Southern California

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!

Despite the small size of Cambria, there are a good amount of locals that frequent the restaurant, as well as us out-of-town regulars. On a Friday night you should be able to snag a table in the main dining room or a seat at the bar. However, on a Saturday night I would highly recommend reservations. Since I travel alone (by choice, really!), I prefer to sit at the bar so that I can get a sneak peak at the various dishes coming out of the kitchen as they are taken to each table.  Not to mention, chef Deborah Scarborough peeks out from the kitchen from time to time.

"Can I get real milk?"

"Honey, you're not in LA, it's creamers or black coffee for you."

He must have been expecting a brat face back because my smile caught him off guard. He had no idea that he had said the magic words and black diner coffee was exactly what I was after.

Thom and I had both woken up at 4am to work on set on different commercials, he is a stylist and I was working as a wardrobe assistant. After our respective jobs wrapped we met up at the Bootleg Theater to see Buffy Sainte Marie, who gave everyone in the audience an out of body experience. By 12:30am we were on the road to Palm Desert, picking up our friend Merrick on the way. We got to the desert by 3am, went straight to sleep, and woke up the next day to enter Coachella.

Nightmare upon nightmare it took us three hours to get into the festival (those con artists woudn't sell single day tickets this year and it's the only year the festival has sold out) so we waited in traffic and line upon line to enter a post apocalyptic like field filled with hipsters and, well, L.A.

I LOVE breakfast! It’s my favorite meal of the day. How anyone can skip it is a mystery to me. However, the cost of it has gotten a bit out of hand at most places in LA, so we rarely go out to eat it when we’re at home. Plus this is a meal I have a firm grasp on as a cook. While I may not be Top Chef material, I can make a mean chilaquiles, egg mcMuffin or frittata to compete with most diners and dives out there. So when I find myself out of town, I do hard research on where to get the best breakfast - a place with interesting menu options without breaking the bank. It IS the most important meal of the day.  

We don’t go to “The Desert” (a.k.a. Palm Springs, which refers to the whole region despite the various other small cities surrounding it) very often. I mean LA is hot enough, but sometimes you just need to escape to somewhere more relaxed, where wearing a bathing suit all day is de riguer and lounging by the pool a necessity (otherwise you’d die of heat exhaustion). A quick internet search turned up Cheeky’s (the menu had me at cheddar scones), but it was too far from where we were staying and we’d never be able to make it there before 9:00am, a must if you want to beat the breakfast crowd in any city. (I am officially too old to waste time waiting in line for anything, especially something so ordinary as breakfast.) So, we were thrilled when a local friend told us about Louise’s Pantry. She said it was the best and locals always know.

You might remember we were on a slight squash kick recently. It coincided with a visit to one of my favorite restaurants here in Long Beach, Michael’s Pizzeria. I’ve said a million times that I don’t really “do” restaurant coverage because a) it’s overdone and b) it’s not my thing. I think the irony is that I get to eat in some of the most amazing places all over the damn globe and could probably have a blog over just restaurants alone, but again, it’s best left for others. Having said that, when I do write about a restaurant it’s because I find it pretty special and/or I’ve graciously stolen a recipe to inspire me at home. This is one of those cases on both accounts.

A few things you will not engage me on unless we are best friends and in the comfort of my own home: religion, women’s reproductive rights, politics, and who makes the best pizza. I’m no dummy. Each topic is loaded with sensitivity, opinion, and weighs a million tons. I’m better off just smiling and talking about pretty plates and napkins and puppies.

When it comes to pizza, I will not argue with you about what you like or who makes the better pie. Why waste my time? I will, however, tell you that I prefer a thinner crust, only a few high quality toppings, and fired quickly at a high temperature. See? How evasive was that? Truth be told, meet my few easy requirements and chances are I’ll enjoy it. Which is why I prefer pizza napoletana. Keep your deep dish, pal.