of multiple foodgasms to be had in one sitting, it was again over their butterscotch budino.

Really and truly. I did have a real orgasm in my mouth. There are no words for what my moaning and sighing can express in aural/oral eloquence. No wonder the waiters were staring at me with amusement. Did I look like I was having an orgasmic moment? Ah, but I was. The butterscotch budino was smooth, creamy, buttery, caramely, it sang with its fleur de sel on the tongue. What poetry could I write about butterscotch budino? Creamy wealth of egg yolk, gold of munificent pleasure, essence emulsified, heavy cream, dark brown sugar, you make me want you. Your custard body tastes like the tongue of a secret lover, stolen in the shade of an Italian alleyway. 

Late evening comfort food dinner adventures. It was fairly late and we wanted some comfort food. Something good and cheap. Chego. Chef Roy Choi’s little spot on Overland in Culver City/Palms was the place. I had the Buttered Kim Chi Chow Bowl. 

Darling had the Chubby Pork Belly Bowl. Good thing he is skinny.

We also began with the grilled romaine lettuce and finished off our Chego bowls with an dessert of potbingsu. Now you would think the potbingsu would be a small portion for five dollars? Oh, think again. It was a stromboli of an shaved ice dessert. A huge bowl of shaved ice with homemade strawberry syrup, fresh and preserved fruits, mochi, condensed milk, azuki (red bean) and toasted grain powder topped the sweet thing.

On another night, we thought Chego might be open, but they were closed. So we ended up at AFrame in Culver City, another Roy Choi endeavor. Again, naughty girl (or hungry girl) no photos. I loved the sweet potato fries.

Another adventure. We took a little jaunt through downtown Los Angeles’ hidden gems, and had a quick glass of vino at Swill. Sorry, I was a bad girl and ate up the olives and tater… I mean, ahem, hotten tots. And, silly me, I forgot to take photos (no evidence of the guilty little pleasures).

But right close to Swill was Mexicali Taco & Company (secretly tucked away in the alley at 1820 Industrial St. in the DTLA Arts District). Mexicali’s amazingly sensual vampiro was just as good as the first time I experienced it, with garlic sauce dripping down my chin, and warm cheesy deliciousness filling my mouth.

Mexicali Taco & Co

It was dark in that alley, but alas, the perfect way to enjoy my secret little rendezvous with a vampiro. I’ll keep the naughty details to myself. I attempted to cover up my wanton delight with a mere paper napkin. It was much like trying to hide nudity with a hand towel. Why bother? The boys at Mexicali are just lovely and I finally had the pleasure of meeting Esdras, the owner and chef that orchestrates the delicacies of Mexicali’s renegade grill like a seasoned cowboy that knows his lasso. You have roped me in, Esdras, and I’m just melting for your vampiro quesadilla like queso in your hands.

 

After the Mexicali moment, we went to another DTLA treasure— KTCHN 105.

This open and airy urban loft space is quite romantic. We enjoyed the leisurely ease of dining at KTCHN 105, and each dish was a pleasure. The casual ambiance complimented the sublime culinary expertise of Chef Felix Barron. My favorite dish was the Shirred Egg.

Shirred Egg ~ Baked egg with creamy grits, chorizo, roasted pepper and baguette.

Chef Felix’s menu that night was elegant. We started with the Leek and Watercress “Dual Soups” combined in one big bowl. The Ravioli filled with sage, ricotta, soft egg with a rich pea puree, shaved radish and parmesan. The Shirred Egg. Then the entrees were: my Portabello Vegetarian Wellington, and Darling had the Special of Pecan-Crusted Ahi on a bed of baby bok choy and rice (and I’m hoping I remembered all of that correctly).

A Romantic drink before dinner at The Perch, overlooking the downtown skyline. The view, the glass of wine, and Darling. What more could a girl ask for? My cup runneth over. For after a romantic drink, we had a reservation for two at Starry Kitchen. And that is something starry and magical indeed.

So if I save my last foodie mention, it is leaving the best for last. Starry Kitchen. Darling and I went to experience Chef Laurent Quenioux’s marvelous and magical culinary talents, and to indulge in his orgiastic cheese cart. Fooding around in Los Angeles has been a beautiful experience.

The Oxtail Grilled Cheese. Horseradish bechamel. Superb. Decadent. Heavenly. Marvelous. Exquisite. Gastronomically Gorgeous. Sensually Luscious.

We dined for several hours, enjoyed wine we brought along from DomaineLA, and lingered at Starry Kitchen like two foodies in love with the chef’s ambrosial culinary palate, intoxicated by the magical spell of Chef Laurent’s food.

Chef Laurent is charming, sparkling with warmth and a great talent. Here he is photographing his artistic creation in the Starry Kitchen. The menu began with an amuse bouche of a Carlsbad Oyster and Lemon Tapioca, then the Oxtail Grilled Cheese. Cod in Lobster Bouillon with Kumquat Fennel Jam, then Foie Gras, Smoked Eel and Green Apples. The Scottish Wood Pigeon in a Vin Chaud Varnish, Lentils, Parsnip, Chanterelles, “Poirvrade” and followed by…

…the splendid Persimmon Cake with Chai Tea Foam, Quince Gel, and Ginger Barley Ice Cream.

After the dinner and dessert, we enjoyed the cheese cart which finished our beautiful meal {Post to come}.

All of these delicious foodie adventures were special in their own way. Some were concerto meals, others were minuets. Music to the eyes, nose, and mouth.

Share

The Pleasures of French Cheese ~ Domaine’s Wine & Chef Laurent’s Cheese Cart

Posted on by

1

A cheese cart with 37 cheeses. This is sublime stuff, real French cheese. Chef Laurent Quenioux (of Bistro LQ and currently Starry Kitchen a.k.a. LQ@SK ) provided his decadent cheese cart to gourmand cheese and wine lovers last Sunday here in Los Angeles, and I am pleased to tell you, I was there. Not only was I there, I indulged in cheese.

We waited in a short line to marvel at the selection of cheeses that Chef Laurent himself supervised, a grand spread of nearly 40 cheeses. I emulated the excited waving hand gestures of Wallace and Gromit in the exclamation of “cheeeese” and the pleasures of it.

Che-e-e-e-se!

Ah, the pleasures of stinky French cheese. I am no wine snob but I love it like a good lush should, and I’m definitely a cheese eater. Put the two together, of course. I’m in heaven. Once I overheard a comment when I lived in New Orleans: “I’m not a bum, darlin’, I’m a wino.” That comment said it all. Define yourself as a wino or a lush, but make sure you include cheese. Then you can say you’re not a wino, you’re a gourmand. My darling and I joked about us being like Mr. and Mrs. Thurston Howell (Gilligan’s Island reference given as any child of the 70′s should refer to when in line at a wine and cheese tasting. And yes, I’m ‘Lovey’). Gourmand, foodie, lush, Lovey. That’s me. Well, Domaine isn’t that kind of a fancy pants place. And I’m not really very much like Lovey anyway. I’m very earthy and so the casual atmosphere of Domaine was welcoming.

Domaine is a lovely little wine store on Melrose Avenue, unpretentious, as their slogan “more wine, less attitude” explains. And there was Chef Laurent smiling away with all of his charm, overseeing the cheese cart. We made our way to the cart, with the blue cheeses on the left, the creamier types in the center, and the funky aged cheese on the right to select from. I selected six types of cheese, from left to right, and have no idea what names to give you, but I can say they were all profoundly delicious. The jams and spreads to compliment, the slices of baguette, all meant for the full experience of cheese.

The first wine we enjoyed with our cheese was Bottex Bugey de Cerdon, a sparkling wine from the Bugey region in eastern France. A rose with a lovely taste of strawberries, and not too sweet. It complimented the mild and creamy cheeses, along with the spreads, jams and baguette. I took my time to enjoy this combination mingling its magic in my mouth. Yes, the sparkling rose was delightful with the buttery cheeses that I spread on baguette with dollops of a strawberry jam to enhance its flavor.

Next we tried the 2010 Clos Roche Blanche Sauvignon, and I ventured into the blue cheese portions on our shared plate. I love a good pungent bleu. Pair that with a white like this, and a little baguette, some more cheese…

Me: ”Darling? Could I have another glass of wine?”

Darling: ”Yes, Lovey.” (goes to fetch the next selection of wine with our empty glasses)

Me: (eating more cheese)

The third glass of wine was 2009 Terres Dorees “l’Ancien” Beaujolais which I enjoyed even more than the other two, just because I like beaujolais and prefer reds in general. The funkier, more pungent cheesy-cheeses were delicious with more baguette, less jam, and beaujolais.

And realizing the subtle aphrodisiac qualities of good cheese, I began to feel each mouthful with voluptuous pleasure. The wine also had something to do with it.

I do recall one of the names of the many cheeses I enjoyed— a slice of Brillat-Savarin cheese— because I associate the name of the cheese with the famed epicure and gastronome Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, a man fond of wine and cheese.

A cheese lover, Brillat-Savarin stated: “A dessert without cheese is like a beautiful woman with only one eye.” 

And like Brillat-Savarin, Chef Laurent believes like a true sensualist in using all the senses to experience food—

Vision, Smell, Taste, Texture.

Brillat-Savarin compared after-taste, the perfume or fragrance of food: “but for the odor which is felt in the back of the mouth, the sensation of taste would be but obtuse and imperfect.”

I had the pleasure of meeting Chef Laurent and so here is a photo taken with the celebrated ‘Chef LQ’ (a giddy-on-cheese and tipsy-on-wine me):

Here is Chef Laurent Quenioux’s cheese cart list in all its glory:

Valencay
Tomme de Savoie
Couronne Lochies
Selles sur Cher
Crotin
Cabecou
Bouygette
Epie du Poitou
Chabicou
Rocamadour
Buchette
Puligny St. Pierre
Lorenthyme
Fumaison
Gaperon
Perail de Brebis
Abbaye de Tamie
Beaufort
Bleu d’Auvergne
Bleu de Laqueille
Boulette d’Avesne
Brillat Savarin
Camembert
Cantal
Banon
Clacbitou
Morbier
Montbriac
Maroilles
Livarot
Pont l’Eveque
Langres
Fourme d’Ambers
Fileta Corsica
Epoisses
Comte 24 months
Mothais sur Feuille
Munster
Ossau-Iraty
Reblochon
Roves des Garrigue
Saint Felicien
Saint Nectaire
Saint Maure
Tomme de Belloc

 

Share

Orris ~ dîner pour les sensualistes

Posted on by

3

Orris is the root of the iris plant, which in ancient times, when mixed with cinnamon and other spices, was believed to be a love potion. 

We arrived at Orris around the time they open for dinner. The sun was fairly strong out on the patio facing Sawtelle Boulevard, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I delighted in the golden gleam of the sunlight as we sat at our table, gazing at each other, holding hands. It gave me a pleasant feeling of leisurely calm. As my darling sat across from me looking ever so handsome wearing his straw fedora hat, studying the menu, I glanced through the glass of the window from my patio view, peeking inside the restaurant’s interior. The fading light of the day and the colors evoked the imagery of Renoir’s painting “Luncheon of the Boating Party” with that same ambiance of slow dining, leisurely, just savoring the moment.

I did not look at the menu because I was in his hands. It pleased me to allow him order our dinner. The theme of the menu was Chef Shiro’s Autumn Specials. My darling had fondly remembered the grilled romaine lettuce from his dining experiences years before. Taking time to choose the little dishes to share, he ordered a bottle of wine, the arugula salad, the squash blossom tempura stuffed with seafood mousse, the Beets and Basque cheese with balsamic, and of course, the grilled romaine lettuce with parmesan dressing to begin. The wild mushroom saute and potato Dauphinois, the shrimp mousse ravioli with shiitake mushroom sauce, and the basil marinated black cod with mashed potatoes. The cheese plate to finish our meal.

As we have found dining so pleasurable during the early evening, early and without hurry, the decadence of slowness inspires passionate later evenings. Perhaps we should take notes from older people and dine during early evening so that we aren’t too full and in too much of a rush to make love.

And Orris is a quaint bistro, relaxed in a romantic sense that allows lovers to linger. A moment together to sip our wine, talk, flirt and make eyes at each other. I can understand now why the name of the restaurant is called ‘orris’— the root of the iris plant is considered to be an aphrodisiac.

The waitress, Bobbi, so charming and gracious, orchestrated the timing of our dishes, inquiring about the kinds of dishes we ordered, thinking about how to balance the flavors, and so deciding on how they would be served in sequence— all to enhance our dining experience. Dinner began as a gentle pianissimo with the cool bottle of Frog’s Leap Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc nestled into a bucket, along with the arrival of the beautiful arugula salad.

Golden sunlight filtered through our glimmering glasses full with wine. I had never known Sawtelle Boulevard hid such a treasure as this. There had been many a dinner with my three children at my safe ‘family approved’ dining spots nearby, such as Hurry Curry of Tokyo and Chabuya, the ramen place next door. My later obsession with Beard Papa’s cream puffs just a jaunt down the street while pregnant with my third child was also a Sawtelle Boulevard frequent stop. But never had I discovered the serene patio of Orris.

The arugula salad arrived in its feathery-leafed beauty— the shaved parmesan mingling with the peppery arugula was delightful in my mouth. The dressing was the perfect amount, neither overly done nor under dressed, pure with a flavorful and light olive oil. I marveled at the way the salad was dressed because it is a rarity that each leaf is well coated with just the right amount of dressing. It did not overpower the arugula, but enhanced its essence. Such simplicity.

The Beet and Basque cheese drizzled with a balsamic dressing— so delicate on the tongue. The Basque cheese was creamy which allowed the musty tang of balsamic to layer and deepen all the textures and flavors so well. We looked at each other knowingly with the pleasure of beets melting their deep garnet stain into our teeth and tongues, the softness of the cheese upon the tongue, barely a sliver, so it yields like a flower petal to the heat of our mouths. My mind was where it needed to be; only with the texture and subtle wonder of the beets and cheese, the hint of balsamic making its suggestion to savor the moment entirely.

The squash blossom tempura was exquisite, stuffed with a seafood mousse and topped with a kalamata olive tapenade. I have had squash blossom tempura done like this before, however, not in this exact way. The flavor combinations of the olives and delicacy of the tempura made this particular version quite exceptional. The seafood mousse inside the pocket of the flower was so light, the crisp tempura ever so faintly there. What flavor, I thought, as I gleaned through my memory of the many times and many ways I had squash blossoms. And fingering through the bulk of such sweet things as squash blossoms at the farmers markets, when I thought I might consider sauteing squash blossoms myself. But how would I make them? Surely this was the way, stuffed with seafood mousse pillowed inside and tempura battered with the thinnest amount, kalamata olive tapenade created with a tomatoey salsa to enhance the fresh taste of the squash. My two front teeth bit into the green of the squash itself and nothing could have made it more delicious than the way it was prepared.

The grilled romaine lettuce. Sigh. The grilled romaine lettuce. What more can I say? This dish was memorable for a reason. It is difficult to imagine how lettuce can be sensual. Before I had tasted this sublime dish I would never have considered romaine lettuce as an aphrodisiac, nor would I have claimed its sensuous qualities as one of the most orgasmic dishes I’ve ever had. I might usually reserve such commentary for say, crème brûlée. The first bite of the grilled romaine lettuce was subtle with the smokiness of the grill. It wasn’t until the third and fourth mouthful that the flavors built upon themselves, and soon the sensual quality of this dish overwhelmed me, a crescendo of ecstasy was undulating through my body. The parmesan cheese added to the punch of the grilled romaine. I was tingling with pleasure. Little sips of my sauvignon blanc here and there, another bite of the grilled romaine.

He observed my response from across the table, wry smile and pleasure in my revelation over the romaine lettuce. Sensual, this lettuce. What a surprise, this lettuce. Heavenly heavenly lettuce of smoky char and wide green-yellow leaf, its magic working through me with each taste. Each mouthful was like tasting my lover’s mouth until the swell of desire rivets and soon, the body lets go under its spell. He had told me about his first time trying the grilled romaine and how it had left an indelible imprint on his memory. With my eyes lustrous and full of delight I met his smiling face. We were sharing a sensory discovery, and we stayed silent that way, just eating the grilled romaine with such pleasure that only can be realized through experience. He told me about this, I thought. He explained the lettuce would do this to me.

After the grilled romaine lettuce experience settled into my body, more of our dishes arrived. The wild mushroom saute and potato Dauphinois, the shrimp mousse ravioli with shiitake mushroom sauce, and the basil marinated black cod with mashed potatoes.

The earthy tenderness of the sauteed mushrooms were a perfect pairing with the creamy potatoes Dauphinois. The potatoes were buttery and creamy without being a bit heavy. I couldn’t help but combine them in each mouthful.

The black cod. Succulent and bursting with juicy magnificence. Suddenly, dinner was reaching a symphonic level of harmony. Even the skin melted in my mouth. Voluptuous fish that tastes just as it should, like a fish— freshly caught and moist from the sea. At this point, I was just simmering into every bite with the willingness of a child. Dinner became a tango between my lover and I, the music of dishes, each one a movement, a rhythm, a feeling that words cannot express.

It was dark, the sun had set, and the candlelight was all we needed at our table. The shrimp mousse ravioli with shiitake mushroom sauce arrived in a bowl with a side of bread. “A good hand at making a sauce is like a good hand for giving a massage; a valuable and rare attribute.” ~ Isabel Allende, Aphrodite: A Memoir of the Senses

The shrimp raviolis were bountiful in their ability to please. The pasta tasted fresh and handmade. What made them more luxurious was the shiitake mushroom sauce. The sauce was velvety and asked for sopping up with bread. My darling soaked a slice of the crusty demi baguette into the center of the bowl with leftover sauce once we had eaten all of the raviolis. Forgive me for the blurry photograph of the ravioli but at that point I was in bliss—the eroticism of the mushroom sauce caused waves of delight to course through me, and I could not focus the camera well enough in the dim candlelit glow.

To call the shiitake mushroom sauce a sensual sauce is an understatement. We soaked all of our bread into this bowl and nearly licked it clean. Smooth and sultry with the luxurious flavor of shiitake, the sauce was seductive to the palate. The afterglow of our dinner, like cuddling up in a soft blanket together, was eating the bread with the sauce.

“A dinner which ends without cheese is like a beautiful woman with only one eye.”~Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

To end our beautiful meal we had the cheese plate. A selection of several types of cheese and bread, savored while we finished our bottle of wine.

About Orris and the Chef from the Orris Restaurant:

Chef Hideo Yamashiro (“Shiro”) was born in Okinawa, Japan where he learned the pleasures of a real tomato. His passion for such subtleties brought him to Los Angeles. Shiro eventually worked in such famous French kitchens as Ma Maison (under Wolfgang Puck) and Les Anges (he was sous-chef to Patrick Jamon). Shiro then became the head chef at one of the jewels of Southern California, Cafe Jacoulet in Pasadena.

Orris Restaurant
2006 Sawtelle Boulevard
Los Angeles
California 90025
Phone: (310) 268-2212

Share

Baja Night ~ Corazón de Comida Los Angeles

Posted on by

4

It was Baja Night in Los Angeles and I overdressed for the occasion. I was wearing a simple black dress that has been my evening staple. I downsized its glamour with a wide leather belt and a pair of favorite sandals. By the time my date had parked in the crumbling asphalt lot next to the taco stands, I was excruciatingly aware that I should have worn jeans instead. Ah well, c’est la vie. The lot at 1st and Beaudry in Downtown Los Angeles was next to the roaring arterial freeway that I’ve known for many years of my life, from childhood until this moment. As a Los Angelenos, I have had many a shuttling up and down that freeway intersecting the 110 with the 101 and the exits into downtown streets, 6th, 4th, and 3rd. The charm of this Baja Night came over me.

But did I ever imagine eating outside next to the freeway? Baja Night in Downtown Los Angeles was a true El Lay experience featuring two supreme taco vendors: Ricky’s Fish Tacos and Mexicali Taco & Company. Enjoying street tacos by the freeway gave a whole new perspective and meaning to me as a native Angeleno. As I was there because a certain delicious man invited me, surprising me yet again with another one of his food adventures. I was waxing into a newfound appreciation for my city of birth. I have bashed around Los Angeles for a good many years— disdaining it, agonizing over its faults like an old relationship gone sour, and leaving it a few times for another city. But now, this feeling of affection for Los Angeles and its ethnic technicolor channels of flavor and culture was ignited by the fish taco. Ricky’s Fish Tacos were my initiation into the sensual abandon of street seafood pleasures.

While standing in line, I met Starry Kitchen‘s Nguyen Tran decked out in a large sombrero, wearing it with all his unassuming charm. But I was struck with my social awkwardness that had so plagued me as a young girl. Then and there I felt like a silly teenager attempting to socialize, limiting myself with one-liner comments and barely audible replies. My eyes google around and look away. So Nguyen introduced himself and I mumbled something about him looking very dashing in his sombrero.

I clung to my date’s arm like a little girl. The churros were beckoning, sugary in their splendor nearby, curled into cinnamon roll-like shapes, consoling me with their decadent spirals. I longed for their hot whorls of wonder, dazzling my eyes within the chafing bins full of cinnamon sugar. Cinnamon. Canela. My mind whirring into childhood reverie of hot-to-fingertips-in-waxed-paper churros.

The churros were made by Churro Borough of Los Angeles. I couldn’t wait to try them— both the churro ice cream sandwiches and the churro ice cream nuggets. Among the selection of ice cream flavors were horchata, vanilla custard, blueberry-port-creme fraiche, mexican hot chocolate, to name a few.

I had three plates overflowing with lobster, fish, and shrimp tacos. The lines weren’t very long and the sense of community with other foodies was a pleasure, all of us sitting around on folding chairs and picnic tables. The wonderful smells rising from the grills, the table full of churros tempting the eye as I stood in line, the hungry flutter in my belly, excited to be experiencing fish tacos done by Ricky’s. I am new to the world of other things to eat besides vegetarian options. When it came my turn, I heaped on the pico de gallo salsa and shredded lettuce a little too eagerly, squirting the sauces in squiggly drizzles, overwhelming my tacos with condiments.

Ricky and company were frying up their marvelously golden batches of fish, shrimp and lobster, while Mexicali Taco & Company‘s stand was blossoming with a line of hungry foodies.

As I sat alone for awhile at the table, taking in the moment, I was in urban bliss. I was very hungry and could not wait to dive into my plate, but I did so slowly, savoring the fish and shrimp tacos, observing the skyline. Crunch of shrimp and the melting flesh of the fish bitten into, from the tongs of my plastic fork, the tang of salsa and hot sauce, all singing in my mouth. Each bite was filled with a warm richness, voluptuous upon my tongue with freshly fried batter, pops of chile and tomato. My date was in line at the Mexicali stand for the Vampiro quesadilla that oozed with an unctuous sexiness of garlic sauce and queso, sans the carne asada for me. He also lovingly removed (and ate) the bacon that wrapped itself around the sooty little chile relleno, which I bit into, the lingering greasy smoke mingling with the flavors in my mouth. The garlicky quesadilla. Orgasmic. My senses were swooning with the pleasure. He watched my face and took delight in my reaction. The evening skyline was now glowing over the bank of concrete and blur of freeway. That was when I was offered a refreshing glass of iced pandan green tea made by a friend of my darling, and we reveled in the tastes of both types he brought along in a large cooler. Our Snapple drinks pushed aside, the cool refreshment of iced pandan green tea reminded me of something I could not name, but a certain familiar taste nonetheless. Certain taste memories can remind and yet elude you.

I ate just enough of the tacos and quesadilla to feel sated, but the churros called out, for I love churros— hot churros. Can you imagine then, churros as ice cream sandwiches? The delicate warm churros and melting ice cream, tasting freshly made and not store bought. Churros— sugary with cinnamon spice, sparking my memories of street food fairs and summertime. The cinnamon sugar was burning on my lips a little; fresh and magnificently good. Ice cream cold and bursts of sweet creamy heaven.

After enjoying the iced pandan green tea, I decided it was a recipe worth trying. As I compose this posting, I am brewing up some in a big stainless steel pot, cooling it down, and preparing it for a pitcher full of sweet iced deliciousness. It’s really so simple. The only challenge is finding the pandan leaves, which can be found in Asian markets. I found mine at Simpang Asia, a charming Indonesian grocery store in the Palms neighborhood of West LA.

Share