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.
Last night One for the Table got a sneak peek into what promises to be Culver City’s newest hot spot—A-Frame—the brainchild of restaurateur David Reiss and rockstar chef Roy Choi of Kogi BBQ fame. Like most of Choi’s ventures, the menu reads like a sugar-crazed kid’s take on gourmet cuisine. Blazin’ Jay’s kettle corn, sprinkled with furikake and mixed with Corn Pops, is a total guilty pleasure. And don’t get me started on the milk chocolate dipped churros or the fried apple pie with cheddar ice cream.
La Sandia
Greenspans is tiny and sandwiched (no pun intended) in between a bar and some tacky Melrose clothing store on the old Tommy Tang strip of Melrose, where Evan Kleiman opened Angeli Cafe all those years ago. Back then all of the good actors in town could be found in Milton Katselas’s Mon and Wed night class at the Zepher Theater just across the street, and Chianti was down the block serving up perfect stracciatella soup. That stretch was something back in its day. (Pardon the walk back 30 years).
There’s something about being up at 4:00 a.m. that I feel, gives me permission to go to hell in a hand basket, gastronomically speaking. I dropped my husband and kids off at LAX so he could escort them to Connecticut for summer camp. I always feel bereft when the kids are away. Especially our younger daughter Hannah, who I think on the eve of leaving, feels obligated to be sweeter to make up for the fact that her older sister Lena, urged by her teenage-ness, becomes, well, let’s just say, not so sweet.