My husband’s birthday was coming up. As it approached, I kept coming up with ideas. “Surf and Sand in Laguna?” I asked, as he passed me in the hall. Nothing. A few days later, “Malibu Beach Inn?” Nada. A week later, I added what I thought was a fresh idea, “Ojai Valley Inn?” Still, no response.
These are MY ideas of what to do on a birthday. We usually end up at a beach somewhere because, well, we should do something, right? Then, with less than a week until the actual date, he reminds me that it’s HIS birthday. What?!! Incredulous. And now he’s thought about it and really wants to go to Photo LA, the annual photo show, which is no longer held in Santa Monica, but at the LA Mart, downtown.
DOWNTOWN? But there’s no beach. I needed a few moments to come to terms with this. “Okay,” I peeped. He said let’s get a room for the night and check out all the hipness we keep hearing about downtown. He mentioned the Standard Hotel. But I remembered everyone, meaning my son, talking about the Ace Hotel. My husband took charge and booked it. I think he feared I would switch it behind his back to a beach hotel. He said restaurant reservations were up to me. He thinks of that as my territory. And, well, it usually is.
Two years ago, I made a decision that forever changed my
dining experience. I stopped being friends with anyone who doesn’t like
to
eat. Living in Los Angeles, the city of beautiful people, this wasn’t
an easy feat. But frankly, I was tired of sharing meals with the likes
of someone who either pushed their food around their plate as if eating
were a punishment, called themselves fat during the
entire meal in their size zero glory, or deliriously eyed my order
because the
last time they ordered anything that truly tasted good was a distant
memory. Turns out it was a damn great decision because without this new
rule in my life, I wouldn’t have my fellow foodie girlfriends Tannaz
and Rachel in my life which means I would have never been introduced to
my summer food crush and what I seriously consider the best new
addition to my Fairfax district neighborhood – The Golden State Café.
Except for a short stint on the Westside, I've spent over 20 years living in the Valley. And I love it. I really do. Yet, since I became more of a "foodie" a few years ago, I have been consistently disappointed with our lack of finer dining choices. We have excellent Mexican, burgers, pizza and sushi on every block of Ventura Blvd., but it's a wasteland when it comes to trying to find a place with a decent wine list, upscale decor and innovative food that doesn't cater to hipster millennials who are more concerned with being seen than with what's on the plate. Every time I read about a new place opening I held my breath in anticipation that my prayers would be answered…only to have them dashed by another gastro pub or taco joint (no offense).