Ritz Bites

What's for lunch? Nae Go Hyang

My feelings towards whatever historic preservation fieldwork I'm doing are largely dictated by the available eats in the area. Long days in Pico Union were good. Days in West Adams, not so much.

I agreed to a project in K-Town largely because of lunch options. Sadly I'm not organized enough to compile a list of restaurants, but at least my first random choice worked out well.

Nae Go Hyang is in the block-long Oxford Square strip mall on the south side of 8th between Oxford and Serrano. It's a crowded jumble of signs, most of which I can't read for obvious reasons. Some Peeping Tom action had to suffice when picking a lunch spot.

Most people were eating big stainless steel and ceramic bowls full of noodles and soup in different colors and textures. Turns out Nae Go Hyang essentially specializes in buckwheat and whole wheat-based goods. They mixed chewy buckwheat noodles with julienned veggies and a pickly sweetish red sauce at a good tolerance level for me. The leek and veggie pancake was super tasty too, especially for all of $5.54. Big shared buckets of kimchee and tongs are part of the deal.

So far, so good on this work project. At least the eating part.

Nae Go Hyang
3516 W. 8th Street
Koreatown
213.381.0022

She's gotta have it: Viet Noodle Bar

My mind is usually scattered among too many things to let food cravings inch their way in like they used to.

But for a few months there's been one major exception. On some afternoons I start thinking about the petite spring rolls and mildly warm noodles with soy skin rolls and shitake mushrooms at Viet Noodle Bar in Atwater, and I CANNOT STOP.

I find ways to acquiesce. Some days I'm alone and able to eat, read and think. Other times I call ahead, grab my food to go, and balance take-out containers with wiggly James in my arms. On such days, often the sublime spring rolls with tofu, fried shallots, basil, carrots and jicama are gone by the time I'm home. Their chewy and crunchy textures psyche me up for the sweet tang of the noodles and delicate tofu to come. Not the most flavorful dish in the world, but a few dashes of siracha push it along.

Though the original Soy Cafe's minuscule location on Hyperion had its charms (and its challenges; try balancing an infant and your own tush on what felt like 8" diameter stools), the second expanded location breathes easy. I usually sit at the communal table best set up for single diners, which is narrower than the more social table that lines the other side of the restaurant. Plus they try to like, feed your mind, man. Alas, the selection of smarty pants and culturally with-it books that filled the continuous rectangular niche in the north wall have been taken back by their owner. 

Best of all, the room's white-on-brown serenity and the meal serve to quell the intensity of my jones. Equilibrium and focus are then restored.

Viet Noodle Bar
3133 ½ Glendale Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90039
323.906.1575

Quick Bites: Comme Ça, Oinkster and Seven Grand

For afternoons when it takes me forever to get out of the house and we miss lunch at most restaurants, Comme Ça comes in handy. Daylight is kind to the space. White vinyl tufted booths and high contrast decor elements demonstrate the waning yet persistent influences of the Hollywood Regency revival trend. There is not a single remaining trace of Noura, the Middle Eastern place we'd go for yogurt Push-Up pops almost every day after elementary school.

Very limited offerings at 3:30 meant just sandwiches and salads were available, plus amazingly smooth Malpeque oysters served with a perfect tangy mignonette sauce. I would've liked the $12 frisée aux lardons much, much more if all the bacon pieces were crispy. Instead I wound up with a pile of mushy pig fat. Who wants to eat that? But like everyone says, this is a restaurant L.A. has needed for a LONG time, so I'll inevitably give it another shot.

For less than half of what we spent on a modest lunch/snack at Comme Ça, we stuffed ourselves with meat sandwiches, salads, and fries at Oinkster in Eagle Rock. An apples and oranges comparison, but let's say Oinkster is far better suited to an early Sunday dinner for two families with young kids. James kept screaming for more aioli -- so much so that the other patrons were glad when we left. I didn't know that would be so popular with the tot set.

And last but not least: After the research I did about the history and previous tenants of 515 West 7th Street,  it was exciting to finally see the quirky new inhabit the old at the Seven Grand Bar.

5,000 calories on a plate

Spending a weekend in Nashville is the perfect way to get reacquainted with the pleasures of intra-American tourism. 

Big doses of music and culture at the astoundingly fascinating Country Music Hall of Fame, and then consuming INSANE amounts of calories per sitting got us in the right state of mind. The posh and not at all creepy historic Hotel Hermitage was the best staging ground for a busy few days, too. PLUS all you can eat Christmas cookies and mulled cider in the lobby.

Encroaching suburban sprawl and new ownership have changed the character of the Loveless Cafe. No longer a rural outpost with a filthy filthy kitchen and modest accommodations at the edge of the Natchez Trace Parkway, crowds still gather for the famous biscuits, jams, country ham, and fried chicken.  Some Chowhounders on the Southern board fear the theme parkish direction of the Loveless complex, which would be a pity.  We still bought our share of aprons and magnets.  (My sister had brought me a shirt from her visit a couple years ago.) 

Maybe it's not the best Nashville has to offer, but the fried chicken was crispy, the pulled pork succulent, and the biscuits plenty fluffy. I cannot imagine a single plate of food I've ever seen with more transfats and calories than the Loveless Sampler. They should give out Lipitor next to the toothpicks and business cards.

Unfortunately for me, black pepper seemed to be a dominant flavoring agent in all the traditional food we ate in Nashville. It's something I use lightly and don't have much tolerance for.

Regardless of seasoning or technique, atmosphere and setting triumph above all. It takes a cold, hard heart not to enjoy boiled turnip greens and unremarkable mashed potatoes eaten outdoors under florescent lights in a chicken wire and wood shed. That's what you do at Hog Heaven, where four people eat for 20 bucks.

Best of all, the BBQ joint is sandwiched between a honky tonk joint and McDonald's, all along side Centennial Park, home of Nashville's very own Parthenon replica.  Again, too much pepper in the veggies; the pulled pork sandwich was the way to go.  But when a kindly drunk woman stumbled out of the bar next door to gush about our son's cuteness and bestow blessings, leaving a sonic trail of country twang in her wake, I was fully won over.

What's Wako?

Wako Donkasu serves as a good reminder that looks can be deceiving.  I expected some sort of delicate food served in the gorgeous looking dining room I've noticed on the south side of Olympic a couple blocks east of Vermont.  We easily convinced Peter and Michelle to join us in the unknown, which turned out to be a ... cutlet place.  My husband got the last laugh, since I was in it for the decor and don't care for cutlets, and he LOVES them.  So the arrangement worked out quite nicely, actually.

The interior is full of Dwell meets the Martha Stewart set in K-Town.  Try-this-at-home elements abound.  Rectangular light fixtures have delicate paper loosely attached, which are a clever DIY touch.  The other side of the restaurant is lit with round pendants (pictured), and the large centerpiece placed in the middle of a communal table is the best use of fake flowers I've ever seen.  The west wall with dark and light wood horizontal panels placed at random intervals is brilliant.  Few places in this town peddling huge meals for around the ten dollar price point offer such a sophisticated interplay of texture and overall design sense.  It's accessible Asian contemporary modernism put into action.

And what a menu!  The wham bam forwardness of the graphic design lays it out clear and simple.  Wako serves just about everything fried.  Hamburger croquette?  Check.  Pork katsu served between slices of soft fluffy white bread?  Wako does it.  The sesame seeds given to us with a mortar and pestle keeps the fun coming; the waiter then pours the tangy sweet katsu sauce on top of the ground sesame mixture for dipping fried strips of protein.

I get the fish combo, which for $12 is an insane amount of food.  In addition to the battered white fish with tartar sauce, it also had a big shrimp, a fat ball of mashed potato croquette (with peas and corn bits inside), and sides including a lovely shredded cabbage salad with miso dressing, and bummer, bad miso soup.  It's hard to mess up miso soup, but Wako manages to make a gross, sweet one.  The soba noodles won't be winning any awards either.  Anyway, these are minor strikes.  The fried specialties are light enough so that we don't feel completely ill when dinner is over.

Dinner for four comes to $50, including tip.  For dessert and a nightcap we head to Campanile, since it's a quiet week there and the bar is empty.  The tab for three glasses of dessert wine and two desserts is nearly double that of dinner.   The evening held some nice surprises for us, but sadly, this last one is more amusing than shocking.

Wako Donkasu
exact address unknown; Olympic Blvd. between Normandie and Vermont Avenues

Come a little closer: Din Tai Fung Dumpling House

Distance can add to the fun of some restaurant destinations.  The drive makes the reward all the better, and good or even great doesn't necessarily require frequency.  It's fine with me, for example, that Bahooka tiki bar is in Rosemead.

And then there are places that the instant after I walk out the door, I wish I could pick up and move them to my corner.  Din Tai Fung Dumpling House is one of those.

As our spouses were busy at work or doing other activities to edify themselves, my friend Andy and I made the drive to Arcadia, home of Santa Anita, the Arboretum among other attractions, for dumplings.  Not just any dumplings, but soup dumplings, which contain a bubble of hot broth nestled in the interior.  (Apparently the trick is adding a cube of frozen broth before the goods are sealed and steamed.)

Din Tai Fung, with its orderly rows of tables, spotless surfaces, and Le Klint and other stylish (yet really damn bright) lights, is a model of clean, contemporary efficiency.  They don't want you to waste their time, nor do they care to fritter yours away. 

So despite inevitable waits (about 20 minutes for two on a weeknight), you make good use of these lulls by checking off your order on the list that's handed to you when you're given your number.  When seated, they go over what you want, take the top copy, leave you the carbon copy, and then cross off each item as it's delivered to the table. 

They know people want their dumplings ASAP.  Not only were we glad to be served the pork and less interesting vegetable dumplings quickly, but we also shoveled in the sesame noodles that come beautifully folded like a delicate garment, American broccoli with garlic, and dried string beans as soon as the plates hit the table.  The only thing that slowed us down was having to delicately suck out the broth from the dumplings and follow the instructions about how best to eat dumplings with sliced ginger and vinegar; these directions are conveniently illustrated on the back of the chopsticks package.

A stop at Fosselman's in Alhambra topped of the evening.  The smoothness of the marshmallows in the Rocky Road ice cream reminded me of the delicate silken texture of the dumpling dough.  OK, totally joking here.  Din Tai Fung and Fosselman's don't really have much in common.

Since I can't have Din Tai Fung near me, I brought a little souvenir home.  Steamed fluffy buns stuffed with packed bundles of pork � the contents of which were clarified by the little piggy sticker on the box � recalled the previous night's joys.  If only I could have such a fresh reminder every time I get the Din Tai Fung urge.

Din Tai Fung
1108 S. Baldwin Avenue
Arcadia, CA 91007
626.574.7068

Pho-gettaboudit

My only associations with deep Reseda are Boogie Nights and The Karate Kid.  But I've been kind of intrigued by the array of restaurants I've noticed along Reseda Boulevard en route to our doula's house.  Based on a quick scanning of business signs, there doesn't appear to be any one predominant ethnic group out there.  And some signs make for fun roadside reading; It's All Good Kabob House definitely wins the prize for best restaurant name.

It's All Good appeared to be closed last night so instead I had a late dinner at Pho 999.  I then remembered that I've been to the Van Nuys location eons ago, and haven't been back. 

I can't say the bun with cha gio merits a special return trip to the Reseda outpost either.  The texture of beef was nearing jerky-like toughness, and the fried cha gio are closer to average dull spring rolls than funky, thick blistering ones.  But I like the scallions, sweet pickled carrots and radish, and the generous amount of noodles and lettuce.  The room's spaciousness and heavy-on-the-redness pleases, even if I could've done without the Larry King blaring on the TV sets.

To be fair, I also might have ordered badly; pho's usually a better litmus test anyway.    But for this level of Vietnamese food I'll save the gas and, alas, just resign myself to the local Silver Lake Vietnamese hipster spots. 

Pho 999
7255 Reseda Blvd.
Reseda, CA 91335
818.705.1899

Broth v. Tofu: Beverly Tofu

Tofu or broth?  That is the question.

As was recently explained to me, apparently these two things are the deciding factors between Beverly Soon Tofu and its neighbor across the street, Sokongdong.  Sokongdong was the first soon tofu house I ever went to and I remember those enoki mushrooms and fully rounded broth so fondly.  It's been so long since I've been there that I don't clearly recall the softer, more curdled texture of the tofu.  But I do remember the broth being better than Beverly, where it's sharper and tastes more acidic.

But Beverly's got great panchan that include silky marinated tofu discs, sweet pickled cucumbers and sesame bean sprouts, plus atmosphere to spare.  Though I'm not sure for how much longer I'll be able to sit on those backless natural wood benches.

Beverly Soon Tofu
2717 West Olympic Blvd. #108 (at New Hampshire)
Los Angeles 90006
213.380.1113

Quick Tapas Tour

The meals shown below weren't eaten in the context of tapas bar hopping in the traditional sense.  These dishes were eaten at a vacation-appropriate leisurely pace, some more quickly than others, but all were special for their straightforwardness and quality.  The small plates trend followers in the U.S. still have a lot to learn from their muses and counterparts in Spain.

Ah, the classic tortilla espanola served for breakfast with the tomato-rubbed bread found around Barcelona.  This one at the Bar Central in la Boqueria was among the better of the bunch we tasted.

Taller de Tapas is a popular spot with a couple locations.  The El Born Taller is fairly slick and pretty good.  Croquetas were dense but not too much of a gut-bomb, and any fried artichoke is always an exciting thing.  These were thin, wispy and not entirely edible.

Though it looks pretty, I found the layered roasted red pepper, roasted eggplant and anchovy dish dull.

Cal Pep is super popular among the food-savvy tourist set.  Some think it's overhyped.  Fortunately it's a favorite of our friends who we visited and not far from where they live, so I was happy it gets at least one local stamp of approval.

We started off with a plate of fried sardines, which are amazing to watch the cooks dust in flour and deep fry.  Other goodies followed, yet I'm still kicking myself for not treating myself to their version of fried baby artichokes.