You'll never find this place on your own; you have to know someone. The Thin Man and I are just that lucky. Michele lives close by and does a fast focus so we can shoot and eat while everything's still hot. DaoFu is in Normal Heights and the fusion menu shares Thai, China, India, Vietnam and Japan. Michele says, "There's nothing normal about Normal." I don't see anything weird other than a guy on the street with his dog, who's still in the same spot when we emerge later. The dog is clearly unhappy.
To check it out, you have to be a detective. That's because in December they were told to stop using the name Tao and so they became DaoFu. Back story: Vegas dudes took issue with the name, according to our server. Why is Tao Asian nightclub in the Venetian Hotel agonizing over a place 326 miles away? Vegas Tao seats 3,000; Tweets to 75,000; lists 139,000 Facebook friends, hosts an annoying website and features scantily clad women. DaoFu, nee Tao, has no website, no Twitter presence, it closes at 9, and seats 50 fully dressed crunchies in a storefront. Same thing.
DaoFu is a place you want in your neighborhood, but not if you live in Nevada. It's chic with flowers, dessert, beer, wine and smart servers. It's also funky and the funk part is writing on the walls. Every inch is covered in graffiti. The owner says to himself, what else? "Okay, hungry people, go draw on the walls." The dominant theme is animal motifs. Of course.
Though I'm not a betting person, I would have put my small stash of
savings on the line if anyone had told me a year ago that I would
become a seafood lover. While still not on the sushi bandwagon, I have
to say that 2009 changed my mind about how good fish can be. Of course,
that is, when prepared by professionals using the freshest fish
available. Chef Ludo Lefebvre prepared the best seafood dish I have ever
had at LudoBites 3.0, one that I instantly wanted more of, much to my
husband's disbelief. When we go out to dinner, one bite of his fish is
usually enough for me. However, I know I wouldn't have enjoyed it as
much if I hadn't discovered Pier 46 Seafood first.
Last Friday I took my daughter Hannah to tour Chapman College located only an hour south of Los Angeles, making it very convenient for her to bring me her laundry should she get in. Chapman is located in the charming area of Old Town Orange and we were given a personal tour of the campus by none other than the Dean of Admissions himself, Michael Pelley. Look in the dictionary for the opposite of ‘stuffy’ and you'll find Michael Pelly. Hannah had never interviewed at a college before and she was uncharacteristically mute when meeting with the Dean of The Film School. But not with Pelly. He was the ultimate host giving us a comprehensive tour that created the appropriate sense of longing. 
I've always had a strange relationship with The Wedge. I see it on the menu, I want it, I plan to order it and then I change my mind. I'm always afraid that I'm going to get stuck with a chunk of iceberg lettuce (no nutritional value) smothered with cheap, prefab blue cheese dressing (that's neither blue nor cheese). Then suddenly, this summer, after a day at the dog-friendly Hendry's Beach in Santa Barbara – there it was – not just on the menu but at the next table – what looked like the most delicious wedge salad in the world.
With my weekend plans suddenly cancelled, I got to drive up my beloved
Central Coast for a second visit to Cambria in a month. Both times, I
had one place in mind at which to dine: Black Cat Bistro. Since I first
enjoyed dinner there last year, I have made it a point to return each
time I have the opportunity. While I enjoy exploring new restaurants,
Cambria is a small enough place, so I have almost gone to all the fine
dining restaurants in town. Black Cat Bistro is my first choice, and I
have pretty much made it my mission to try the whole menu this year.
Even with my point overages on my Weight Watchers plan, this
oh-so-delicious task will be worth it!