I love food. And I love going out to eat and trying new places. And I
love talking about food. In fact, I love food so much that whenever I'm
eating I actually try not to get too full so that I'll be able to eat
again in another two hours—which is something I think I inherited from
my mother. When I was a kid, I thought it took five hours to get to
Santa Barbara from LA because she would take the Pacific Coast Highway and stop to eat
three times. (If you are not familiar with the geography of Southern
California, it shouldn’t take more than an hour and a half to get to
Santa Barbara).
But despite that fact that I grew up in a household where it was the norm to discuss what we were going to eat for lunch during breakfast (even if breakfast was at 12pm), I am not a foodie. I hate restaurants that pile food into thimble sized pyramids in the middle of oversized square plates. And when things like soup are served in shot glasses (unless you're Hatfield's and then you can do whatever you want). But the other night when my lovely boyfriend realized that not only did he not owe extra taxes, but he was getting a hefty refund, I wanted him to take me somewhere nice to make up for all those nights of sopitos at Poquito Mas while he anticipated paying what he thought was going to be a huge bill from the government. It turns out my step-dad is not the only man in my life who can’t do his own accounting. No offense, Alan.
Sometimes you don’t know a place is missing from a neighborhood until it opens. That’s how I feel about the new Sweet Lady Jane that opened a few months ago in Santa Monica up towards the east-end of the shop on Montana Avenue. I just hadn’t realized before – there really wasn’t anywhere to buy a perfect cherry pie (or a chocolate cake) or a delicious croissant or stop in for lunch and feel like just at the table next to you someone’s having an interesting conversation while you have one yourself accompanied by a perfect curried chicken salad sandwich (not an easy thing by the way) or home-made soup or if you need something cozy, a perfect grilled cheese, and the promise of a perfect cappucino (even though you don’t drink coffee at lunch).
And then, of course, any of their perfect sweets, a heavenly slice of cake, a hefty slice of pie. And you won’t be able to help yourself – you’ll bring something home for dessert that night, too – and if you’re anything like us, place an order for one or two pies for Sunday night (and maybe a chocolate cake) because you’ve just been inspired by Sweet Lady Jane to invite people over for Sunday dinner.
Despite the fact I have parents who eat ice cream almost every day (if they could have it at every meal, they would), until
recently I thought I could live happily without ever lifting a dessert spoon again.
Everybody has them. Those neighborhood joints you walk/drive by a
million times but never go into. For no good reason. The place looks
nice enough and clearly has customers, but you always just pass it by.
We've lived in the Valley for over a decade, within walking distance of
the Great Greek and we never went until last month. Our friends, S and
K (who used to live nearby) were horrified. Turns out the GG is one of
their all time favorite places. Or so they claimed. You'd think if that
were true they would have drug us there long before the night K was due
to leave the country for an extended length of time. Of course, it was
the one restaurant she just had to eat at one more time before she
left, so that has to count for something. I guess there isn't a lot of
Greek food where she's going.