Los Angeles

Before Trois Mec opened, being able to claim you attended one of Chef Ludo Lefebvre's infamous LudoBites pop-ups was sort of a badge of honor amongst Angelenos. An elusive and super cool experience that you couldn't stop talking about, even if it made your foodie friends more than a little jealous. The locations were somewhat off the beaten path, the food completely unexpected, at least for newbies to the world of haute cuisine like me. The community vibe and air of excitement while dining, palpable. What makes this new endeavor of a permanent space even more exciting is his partnership with Animal owners Jon Shook and Vinny Dotolo. I've only have the pleasure of eating at Animal once, but it was as exciting and memorable as any LudoBites. When it comes to fine dining with a twist, no one in LA is doing it better than these three.

While this is a partnership - Jon and Vinny have two other restaurants to run - this is Ludo's kitchen. Located in a strip mall on Highland in a converted pizza joint - they still haven't changed the Raffallo's sign - it's not much to look at from the outside. Yet once you cross the threshold and are welcomed with a hearty "Bon Soir!" by the whole staff, you know you've come to the right place. All the great things about LudoBites have been carried over to Trois Mec, but somehow it feels different. More refined, yet more relaxed. Since it's a permanent space, the frenetic nature of having to prepare the food in three hours is gone, but the intensity in the kitchen, the "just make happen" attitude has not diminished one bit.

After experiencing Trois Mec twice, once very early, once after it officially opened, I have to say his food is better than ever. Simpler in a way, though just as inventive with the complex flavors he's come to be known for. It seems cleaner and more vibrant, taking the essence of an item and cranking it up to 11. The presentation is beautiful as well, each course served on a different piece of pottery or antique French plates, designed to showcase just that particular dish.

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.

But how could I not try Umami burger? Everyone’s been talking about it and even the name is sort of intriguing. Umami: the fifth taste. What the hell is the fifth taste? My friend Ben Chinn and I had to find out.

My mother used to tell me she would drive to Malibu several times a week.  She wouldn't stop there, just drive there and back.  To relax…to write in her head...to figure things out. She doesn't do it anymore, because of the price of gas, it's wasteful...but every once in awhile I'll wake up early and do the drive myself...watching the coastline as I speed by...I'd pay more for a movie...

When my parents first split up they weren't exactly on the best of terms. My time was divided. I spent way more of it with my Mom, and distinct brackets with my dad. My Mom and I had an easier time hanging out, satisfied with doing nothing.  One Wednesday, in the middle of the day, she drove me along the coast. 'Where are we going,' I thought to myself, but I didn't dare ask, for one because she wouldn't have told me if I had, but also because she probably didn't know herself. She stopped at one point and we got out of the car. She disappeared up a small trail you would barely notice, and I followed her up the mountain.

Breakfast this weekend was punctuated with a pronouncement from The Mom. “The best fish I ever ate”, this from a women who has been eating cured, smoked, salted, baked salmon for 94 years. I may be a native Los Angelena, but you can’t deny eastern European roots when it comes to a love of cured fish.

The silky texture with a touch of resistance, the fishy flavor transformed somehow, depending on the method of curing, into a deeper sense of the sea. And with kippered or baked salmon a perfect solidity of texture imbued with a hint of smoke and black pepper.

Los Angeles is rapidly growing into a world-class eating destination.  That peak fish experience didn’t come from a mail order delivery from Russ and Daughters in NYC or a couple of peachy orange translucent slices begged “under the table” slices of Wexler’s smoked salmon still unavailable by the pound to take home.

There’s a lot to talk about when it comes to Gjusta, the new Gjelina food hall project from Travis Lett, Fran Camaj and several culinary and managing collaborators.