Food in New York. I used to know it so well. When I lived there
during the ’80s and ’90s, and worked in the food business I knew every
place there was to know, and I went to most all of them. It’s been a
very long spell since I lived there, and too long since I’ve been able
to really visit. A big void has been left in my New York
City food knowledge. So when I first heard about Magnolia Bakery and
how everyone was raving about it, I had no frame of reference. It was
just food-iverse white noise. (I apparently missed its appearance in
both ‘Sex and the City’ and in an SNL sketch.) I quickly got up to
speed when they announced they were opening a shop in Los Angeles on
one of the busiest streets in L.A.: West 3rd Street. With everything
that had been written I understood that this was a very popular place.
I wanted to go check it out. Some of the stories (in the L.A. Times
and on the Internet) were about how owner, Steve Abrams, was met with
complaints from the neighborhood and other businesses about how his
business would impact parking. The area was already saturated.
Parking places were impossible to find. I knew this to be very true.
So instead of driving, and battling parking: let’s take the bus!
I’ve always loved a good field trip. Like most Angelenos I live in my car. This is not a good thing. Planning and taking the bus was fun, educational and in a small way helped the environment. We jumped onto the #201 at Brunswick and Los Feliz Blvd., changed to the #316 at 3rd St. and Vermont, and arrived at Magnolia a little over an hour later.
My idea of a good time is dragging my sorry ass up the stairs after a long day, plopping down on the bed, snuggling with my husband and watching re-runs of Law and Order or, if God REALLY loves me, a NEW episode of Real Time With Bill Maher. This 4 star vacation is earned after a day of schlepping kids, policing homework and of course the dance of death known as feeding everyone.
My mom makes the greatest hamburger in the world. I don’t know how she does it — it’s not the cut of the meat or the way she marinades it (she doesn’t) or the fact that it’s organic (which it is) or that it has some fancy cheese on it (though it usually does). It’s just the greatest hamburger you’ve ever had. Which is why I’m always hesitant to try the great, new burger stand around the corner — especially, when it’s a gourmet burger stand. Don’t get me wrong. The idea of maple grilled onions and blue cheese and truffle oil on a hamburger is certainly appealing to me, but somehow those gourmet burgers — even the ones from Father’s Office — just never taste as good as my mom’s plain, old patty melts.
Living in LA is easy. Eating out here is hard. Sure you can wear whatever you want, and reservations for most places aren't necessary, but the high prices for ho-hum food and lackluster service by kids waiting on you while waiting for their big break (this is not a myth) mostly keeps us at home where the food is at least warm, the company enjoyable and (for us) the wine cellar filled with lovely selections. When we want a fix of beautiful, inventive food, we just turn on Top Chef and watch the pans fly. That's where we discovered Nyesha Arrington.
Clementine, the great west-side L.A. charcuterie has amazing candies, too...