Los Angeles

I hold restaurant grudges. Big time. If they take french fries off the menu and replace them with sweet potato fries (ahem, Melrose Bar & Grill), if I get sick from the seaweed salad (ahem, Reel Food Daily), if the take out portions are unreasonably small and unbelievably expensive (ahem, Nook), mark my words, I will never come back. EVER. But what happened the first time I went to the Foundry, might not have been entirely their fault.

I was starving and jet-lagged and I was with my then new, "not-quite-boyfriend" with whom things were getting increasingly awkward. We ordered vodka sodas while we waited for our table that wasn't quite ready, plopped ourselves into bar stools and took a much-needed sip of . . . tonic. I hate tonic. I'm actually allergic to tonic, but no one ever believes me when I say that. It was an honest enough mistake and was quickly corrected. But when we finally sat down, I noticed there were only four things on the menu. Four. Something with duck confit, some kind of lamb situation, veal and chicken. They were out of chicken. So Mr. Wrong left some money on the table, politely explained that I'd just gotten off a plane and we needed something a little less . . . fussy.

Food 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.

It's all my friend Jo's fault. She brought me to LudoBites 3.0 at Royal T in Culver City just over 2 years ago. I had never heard of Chef Ludo before and really wasn't that into food, but I was happy to go along for the ride. This was still in the early days of the "pop-up" phenomenon – where a chef takes over a restaurant not normally open for dinner for a night or, in Ludo's case for a few weeks. At that point it/he was still a novelty, so getting a table was still possible and not left up to the whims of fate.  I learned quickly that while dining with foodies you are required to share plates (something I'm still not always a fan of) and at least try everything that is put in front of you – unless it will kill you. Ludo hooked me with my first bite of his food – a foie gras beignet – and sealed the deal forever with his crispy fried chicken. (Now thankfully available on a regular basis from his food truck. Find it. Eat it. You will never think of chicken the same way again.)

Now whenever a new version is announced, our household goes into the same tizzy as the rest of the food community in Los Angeles, wondering if we're going to get a reservation. We have to get in. It's no longer an option. For LudoBites 8.0, his wife Krissy (the organizational brains behind the Man) switched reservation systems from a computer free-for-all, keep-clicking-in-the-hopes-you-get-thru to a 24-hour, enter-at-your-own pace, lottery where you honestly had just as much of a shot in hell of getting a seat, just without the frustration, angst and sore finger. Lucky for us, we got a reservation.

Joe’s restaurant on Abbot-Kinney in Venice, California is a delight and a deal.  Michelin thinks so, having just given this French-California gem a star.  And my entire family agrees, and we are not always the most agreeable foursome.  Our recent love affair with Joe’s began when I took my husband there for his birthday lunch several weeks ago.  A friend joined our table.  We ordered from a three course prix fixe menu that ran about $17.00.  There was also a two-course lunch with many choices that was much cheaper.  The dishes were innovative and fun, reminiscent of my favorite French or Bay Area menus (Larkspur Inn, Aqua, French Laundry).   Even the bread was incredible.  The service was great and, important to me, flexible and easy.