Los Angeles

If you should find yourself visiting a much-more-hip-than-you relative in the much-more-hip-than-where-you-live section of L.A. called Silver Lake, stop in at a wee restaurant called Sqirl. It’s worth the humiliation of being the least hip person in the neighborhood on a Friday afternoon.

Sqirl is famous for their jams (like Santa Rosa Plum and Flowering Thyme, or Shady Lady Tomato) but the menu rocks with lots of other treats, some vegan, some decidedly not, like the Famed Ricotta Toast, which was my pick. (I loaded it with Snow Queen Nectarine jam.)

I told my daughter I could eat it every day for breakfast. She pointed out that if I did so I would end up the size of a house.

So, no, I won’t be having this every day for breakfast. But I will have it again next time I cross the hipness border into Silver Lake.

Twenty 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.

Is there an uptick in the number of French restaurants in Los Angeles?  I certainly hope so.  French food = comfort food.  At least in the case of Le Saint Amour in Culver City.  I haven’t kept track, and I don’t really know actual figures but it seems to me that there are more and more French restaurants opening in Los Angeles.  And that’s a good thing.  We’ve been so Italian for so long that I’m ready for the return of France.  The best recent example of this was my weekend visit to the very French Le Saint Amour, a Culver City restaurant that has been open for a year and a half.

But before I go there, a bit more on French restaurants in Los Angeles, (San Francisco and New York too).  I just checked on Open Table and seventy-four French restaurants came up in a search for Los Angeles and Orange counties.  A quick cursory glance and I’d remove a number of them because they’re not truly French.  A secondary search of West Hollywood/Beverly Hills/Mid-Wilshire and the Westside gave me thirty-five results.  For those same neighborhoods seventy-three results pop up for Italian.

Not scientific in the least.  The reason I say there seem to be more French places: Le Saint Amour, Petrossian, Fraîche Culver City (French chef Benjamin Bailly), RESTAURANT at the Sunset Marquis (French chef Guillaume Burlion), Church & State, Comme Ça, Bistro LQ (French chef Laurent Quenioux), RH at the Andaz (French chef Pierre Gomes), to name a few and not naming the many that have French influenced menus, or American chefs that lean towards cooking French food. 

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. 

We 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.”