Los Angeles

Last night One for the Table got a sneak peek into what promises to be Culver City’s newest hot spot—A-Frame—the brainchild of restaurateur David Reiss and rockstar chef Roy Choi of Kogi BBQ fame. Like most of Choi’s ventures, the menu reads like a sugar-crazed kid’s take on gourmet cuisine. Blazin’ Jay’s kettle corn, sprinkled with furikake and mixed with Corn Pops, is a total guilty pleasure. And don’t get me started on the milk chocolate dipped churros or the fried apple pie with cheddar ice cream.

My favorites, of course, veer on the lighter side. The crab cakes garnished with shiso leaves are plump and simple and the peel ‘n eat shrimp is fresh and juicy, with just the right amount of citrus and salt. And don’t neglect the Korean-style pickled side dishes, which, in true Choi fashion, veer from the traditional, featuring pears and endives alongside more expected vegetables, like radishes. And I have to admit the baby back ribs are worth getting your hands messy over and so is the totally indulgent carne asada torta (which should only be attempted if you have a serious appetite, and are maybe a little stoned).

Unless you've been living under a rock you've likely heard of Kogi BBQ, LA's twitterific Korean-Mexican fusion truck. If not, allow me to introduce you. The Kogi BBQ fleet, now three trucks strong, travels all over LA, from Torrance to Glendale, on a day-to-day basis, informing the public of their locales via everyone's new fave social network, Twitter (@kogibbq).

On weekends Kogi occupies the kitchen at Venice's Alibi Room. This is where I first enjoyed the delicious fare, but as my BFF Brendan was recently in town and we decided to hit up one of their trucks, the way it's meant to be. We accidentally arrived early , which was a blessing in disguise as it took no time for quite a line to grow behind us.

We kept it real by ordering two beef short rib tacos, two spicy pork tacos and their Kogi special, a spicy pork, Jack cheese quesadilla topped with Kogi's new salsa verde.

Everybody has them. Those neighborhood joints you walk/drive by a million times but never go into. For no good reason. The place looks nice enough and clearly has customers, but you always just pass it by. We've lived in the Valley for over a decade, within walking distance of the Great Greek and we never went until last month. Our friends, S and K (who used to live nearby) were horrified. Turns out the GG is one of their all time favorite places. Or so they claimed. You'd think if that were true they would have drug us there long before the night K was due to leave the country for an extended length of time. Of course, it was the one restaurant she just had to eat at one more time before she left, so that has to count for something. I guess there isn't a lot of Greek food where she's going.

As I have mentioned, I am a teacher in the LAUSD and this year the budget cuts cost me dearly. I lost the auxiliary class I have taught for the last nine years, and though this class added the stress of an extra preparation, it also padded my wallet, which made it a little easier for me to inure myself to teaching four one-and-a-half-hour classes each day with only two scheduled breaks, twenty and thirty minutes each. Gates and locks define the boundaries of the campus and these gates and locks are not to be opened until the school day ends, so this means that for the last nine years, I have been almost literally chained to my desk.

Not once in nine years have I ever “met a friend for lunch” or gone off campus to “grab a bite.” Since there is really no time to do anything but teach my classes, answer student questions, and make small talk in the bathroom line, I practically live in my little isolated realm. I have packed my little island with the essential modern conveniences like a fridge stocked with berries, Greek yogurt, organic peanut butter, whole grain bread, cheese, water, juice; a kettle to boil water for my coffee and oatmeal; and my iPhone so I can enjoy the promise of at least some contact with the outside world during those two luxurious breaks I get.  A colleague of mine once asked whether I was hiding a Murphy bed in my book closet.