Los Angeles

ImageHeadaches are the worst. And if you don't catch them right when they start, they're hard to cure. I've had one for four days. My mom told me to drink lemonade.

Lemonade?

I've taken naps, sat in dark rooms, taken Aleve, even taken Fiorinal. What the eff is lemonade gonna do?

But I was desperate, and unable to operate a motor vehicle, so I walked to Cabbage Patch.

I told them my mom sent me and was convinced they could cure my headache. As if that was a normal thing to say to a cafe owner.

He told me of course they could and prescribed French lentils (which were beautifully presented with avocado and drizzled oil and tasted like they could purify your soul) and told me the mint lemonade was on Dr. Cabbage Patch. 

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ImageFood 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.

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figreview.jpgAgainst all odds, not one, but two excellent hotel restaurants have opened in the last few months. First, we had the Bazaar by José Andrés, the dynamic tapas restaurant in the new SLS Hotel at Beverly Hills. And now we have Fig in the Fairmont Miramar in Santa Monica.

OK, there's no ocean view: all the better to focus on chef Ray Garcia's cooking. Never heard of him? You will, because this young chef is doing something very interesting at Fig, a restaurant that doesn't feel like a hotel restaurant. Fig is not only convincing guests to stay in: Garcia is also drawing a local crowd for his bright California cooking.

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It was the day after Christmas, we’d had too much sugar and a fair share of post-modern stress so, it was probably a bad idea to try to go “sale” shopping. 

petrossian1.jpgWe couldn’t even get into the parking lot at Saks, it was 5 of 11 and the 70% discount ended at noon and neither of us had even had a cup of coffee.... (I sometimes think my daughters and I should wear signs around our necks that say “Please feed before attempting to interact with us.”) 

And then sort of Saks was off the table but we were already out and we poked our heads into a shop on Melrose Place which was too expensive and besides the point and Anna said she just wanted to go home.  Neither one of us had really had coffee.

“No, let’s take a walk,” I insisted.  “We’ll find someplace to eat.”

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jothai.jpgTwenty years ago when I lived in San Diego, my ex-husband and I loved eating at Karinya Thai Cuisine. The restaurant was up the street from our home in Pacific Beach, and it was our “go to” dinner place when we entertained visiting family and friends. We usually requested to eat in the “traditional” dining room. This meant we’d have to remove our shoes before going in, and sit on the floor atop beautiful Thai triangle pillows.

The head chef (an American) had married into the Karinya Thai family. Since we were regulars, the chef always took a few moments to tell us wonderful tales of his trips to the Far East. One of the best was about the first time he visited his wife’s family in a remote village in Thailand. He was shocked at the amount of time it took to shop for groceries each day. The entire family, led by the grandmother, would get up very early and drive for hours to pick up a particular type of chili, then go a couple of hours in the opposite direction to buy some galangal, and finally another hour south to pick up fresh kaffir lime leaves. By the time the shopping was done, they had driven five or six hours to get ingredients for THAT evening’s dinner. I found it fascinating that each ingredient was so special and distinct, that it was worth all that time and trouble.

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