Restaurants fail for lots of reasons. Location. Concept. Overhead. Arrogance. Incompetence. General crappiness. Or just good old fashioned shitty luck.
Or some restaurants could just fail from good old fashioned retarded hubris.
Last week saw the collapse of two restaurants due to run-ins with our friends at the ABC.
For those of you unfamiliar, the Alcoholic Beverage Control issues and regulates liquor licenses in the state of California. When opening a restaurant in California, your best hope is to buy an establishment with an already existing liquor license. Woe be to the restaurant that seeks to start from scratch in an un-licensed space.
For you see, the ABC is a massive self-perpetuating bureaucracy that needs all the hoops it puts in place to survive. The more hoops, the more opportunities for fines and processing fees. And all because we're a nation founded by Puritans, went through a dozen or so years sans-hooch in the 1920's, and then nobody stopped and said, "Hey wait a minute, this is irrelevant and pointless now."
So what brought down Vinoteque and Goa? Underage drinking? Unchecked sex? Nope. Simple flagrant violations of simple rules.
Vinoteque had use restrictions on their license, including limitations on how late they could serve alcohol outside and how late they could have live music. They violated these restrictions. They were warned. They again violated them. So they lost their license.
I'm not sure what the owners expected. The ABC isn't in business to make it easy to have a liquor license, but I suppose anyone who decorates a space in the style of 1993 must be okay playing fast and loose with the regulatory body that secures their livelihood.
In Goa's case, they were operating under a type "47" liquor license. A 47 is a license for eating establishments that serve alcohol. Which means restaurants and pubs, not trendy nightclubs open to all hours with celebutantes and swarthy douchebags vomiting on each other on Wednesday nights. Apparently Goa never did get their food program in order. Another restriction on 47 licenses has to do with dancing. An eating establishment with live music (a "cabaret") needs to have a clearly delineated dance floor. This might sound like an irrelevant nuance, except that it's put in place so that restaurants can't use the more easily-obtained 47 license to backdoor themselves into becoming a nightclub.
When there is so much at stake financially, why the hell wouldn't you obey the rules? I'm all for anti-authoritarianism but I'm also all for profit and flaunting your lack of conformity at the risk of your livelihood seems ridiculously silly. What point are you trying to make besides "fuck you ABC?"
It could very well be that these establishments were doomed to fail anyway. There was always something off about Vinoteque and nightclubs in Hollywood have a history of disappearing after a year or two, but why hasten the demise by being an arrogant prick?
Play by the rules, get people liquored up, and close when you're supposed to. And then make money. If you want business without regulation, go to Somalia.
Or open an investment bank on Wall Street.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Fucking Sliders Motherfuck Ballsack
I'm fucking tired of sliders. I cannae think of a more pretentiously ridiculous and retardedly annoying trend in the history of dining since the Romans stuffed a llama inside a bear inside a grapefruit.
The only good sliders is the mid-90's Jerry O'Connell vehicle on Fox.
Sliders are that rare instance of cuisine sliding "up" on the class scale. This is a phenomenon normally reserved for Italian food and drink where the wretched waste-cuisine of the underclass becomes luxury cuisine in America because we decide that anyone with an accent and wearing a suit sans-tie must know something we don't. In this manner we get grappa, the skin-melting distilled remnants of wine and brandy production, that costs a hundred dollars a bottle.
Here's the usual process by which food finds its way to the masses. Thomas Keller at the French Laundry goes (between blowjobs from Vestal Virgins) "Hey, you know what would be good with these mixed greens? Some fresh peaches and candied pecans." Once that happens, all the court and retainers of the Cal Cuisine palace have seasonal fruit and nut salads on their menus. Then it trickles downhill to TGI Friday's and Chili's before finally finding its place on the menus at McDonald's' worldwide.
The slider took the reverse path, starting as a novelty pre-fast food fast food gimmick, remaining there for most of a century, and then entering the national public consciousness thanks to an epic movie from 2004.
As an aside, on a fraternity-related trip to Minneapolis I ended up at an all-black strip club with several prominent alumni brothers, after indulging in a venti cafe mocha (as it were) one of the brothers decided it'd be a good idea to take a taxi cab to the White Castle drive through at last call. That cab ride cost about $200.
There's a reason that tiny hamburgers remained the bastion of a medium-sized fast food restaurant chain for so long and didn't cross the blood-brain barrier into the mainstream until about 2005.
They fucking suck.
Is this a case similar to that of Miller High Life, PBR, trucker hats, moustaches, or Dickie's? Where a proud symbol of blue collar America and/or homosexuality becomes an ironic emblem of hipster douchebaggery?
Yes.
I don't care if it's lamb, or pork, or Kobe beef, or Wagyu beef, or fucking beef massaged by fucking strippers with fucking gold-plated areolae--IT'S STILL A TINY FUCKING HAMBURGER FOR LIKE WAY TOO MUCH MONEY!
In one instance, a restaurant served a single slider, a small pile of french fries, and a 2oz. milkshake on a plate and called it haute cuisine. I call it bullshit with a cherry on top.
Recently I had a "chicken and waffle" slider. It sucked. It was dry and gross. It was cute to be sure, but so is oleander and oleander will kill you.
"Oh look Harold, isnt' that cute? It's a tiny hamburger! That's darling! I want a dozen of them! Isn't that great? Ooooh! It's like I can eat a hamburger in just one little bite. That means it's not a real burger! It's like negative calories! What? You're sleeping with your secretary! I can't belive you Harold!"
And that's how sliders break up your family.
I hereby call for a boycott of all slider-serving restaurants nationwide, except for White Castle.
The only good sliders is the mid-90's Jerry O'Connell vehicle on Fox.
Sliders are that rare instance of cuisine sliding "up" on the class scale. This is a phenomenon normally reserved for Italian food and drink where the wretched waste-cuisine of the underclass becomes luxury cuisine in America because we decide that anyone with an accent and wearing a suit sans-tie must know something we don't. In this manner we get grappa, the skin-melting distilled remnants of wine and brandy production, that costs a hundred dollars a bottle.
Here's the usual process by which food finds its way to the masses. Thomas Keller at the French Laundry goes (between blowjobs from Vestal Virgins) "Hey, you know what would be good with these mixed greens? Some fresh peaches and candied pecans." Once that happens, all the court and retainers of the Cal Cuisine palace have seasonal fruit and nut salads on their menus. Then it trickles downhill to TGI Friday's and Chili's before finally finding its place on the menus at McDonald's' worldwide.
The slider took the reverse path, starting as a novelty pre-fast food fast food gimmick, remaining there for most of a century, and then entering the national public consciousness thanks to an epic movie from 2004.
As an aside, on a fraternity-related trip to Minneapolis I ended up at an all-black strip club with several prominent alumni brothers, after indulging in a venti cafe mocha (as it were) one of the brothers decided it'd be a good idea to take a taxi cab to the White Castle drive through at last call. That cab ride cost about $200.
There's a reason that tiny hamburgers remained the bastion of a medium-sized fast food restaurant chain for so long and didn't cross the blood-brain barrier into the mainstream until about 2005.
They fucking suck.
Is this a case similar to that of Miller High Life, PBR, trucker hats, moustaches, or Dickie's? Where a proud symbol of blue collar America and/or homosexuality becomes an ironic emblem of hipster douchebaggery?
Yes.
I don't care if it's lamb, or pork, or Kobe beef, or Wagyu beef, or fucking beef massaged by fucking strippers with fucking gold-plated areolae--IT'S STILL A TINY FUCKING HAMBURGER FOR LIKE WAY TOO MUCH MONEY!
In one instance, a restaurant served a single slider, a small pile of french fries, and a 2oz. milkshake on a plate and called it haute cuisine. I call it bullshit with a cherry on top.
Recently I had a "chicken and waffle" slider. It sucked. It was dry and gross. It was cute to be sure, but so is oleander and oleander will kill you.
"Oh look Harold, isnt' that cute? It's a tiny hamburger! That's darling! I want a dozen of them! Isn't that great? Ooooh! It's like I can eat a hamburger in just one little bite. That means it's not a real burger! It's like negative calories! What? You're sleeping with your secretary! I can't belive you Harold!"
And that's how sliders break up your family.
I hereby call for a boycott of all slider-serving restaurants nationwide, except for White Castle.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Concept vs. Conceptual: An Analysis
Before I dive into what will surely be a dry and whimsical observational discussion peppered with profanity and/or sexual allusions, I must pour a little out for the late David Foster Wallace.
I haven't read Infinite Jest, and probably won't as my patience with novels ends at about the 300 page mark, but I've read much of The Girl with Curious Hair and am a big fan of Wallace's reporting and essays.
I guess as a writer I like to think that the madness and brilliance of those I admire is something crafted, reasoned, and assembled on the page. Yet what should just be the literary artifice of a master craftsman is so often revealed (at least in part) to be the shouts in the dark of a tortured mind.
That was far too serious, wasn't it?
Moving on....
I'm not going to say this is an uniquely LA problem with restaurants, but it's definitely most clearly manifested in Los Angeles. The restaurant with a concept versus the conceptual restaurant.
Every successful restaurant has a concept. Hell, every successful THING has a concept, whether that thing is an electric sports car with a practical range, gimmicky frozen "yogurt," or a tv show about philandering ad executives in the 1960's.
If you don't have a healthy concept you're doomed to failure. Bacaro is a Venetian-styled wine bar. Ford's Filling Station is a gastropub for the power lunching set. Bar Pintxo is, well, a bar that serves pintxos.
Restaurants run into trouble when the conceptual aspect of the restaurant is the master of the restaurant aspect of the restaurant. All concept no execution can be a restaurant's greatest failing.
I ate recently at South on Wilshire Blvd. in Santa Monica. Everything about how that restaurant/bar markets itself iis "southern" themed. They force all sorts of kitschy southern lingo and references on you, yet you step inside and all you get is another characterless douche-y Brentwood bar. And the chicken and waffle sliders (a concept I loved) ended right at the conceptual. Dry, flavorless fried chicken between a pair of serviceable mini-waffles served with syrup and "gravy" on the side. Lame.
Fraiche conceptualizes itself as an organic Cal-Cuisine haven when in fact it's just another uninspired expense-account draining lunch spot.
And then there's Table 8 which declares itself to be a celebrity chef-driven trendsetter despite having a chef that nobody really cares about, a menu steeped in overplayed drivel, and a strong reputation for not paying their bills. I mean seriously, I keep pretty close tabs on the food world and Govind Armstrong is a legend purely in his own mind.
Conceptual restaurants, like conceptual art, are best enjoyed while stoned and wearing a beret. Maybe then I can come to understand why I'm privileged to bay $16 for a shitty hamburger or $12 for a glass of grocery store wine simply because it's served on a plate once owned by Richard Pryor or wrapped in a map of Armenian brothels.
A good concept can (and probably should) be as simple as "a comfortable place to eat good fresh food and enjoy well-priced wine" or "a neighborhood pizzeria offering an alternative to delivery chains" or even "mediocre vegetarian food served by Hare Krishnas." These are all solid concepts that often yield successful restaurants
But here on the spendfree shores of Los Angeles everybody needs to stick their finger in the pie, so we end up with places like Rush Street Grill, which has the concept of "Chicago," yet with no fat poorly facial-haired cab drivers in Bears jerseys to be found, or Gyenari whose concept is basically "Koren bbq for a lot money."
If you spend all your money on bells and whistles to the neglect of the actual food, you might find that people will stop coming back. But I don't know how true that holds in Los Angeles where people will spend incomprehensible amounts of money just to be seen in the right place.
Everything else is secondary.
I haven't read Infinite Jest, and probably won't as my patience with novels ends at about the 300 page mark, but I've read much of The Girl with Curious Hair and am a big fan of Wallace's reporting and essays.
I guess as a writer I like to think that the madness and brilliance of those I admire is something crafted, reasoned, and assembled on the page. Yet what should just be the literary artifice of a master craftsman is so often revealed (at least in part) to be the shouts in the dark of a tortured mind.
That was far too serious, wasn't it?
Moving on....
I'm not going to say this is an uniquely LA problem with restaurants, but it's definitely most clearly manifested in Los Angeles. The restaurant with a concept versus the conceptual restaurant.
Every successful restaurant has a concept. Hell, every successful THING has a concept, whether that thing is an electric sports car with a practical range, gimmicky frozen "yogurt," or a tv show about philandering ad executives in the 1960's.
If you don't have a healthy concept you're doomed to failure. Bacaro is a Venetian-styled wine bar. Ford's Filling Station is a gastropub for the power lunching set. Bar Pintxo is, well, a bar that serves pintxos.
Restaurants run into trouble when the conceptual aspect of the restaurant is the master of the restaurant aspect of the restaurant. All concept no execution can be a restaurant's greatest failing.
I ate recently at South on Wilshire Blvd. in Santa Monica. Everything about how that restaurant/bar markets itself iis "southern" themed. They force all sorts of kitschy southern lingo and references on you, yet you step inside and all you get is another characterless douche-y Brentwood bar. And the chicken and waffle sliders (a concept I loved) ended right at the conceptual. Dry, flavorless fried chicken between a pair of serviceable mini-waffles served with syrup and "gravy" on the side. Lame.
Fraiche conceptualizes itself as an organic Cal-Cuisine haven when in fact it's just another uninspired expense-account draining lunch spot.
And then there's Table 8 which declares itself to be a celebrity chef-driven trendsetter despite having a chef that nobody really cares about, a menu steeped in overplayed drivel, and a strong reputation for not paying their bills. I mean seriously, I keep pretty close tabs on the food world and Govind Armstrong is a legend purely in his own mind.
Conceptual restaurants, like conceptual art, are best enjoyed while stoned and wearing a beret. Maybe then I can come to understand why I'm privileged to bay $16 for a shitty hamburger or $12 for a glass of grocery store wine simply because it's served on a plate once owned by Richard Pryor or wrapped in a map of Armenian brothels.
A good concept can (and probably should) be as simple as "a comfortable place to eat good fresh food and enjoy well-priced wine" or "a neighborhood pizzeria offering an alternative to delivery chains" or even "mediocre vegetarian food served by Hare Krishnas." These are all solid concepts that often yield successful restaurants
But here on the spendfree shores of Los Angeles everybody needs to stick their finger in the pie, so we end up with places like Rush Street Grill, which has the concept of "Chicago," yet with no fat poorly facial-haired cab drivers in Bears jerseys to be found, or Gyenari whose concept is basically "Koren bbq for a lot money."
If you spend all your money on bells and whistles to the neglect of the actual food, you might find that people will stop coming back. But I don't know how true that holds in Los Angeles where people will spend incomprehensible amounts of money just to be seen in the right place.
Everything else is secondary.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
HFF On The Road: I-5
I drive a lot. I drive a whole helluva lot. Primarily for work, though for a few other reasons too. Sometimes when I'm out on the road I don't have time to sit down and eat in a restaurant. I try to make sandwiches and bring snack bars with me but inevitably some days I need to get food quickly and cheaply on the road. And it usually needs to be portable enough to eat one-handed while I drive.
In short, I'm rediscovering fast food.
First thing's first though. Trader Joe's has some excellent inexpensive on-the-road food. For instance the little prepackaged containers of celery and peanut butter. Classy Handi-Snaks. Trader Joe's bread, particularly the California-Style Complete Protein Bread and the Whole Wheat with Soy & Flax make sandwiches with excellent structural integrity. Add dill sandwich pickles, organic mayo and yellow mustard, and a hefty handful of baby spinach or arugula, slice on the diagonal and you've got yourself a freakin' great sandwich.
In the world of snack bars, Odwalla Bars are tops for balanced nutrition (Berries GoMega and Chocolate Chip Peanut are both excellent) while Clif Builder's Bars are great for caloric density. Odwalla Bars have the added bonus of remaining relatively intact in a hot car. The primarily palm oil based chocolate on the Builder's Bars starts melting into a soup once your car hits 75 degrees.
On to fast food.
In-n-Out:
Fries and a grilled cheese. Add a milkshake and I actually have enough food to get me through the day. Only problems? Usually very long lines at peak lunch hours and you can't eat an animal style sandwich in the car.
Del Taco:
What can I say about Del Taco? Del Taco's simply the best fast food value out there. Cheap, portable, and much of their ingredients made from scratch daily. I think of Del Taco as the In-n-Out of Cal-Mex fast food. The best thing at Del Taco are their Tacos al Carbon, a reasonable approximation of Mexican "street" tacos with meat, cilantro, and onions. These aren't too portable for the drive so I'll usually opt for a Chicken Mole Burrito or the old Bean & Cheese standby.
Taco Bell:
Mediocre even by mediocre standards, Taco Bell nevertheless can provide quick and portable nutrition. Stick to bean & cheese or chicken & rice burritos. Remarkably good for you if you forget about the sodium content.
Carl's Jr.:
Tried these guys out for the first time in a long time on my last I-5 drive. The chicken sandwich was bland and not very portable, but I do appreciate their "natural cut" (i.e. skin-on) french fries and the excellent fried zucchini.
Long John Silver's:
Great if you can ever find one. Perfect road trip food as much of it is offered in "popcorn" size.
KFC:
Another good bet if you stick with either the snack wraps or the popcorn chicken option. Potato wedges are a nicely greasy alternative to french fries. Don't try to eat a bucket of chicken wings on the highway though. Your upholstery and your colon will thank you.
Jack in the Box:
Jalapeno poppers. That's it.
McDonald's, Burger King, Wendy's:
Nope.
I would include smoothie places in the mix here but I can't find many Jamba Juices in LA and I don't trust anything named "Robek's." I'm curious to try the protein smoothies that Starbuck's is offering now. Seem to be pretty good for you and pretty cheap.
When it comes to road food it's all about nutritional density. A burger or chicken sandwich on a bun with a bunch of nutrient void lettuce and tomato isn't all that great (or easy to eat). But a chicken, bean, and rice burrito offers a pretty well balanced meal that's pretty good for you. Always skip the soft drink, even if you opt for iced tea or Diet Coke, both are shitty. Bring a reusable bottle of water with you, or swing by the drive-thru Starbucks for a real iced tea or coffee. Also, skip fries unless you really need the simple carbs. Better to get two burritos then to waste your calories on monotonous and (mostly) bland french fries.
And of course, when in doubt skip the fast food altogether, plan ahead, and bring a couple sandwiches and some trail mix. You'll be better off.
Plus if you bring a couple empty milk jugs and you won't have any reason to stop until you run out of gas.
In short, I'm rediscovering fast food.
First thing's first though. Trader Joe's has some excellent inexpensive on-the-road food. For instance the little prepackaged containers of celery and peanut butter. Classy Handi-Snaks. Trader Joe's bread, particularly the California-Style Complete Protein Bread and the Whole Wheat with Soy & Flax make sandwiches with excellent structural integrity. Add dill sandwich pickles, organic mayo and yellow mustard, and a hefty handful of baby spinach or arugula, slice on the diagonal and you've got yourself a freakin' great sandwich.
In the world of snack bars, Odwalla Bars are tops for balanced nutrition (Berries GoMega and Chocolate Chip Peanut are both excellent) while Clif Builder's Bars are great for caloric density. Odwalla Bars have the added bonus of remaining relatively intact in a hot car. The primarily palm oil based chocolate on the Builder's Bars starts melting into a soup once your car hits 75 degrees.
On to fast food.
In-n-Out:
Fries and a grilled cheese. Add a milkshake and I actually have enough food to get me through the day. Only problems? Usually very long lines at peak lunch hours and you can't eat an animal style sandwich in the car.
Del Taco:
What can I say about Del Taco? Del Taco's simply the best fast food value out there. Cheap, portable, and much of their ingredients made from scratch daily. I think of Del Taco as the In-n-Out of Cal-Mex fast food. The best thing at Del Taco are their Tacos al Carbon, a reasonable approximation of Mexican "street" tacos with meat, cilantro, and onions. These aren't too portable for the drive so I'll usually opt for a Chicken Mole Burrito or the old Bean & Cheese standby.
Taco Bell:
Mediocre even by mediocre standards, Taco Bell nevertheless can provide quick and portable nutrition. Stick to bean & cheese or chicken & rice burritos. Remarkably good for you if you forget about the sodium content.
Carl's Jr.:
Tried these guys out for the first time in a long time on my last I-5 drive. The chicken sandwich was bland and not very portable, but I do appreciate their "natural cut" (i.e. skin-on) french fries and the excellent fried zucchini.
Long John Silver's:
Great if you can ever find one. Perfect road trip food as much of it is offered in "popcorn" size.
KFC:
Another good bet if you stick with either the snack wraps or the popcorn chicken option. Potato wedges are a nicely greasy alternative to french fries. Don't try to eat a bucket of chicken wings on the highway though. Your upholstery and your colon will thank you.
Jack in the Box:
Jalapeno poppers. That's it.
McDonald's, Burger King, Wendy's:
Nope.
I would include smoothie places in the mix here but I can't find many Jamba Juices in LA and I don't trust anything named "Robek's." I'm curious to try the protein smoothies that Starbuck's is offering now. Seem to be pretty good for you and pretty cheap.
When it comes to road food it's all about nutritional density. A burger or chicken sandwich on a bun with a bunch of nutrient void lettuce and tomato isn't all that great (or easy to eat). But a chicken, bean, and rice burrito offers a pretty well balanced meal that's pretty good for you. Always skip the soft drink, even if you opt for iced tea or Diet Coke, both are shitty. Bring a reusable bottle of water with you, or swing by the drive-thru Starbucks for a real iced tea or coffee. Also, skip fries unless you really need the simple carbs. Better to get two burritos then to waste your calories on monotonous and (mostly) bland french fries.
And of course, when in doubt skip the fast food altogether, plan ahead, and bring a couple sandwiches and some trail mix. You'll be better off.
Plus if you bring a couple empty milk jugs and you won't have any reason to stop until you run out of gas.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Interesting Blog Discovery
Found a kindred spirit in the blog world when it comes to Yelp!
He could stand to be a little more profane, arrogantly self-righteous, but nobody's perfect.=^)
http://turkeydinner.net/takes-on-yelp/
He could stand to be a little more profane, arrogantly self-righteous, but nobody's perfect.=^)
http://turkeydinner.net/takes-on-yelp/
Monday, August 25, 2008
As if I Needed More Reasons Why Yelp! Sucks....
I've been on the Yelp!-hate bandwagon for a very long time, so it's wonderful to see the increasing attention that's being focused on Yelp!'s shady business practices and general shitiness.
Check out this post from EaterLA.
The basic gist? A proprietor complained to Yelp! about a factually inaccurate negative review and rather than ameliorate (or at the very least ignore) the situation, Yelp! actually removed a POSITIVE review under the dubious justification that they thought it was written by the proprietor. They also tried to sell her an advertising package that would deemphasize negative reviews.
Yelp! is also engaging in extortion-like practices. After a restaurant receives a flurry of negative reviews, Yelp! salespeople call the business offering to "fix" the situation in exchange for their advertising fee ($350/month) which will move the negative reviews to the bottom. Extortion by itself? No. But it is questionable because it opens up the opportunity for salespeople to load-up a site with negative reviews and then call to sell the service of deemphasizing those reviews.
For an extensive discussion of this topic, check out this article from The Register.
The first thing to remember is that Yelp! makes no money. Their expenses far exceed their revenue so they're trying everything they can to fix that.
The problem is they have two primary revenue streams:
1. They make money on general advertising generated by traffic to Yelp! To facilitate this, Yelp! pushes the social-networking aspect of their site so as to encourage users to spend a lot of time on the site and visit regularly.
2. They make money from the businesses that appear on Yelp! by selling them a variety of services at a range of prices that allow businesses to determine to a significant degree how their page appears.
It should be noted that Yelp! makes no claims to change the orders of user reviews for advertisers other than to allow the advertiser to select which review appears first. This is contradicted by numerous anecdotal claims by business owners, some of which are catalogued in the Register article linked to above.
But here's the conflict, businesses get pissed off about inaccurate/misleading/vindictive reviews, but Yelp! doesn't want to do anything about it since they don't want to alienate their users. This in turn alienates the businesses who then don't want to advertise. You see, why would you advertise on Yelp! if you have all positive reviews? Alternately, why would you give Yelp! money if you see it as an unregulated venue for malicious pricks with no real understanding of your business?
Thusly, why would any business give Yelp! money?
Enter the "rogue salespersons" who decide to target businesses that have received recent negative reviews (greatly streamlining their saleswork) and offer to push the negative reviews to the bottom. There are still no reports of negative reviews being removed, the terminology used in most articles is "deemphasized" or "suppressed."
Essentially the only way Yelp! can secure their second revenue stream is through either ignorance (rarely is there a restaurant of any particular esteem that has bought Yelp! advertising) and increasingly, extortion.
Businesses need to know that very few people actually make decisions based on viewing Yelp! It's basically a glorified phone book, especially outside of the SF Bay Area. Citysearch and Metromix are much simpler guides for the basics and also have their own editorial content.
Yelp! is exploiting the excitement/anxiety/fear/hype over "Web 2.0" to get money from businesses who might not be particularly well-versed in how the internet works. They might not know that 50,000 hits on a website doesn't mean 50,000 people will visit your restaurant. In most cases it doesn't mean 50 people will visit your restaurant.
So here we have for the first time my codified anti-Yelp! credo. Adopt it and help to bring an end to perhaps the shadiest major site on the internet.
1. Do not use Yelp! for any legitimate purpose. If you want to read it for research or to make fun of Yelp!ers then please do, but don't ever decide whether you'll visit a business or not because of Yelp! reviews either solely or in part.
2. Do not visit a business that has sponsored Yelp! They're collaborateurs. This should be surprisingly easy since as I mentioned before very few esteemed businesses sponsor Yelp!
3. Suggest that businesses remove their "People Love Us On Yelp!" stickers. Tell them that there's a growing group of disgruntled foodies who are starting to see this as a negative indicator. Kinda like the Hobo Code for "dishonest man lives here."
4. Always include the exclamation mark when writing about Yelp! I just think it makes Yelp! and Yelp!ers look silly.
Who's with me?
Check out this post from EaterLA.
The basic gist? A proprietor complained to Yelp! about a factually inaccurate negative review and rather than ameliorate (or at the very least ignore) the situation, Yelp! actually removed a POSITIVE review under the dubious justification that they thought it was written by the proprietor. They also tried to sell her an advertising package that would deemphasize negative reviews.
Yelp! is also engaging in extortion-like practices. After a restaurant receives a flurry of negative reviews, Yelp! salespeople call the business offering to "fix" the situation in exchange for their advertising fee ($350/month) which will move the negative reviews to the bottom. Extortion by itself? No. But it is questionable because it opens up the opportunity for salespeople to load-up a site with negative reviews and then call to sell the service of deemphasizing those reviews.
For an extensive discussion of this topic, check out this article from The Register.
The first thing to remember is that Yelp! makes no money. Their expenses far exceed their revenue so they're trying everything they can to fix that.
The problem is they have two primary revenue streams:
1. They make money on general advertising generated by traffic to Yelp! To facilitate this, Yelp! pushes the social-networking aspect of their site so as to encourage users to spend a lot of time on the site and visit regularly.
2. They make money from the businesses that appear on Yelp! by selling them a variety of services at a range of prices that allow businesses to determine to a significant degree how their page appears.
It should be noted that Yelp! makes no claims to change the orders of user reviews for advertisers other than to allow the advertiser to select which review appears first. This is contradicted by numerous anecdotal claims by business owners, some of which are catalogued in the Register article linked to above.
But here's the conflict, businesses get pissed off about inaccurate/misleading/vindictive reviews, but Yelp! doesn't want to do anything about it since they don't want to alienate their users. This in turn alienates the businesses who then don't want to advertise. You see, why would you advertise on Yelp! if you have all positive reviews? Alternately, why would you give Yelp! money if you see it as an unregulated venue for malicious pricks with no real understanding of your business?
Thusly, why would any business give Yelp! money?
Enter the "rogue salespersons" who decide to target businesses that have received recent negative reviews (greatly streamlining their saleswork) and offer to push the negative reviews to the bottom. There are still no reports of negative reviews being removed, the terminology used in most articles is "deemphasized" or "suppressed."
Essentially the only way Yelp! can secure their second revenue stream is through either ignorance (rarely is there a restaurant of any particular esteem that has bought Yelp! advertising) and increasingly, extortion.
Businesses need to know that very few people actually make decisions based on viewing Yelp! It's basically a glorified phone book, especially outside of the SF Bay Area. Citysearch and Metromix are much simpler guides for the basics and also have their own editorial content.
Yelp! is exploiting the excitement/anxiety/fear/hype over "Web 2.0" to get money from businesses who might not be particularly well-versed in how the internet works. They might not know that 50,000 hits on a website doesn't mean 50,000 people will visit your restaurant. In most cases it doesn't mean 50 people will visit your restaurant.
So here we have for the first time my codified anti-Yelp! credo. Adopt it and help to bring an end to perhaps the shadiest major site on the internet.
1. Do not use Yelp! for any legitimate purpose. If you want to read it for research or to make fun of Yelp!ers then please do, but don't ever decide whether you'll visit a business or not because of Yelp! reviews either solely or in part.
2. Do not visit a business that has sponsored Yelp! They're collaborateurs. This should be surprisingly easy since as I mentioned before very few esteemed businesses sponsor Yelp!
3. Suggest that businesses remove their "People Love Us On Yelp!" stickers. Tell them that there's a growing group of disgruntled foodies who are starting to see this as a negative indicator. Kinda like the Hobo Code for "dishonest man lives here."
4. Always include the exclamation mark when writing about Yelp! I just think it makes Yelp! and Yelp!ers look silly.
Who's with me?
Monday, August 18, 2008
There's No Good Bread in LA
If any of you read the title of this post and immediately got "To Live and Die in LA" stuck in your head, high fives all around.
Those of you who know me know that I'm not a big bread guy. It's not that I'm anti-carb or anything like that. I just find bread, most of the time, to be utterly pointless. Bread is largely empty calories, full of starch and low-quality protein. I put all my sandwiches on various Trader Joe's high-fiber, high-protein breads because, hey, you need some bread on your sandwich and it might as well be doing something for you.
So it may surprise some to hear me say that I miss bread. I miss Acme. I miss Metropolis. Hell, I even miss Semifreddi's. Bread is not held in the same esteem in LA that it is in SF and Berkeley.
But it's not for a lack of there being bread. The zero-carb craze is over and moderate carb consumption is back in. Sandwiches are big right now. Burgers too. Yet even the $16 Berkshire pork burger at BLD was sandwiched between a dry flavorless (though not inexpensive) bun.
The same with Father's Office's esteemed burger, which is stuffed between what looks like a Costco-caliber French roll.
And as much as I enjoyed my drop-in at Sheddy's, the sliced baguette that came with my cheese and charcuterie plate was stale.
Bread's something that served the very useful roll of providing a lot of inexpensive calories. It's the Western world's rice. Which also is to say that we don't really need it any more in the developed world. So if I am going to eat what is essentially unnecessary calories, it'd better make itself necessary and add to the dish.
There's a fear at restaurants here I think to do what needs to be done to all sandwich bread, namely slather it in butter/oil and throw it under the salamander. This makes bread much better on a sandwich. Failing that, you should at least smother your roll in a nice fatty spread of some kind: aioli, remoulade, whatever. Bread's purpose is to absorb. Sure bread absorbs liquid fine, but it absorbs fat awesomely. Don't be afraid of fat. Throw it on there. Just eat less overall. I get at least half my calories from fat and I'm 5'8" and 145 if I'm lucky.
My Berkshire pork burger at BLD would've been even better if there had been an awesome aioli or spicy remoulade smothering that shit. It also would've been better without the thin-cut fries. Seems like a good idea until you realize that they go cold in about 30 seconds. The pickles were phenomenal.
Basic rules about bread:
1. Bread is delivered FRESH every day. Bread should be made in a bakery. If your restaurant does not have an actual bakery as part of its operation, you should buy your bread from a bakery.
2. Bread should not be used a second day for any fresh purpose. Those fresh purposes are primarily sandwich buns, cheese plates, and table bread. Luckily, old bread can be used for croutons, bread salad, bread pudding, bread and broccoli, and much other awesomeness.
3. When in doubt, skip it. Seriously, you don't need the bread. I eat cheese by itself all the time.
Am I missing something? Where is the Acme of Los Angeles? I'm told it's La Brea Bakery, but they sell par-baked bread for restaurants to finish off themselves. Why would you do that? You don't pay a Thai masseuse to get you 80% of the way there and then you have to finish off yourself, so why pay your baker if he or she's not going to get the job done? I want the firm hand of a specialist involved from initial mixing all the way to the money shot.
Customers who want "warm bread" served at the table are ignorant petite bourgeoisie with no understanding of how bread works.
Please please please, if you know a good bakery in LA, let me know. And I mean a bakery that bakes bread. White bread. Levain. Whole wheat bread. Baguettes. Rolls. Real, honest bread.
Those of you who know me know that I'm not a big bread guy. It's not that I'm anti-carb or anything like that. I just find bread, most of the time, to be utterly pointless. Bread is largely empty calories, full of starch and low-quality protein. I put all my sandwiches on various Trader Joe's high-fiber, high-protein breads because, hey, you need some bread on your sandwich and it might as well be doing something for you.
So it may surprise some to hear me say that I miss bread. I miss Acme. I miss Metropolis. Hell, I even miss Semifreddi's. Bread is not held in the same esteem in LA that it is in SF and Berkeley.
But it's not for a lack of there being bread. The zero-carb craze is over and moderate carb consumption is back in. Sandwiches are big right now. Burgers too. Yet even the $16 Berkshire pork burger at BLD was sandwiched between a dry flavorless (though not inexpensive) bun.
The same with Father's Office's esteemed burger, which is stuffed between what looks like a Costco-caliber French roll.
And as much as I enjoyed my drop-in at Sheddy's, the sliced baguette that came with my cheese and charcuterie plate was stale.
Bread's something that served the very useful roll of providing a lot of inexpensive calories. It's the Western world's rice. Which also is to say that we don't really need it any more in the developed world. So if I am going to eat what is essentially unnecessary calories, it'd better make itself necessary and add to the dish.
There's a fear at restaurants here I think to do what needs to be done to all sandwich bread, namely slather it in butter/oil and throw it under the salamander. This makes bread much better on a sandwich. Failing that, you should at least smother your roll in a nice fatty spread of some kind: aioli, remoulade, whatever. Bread's purpose is to absorb. Sure bread absorbs liquid fine, but it absorbs fat awesomely. Don't be afraid of fat. Throw it on there. Just eat less overall. I get at least half my calories from fat and I'm 5'8" and 145 if I'm lucky.
My Berkshire pork burger at BLD would've been even better if there had been an awesome aioli or spicy remoulade smothering that shit. It also would've been better without the thin-cut fries. Seems like a good idea until you realize that they go cold in about 30 seconds. The pickles were phenomenal.
Basic rules about bread:
1. Bread is delivered FRESH every day. Bread should be made in a bakery. If your restaurant does not have an actual bakery as part of its operation, you should buy your bread from a bakery.
2. Bread should not be used a second day for any fresh purpose. Those fresh purposes are primarily sandwich buns, cheese plates, and table bread. Luckily, old bread can be used for croutons, bread salad, bread pudding, bread and broccoli, and much other awesomeness.
3. When in doubt, skip it. Seriously, you don't need the bread. I eat cheese by itself all the time.
Am I missing something? Where is the Acme of Los Angeles? I'm told it's La Brea Bakery, but they sell par-baked bread for restaurants to finish off themselves. Why would you do that? You don't pay a Thai masseuse to get you 80% of the way there and then you have to finish off yourself, so why pay your baker if he or she's not going to get the job done? I want the firm hand of a specialist involved from initial mixing all the way to the money shot.
Customers who want "warm bread" served at the table are ignorant petite bourgeoisie with no understanding of how bread works.
Please please please, if you know a good bakery in LA, let me know. And I mean a bakery that bakes bread. White bread. Levain. Whole wheat bread. Baguettes. Rolls. Real, honest bread.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
I Don't Want To Go Here
I don't care if Tapas and Wine Bar C is revealed to be the next French Laundry (unlikely), nothing except for morbid curiosity at the ill-conceived c-f that it probably is will ever get me to set foot in it.
From its ".biz" domain address, ramblingly pretentious website copy, predictably precious French maid costume-bedecked servers, and rectal prolapsingly-obvious wine list, Bar C represents that certain segment of Los Angeles: the ignorantly elitist, faux-riche, consumer monkeys.
I'm sure I've mentioned this before: Beverly Hills has the LOWEST per-capita income of any city in the country with a population over 10,000 people and a median home price over $1M. Everyone lives beyond their means and acts wealthier than they are.
But first, the actual text from Bar C's home page:
As one of the few theme bars in La we offer a wide and varied selection of wine and liquor as well as beer for the less discerning. In addition to this our cuisine is prepared by one of LA's finestest chefs. Fred Iwaski with thirty years experience at some of the most renown establishments such as Spago's, Chinos and Highland Grounds. Elegant decorum defines from a modern swanky atmosphere to attractive hostesses filled as French maids, we cater to any client looking for a night alone, with friends or business partners. Only to accentuate this all ready sensory overwhelming is highly attentive service.
I'll refrain from caring too much about the many many errors in grammar, spelling, syntax, and rampant Engrish. These are forgivable. Although I would like to know what goes into filling attractive hostesses as French maids. How do I get in on that action? What is not forgivable, however, is the ignorance and arrogance proclaimed herein.
One of the few theme bars in LA? Have you been to LA recently, or do you live in a bomb shelter directly underneath Bar C and only surface at night, never to leave the premises? This is an entire city of theme bars.
Beer for the less discerning? Why are you insulting your customers? If you're going to offer beer for your customers, making them feel like a slob because they don't want to drink vodka or boring wine from your boring wine list is not the best strategy.
Speaking of boring wine list....
For those of you who didn't click on that link, it's basically two pages of wines that even your grandmother would recgonize. It's all big, expensive, name-label California and French Wines for people with more money than sense, or really more debt than intelligence. The cheapest wines are also $12 a glass ($60/bottle). And that's for Chalone and Acacia pinots noir, wines that are readily available at your neighborhood BevMo for $18.99 ($12.99 ClubBev!).
For those of you keeping score at home, that's roughly a SIX TIMES WHOLESALE markup. If you're doing that you'd better be a hotel on Sunset or not selling wines you can buy at BevMo.
And where might this altar to conspicuous consumption and poseur decadence be located? Surely it must be in Beverly Hills or West Hollywood? No? Malibu? Hardly. Well SOMEWHERE in Hollywood or the Westside, right? Nah, it's in Little Tokyo.
Which come to think of it makes a sick sort of sense.
Have you ever met somebody who's actually fabulously wealthy? That is to say, born into privilege, never really needing anything? These people don't buy gold Rolexes and Chateau Margaux Bordeaux, they've probably inherited a weathered Cartier from their grandfather and their family has a cellar of wines from Chateaux that don't even exist any more.
And they sure as hell don't go to Bar C.
If you want to fulfill your Asian chicks in maid outfits fetish, go to Royal/T in Culver City and spend less money and feel a helluva lot classier. If you want to chat with flirty scantily-clad women, go to Jumbo's Clown Room in Hollywood. And if you need more than that, go to the Body Shop, where a topless lap dance will still set you back less than the $30/person minimum at Bar C.
From its ".biz" domain address, ramblingly pretentious website copy, predictably precious French maid costume-bedecked servers, and rectal prolapsingly-obvious wine list, Bar C represents that certain segment of Los Angeles: the ignorantly elitist, faux-riche, consumer monkeys.
I'm sure I've mentioned this before: Beverly Hills has the LOWEST per-capita income of any city in the country with a population over 10,000 people and a median home price over $1M. Everyone lives beyond their means and acts wealthier than they are.
But first, the actual text from Bar C's home page:
As one of the few theme bars in La we offer a wide and varied selection of wine and liquor as well as beer for the less discerning. In addition to this our cuisine is prepared by one of LA's finestest chefs. Fred Iwaski with thirty years experience at some of the most renown establishments such as Spago's, Chinos and Highland Grounds. Elegant decorum defines from a modern swanky atmosphere to attractive hostesses filled as French maids, we cater to any client looking for a night alone, with friends or business partners. Only to accentuate this all ready sensory overwhelming is highly attentive service.
I'll refrain from caring too much about the many many errors in grammar, spelling, syntax, and rampant Engrish. These are forgivable. Although I would like to know what goes into filling attractive hostesses as French maids. How do I get in on that action? What is not forgivable, however, is the ignorance and arrogance proclaimed herein.
One of the few theme bars in LA? Have you been to LA recently, or do you live in a bomb shelter directly underneath Bar C and only surface at night, never to leave the premises? This is an entire city of theme bars.
Beer for the less discerning? Why are you insulting your customers? If you're going to offer beer for your customers, making them feel like a slob because they don't want to drink vodka or boring wine from your boring wine list is not the best strategy.
Speaking of boring wine list....
For those of you who didn't click on that link, it's basically two pages of wines that even your grandmother would recgonize. It's all big, expensive, name-label California and French Wines for people with more money than sense, or really more debt than intelligence. The cheapest wines are also $12 a glass ($60/bottle). And that's for Chalone and Acacia pinots noir, wines that are readily available at your neighborhood BevMo for $18.99 ($12.99 ClubBev!).
For those of you keeping score at home, that's roughly a SIX TIMES WHOLESALE markup. If you're doing that you'd better be a hotel on Sunset or not selling wines you can buy at BevMo.
And where might this altar to conspicuous consumption and poseur decadence be located? Surely it must be in Beverly Hills or West Hollywood? No? Malibu? Hardly. Well SOMEWHERE in Hollywood or the Westside, right? Nah, it's in Little Tokyo.
Which come to think of it makes a sick sort of sense.
Have you ever met somebody who's actually fabulously wealthy? That is to say, born into privilege, never really needing anything? These people don't buy gold Rolexes and Chateau Margaux Bordeaux, they've probably inherited a weathered Cartier from their grandfather and their family has a cellar of wines from Chateaux that don't even exist any more.
And they sure as hell don't go to Bar C.
If you want to fulfill your Asian chicks in maid outfits fetish, go to Royal/T in Culver City and spend less money and feel a helluva lot classier. If you want to chat with flirty scantily-clad women, go to Jumbo's Clown Room in Hollywood. And if you need more than that, go to the Body Shop, where a topless lap dance will still set you back less than the $30/person minimum at Bar C.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
HFF Quickie: Sheddy's - Los Angeles, Ca
What gets people to go into a restaurant or bar?
With the notable exception of "being in a very well-traveled area with a more-or-less captive audience," the answer to that question is one nobody knows and everybody thinks they know. And even being in a well-traveled area is no guarantee as well-traveled areas have higher rents and thus a lower threshold for inadequacy.
A successful bar is lightning striking in a bottle, even if you do everything right.
Sheddy's, a new beer and wine bar on Fairfax Avenue (near 3rd) is doing everything right. So maybe I can get some people in there.
Taking over an ill-fated tapas restaurant, Sheddy's is a very scaled-back affair. It still focuses almost exclusively on Spanish wines, but also serves three quality beers on draft (Murphy's, Abita, and Maudite). Most notably, Sheddy's serves a mix-and-match cheese and charcuterie plate in lieu of any more elaborate cuisine.
I say that's a good thing. Though when I went in they were out of almost everything. They still cobbled together a solid cheese plate.
The space is relaxed and cozy, with a lot of wood, cushions, and tables. It's convivial and neighborhood-y. Music is mellow and hip. It's the perfect place to go out with friends for some drinks. And, unless she's a stupid ho, if you take a date here I'd say you're 99% likely to seal the deal. You'll seem attentive, smart, and erudite. What more do you want?
Sheddy's is just in a tough spot. It's in a "drive-through" section of LA, just far enough from population and commerce centers to present an interesting predicament. That being said, it is a block from the WGA-West offices and a few more blocks from CBS TV Studios, which presents a lot of corporate and after-work possibilities. Most of these people probably live north and east of Sheddy's however, making that small track west that much trickier.
It really is the perfect place. Good wine. Great beer. Great cheese plate. Friendly service. Fair prices. Back patio that's very smoker-friendly.
Go to Sheddy's. Do it now.
Sheddy's
361 S. Fairfax Ave.
Los Angeles, Ca 90036
323-651-1442
With the notable exception of "being in a very well-traveled area with a more-or-less captive audience," the answer to that question is one nobody knows and everybody thinks they know. And even being in a well-traveled area is no guarantee as well-traveled areas have higher rents and thus a lower threshold for inadequacy.
A successful bar is lightning striking in a bottle, even if you do everything right.
Sheddy's, a new beer and wine bar on Fairfax Avenue (near 3rd) is doing everything right. So maybe I can get some people in there.
Taking over an ill-fated tapas restaurant, Sheddy's is a very scaled-back affair. It still focuses almost exclusively on Spanish wines, but also serves three quality beers on draft (Murphy's, Abita, and Maudite). Most notably, Sheddy's serves a mix-and-match cheese and charcuterie plate in lieu of any more elaborate cuisine.
I say that's a good thing. Though when I went in they were out of almost everything. They still cobbled together a solid cheese plate.
The space is relaxed and cozy, with a lot of wood, cushions, and tables. It's convivial and neighborhood-y. Music is mellow and hip. It's the perfect place to go out with friends for some drinks. And, unless she's a stupid ho, if you take a date here I'd say you're 99% likely to seal the deal. You'll seem attentive, smart, and erudite. What more do you want?
Sheddy's is just in a tough spot. It's in a "drive-through" section of LA, just far enough from population and commerce centers to present an interesting predicament. That being said, it is a block from the WGA-West offices and a few more blocks from CBS TV Studios, which presents a lot of corporate and after-work possibilities. Most of these people probably live north and east of Sheddy's however, making that small track west that much trickier.
It really is the perfect place. Good wine. Great beer. Great cheese plate. Friendly service. Fair prices. Back patio that's very smoker-friendly.
Go to Sheddy's. Do it now.
Sheddy's
361 S. Fairfax Ave.
Los Angeles, Ca 90036
323-651-1442
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
HFF Quickie: Red Lion Tavern
I've found my first place in LA that fills that crucial "relatively inexpensive laid-back place with good food" void.
Red Lion Tavern on Glendale Blvd. in Silver Lake is freakin' great. It's on a fairly low-density stretch of road (though conveniently across the street from Silverlake Wine and adjacent to Panty Raid), so parking's pretty easy, at least for lunch. There's also an excitingly dangerous parking lot adjacent to the Tavern.
The place is kinda like Hooters only instead of being served by vaguely hot young women with perky breasts, you're served by those same women twenty years later, sans perk. And they're German. Plus, instead of wings, you get several kinds of sausage.
Yeah you do.
The food is solid. Besides the aforementioned wursts (which come on a plate with mashed potatoes and warm sauerkraut), you can get all the other great German pub food standards. The schweinebraten is tender and tasty (the accompanying warm red cabbage is the best thing ever). The schnitzels looks good, as do the simple fish dishes.
And sure the food doesn't have the best quality ingredients and the place is a little dirty, but who cares when you're paying $10 for a well-rounded plate of tasty food? Add a half-liter of beer from the very solid selection of quality German draughts and you have the best $20 lunch in town. Skip the creepy dark bar on the ground floor and head upstairs to the biergarten for some serious al fresco dining.
But if you do dine on the patio, cover your beer with a coaster. You'll see why.
Prost!
Red Lion Tavern
2366 Glendale Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90039
323-662-5337
Red Lion Tavern on Glendale Blvd. in Silver Lake is freakin' great. It's on a fairly low-density stretch of road (though conveniently across the street from Silverlake Wine and adjacent to Panty Raid), so parking's pretty easy, at least for lunch. There's also an excitingly dangerous parking lot adjacent to the Tavern.
The place is kinda like Hooters only instead of being served by vaguely hot young women with perky breasts, you're served by those same women twenty years later, sans perk. And they're German. Plus, instead of wings, you get several kinds of sausage.
Yeah you do.
The food is solid. Besides the aforementioned wursts (which come on a plate with mashed potatoes and warm sauerkraut), you can get all the other great German pub food standards. The schweinebraten is tender and tasty (the accompanying warm red cabbage is the best thing ever). The schnitzels looks good, as do the simple fish dishes.
And sure the food doesn't have the best quality ingredients and the place is a little dirty, but who cares when you're paying $10 for a well-rounded plate of tasty food? Add a half-liter of beer from the very solid selection of quality German draughts and you have the best $20 lunch in town. Skip the creepy dark bar on the ground floor and head upstairs to the biergarten for some serious al fresco dining.
But if you do dine on the patio, cover your beer with a coaster. You'll see why.
Prost!
Red Lion Tavern
2366 Glendale Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90039
323-662-5337
Thursday, July 31, 2008
4th Street Bistro - Reno, NV
I'm going to say I've never thought to write about a restaurant in Nevada before. I still don't think to write about it, because let's face it Nevada is about as shitty of a shitfest that a Supreme Being or Science ever shat out onto this planet. And I've driven through the whole crappy state.
That does include Las Vegas. Just because every muscular celebrity chef rock star has stuck his dick in it doesn't make it a good place to be (c.f. Pamela Anderson). Las Vegas is a culinary destination in the same way that Heidi Klum is attractive.
It's (she's) not. It (she) just offers a creepy and overly made-up version of something you can find on any street corner in a major metropolis. Especially the corner of Highland & Santa Monica.
That being said, every now and then you'll catch Heidi on a good day and you'll actually remember why you briefly masturbated to her in the late 90's.
Point being, there might actually be a good restaurant in Nevada. And that restaurant is 4th Street Bistro in Reno.
In this instance, a restaurant might actually be benefiting from its pissbucket location in the armpit outskirts of Reno. In another part of the country its fresh, seasonal, and expertly cooked cuisine would blend in on the block with the various contenders and pretenders to the Cal-Cuisine throne. But in Reno, a city known best for bunny ranches and second-rate casinos (I mean really, the Silver Legacy?), 4th Street Bistro stands out as sharply and distinctly as Klum's prominently augmented breasts.
I was picked up at the Reno Airport by the extended family for a sojourn in South Lake Tahoe. Not wanting to have driven all over to the lame side of the lake for no reason, we decided to enjoy what fine dining Washoe County has to offer.
Was 4th Street Bistro great? Hardly. Was it good? Absolutely. Really freakin' tasty actually. A survey of the menu and a survey of the farmhouse-chic dining room and you just might think you're in Rivoli or Chez Panisse Cafe. 4th Street Bistro features all the heavy hitters, including "Liberty" duck, Niman Ranch beef, pork, and lamb, and "Heavenly Organics" mushrooms. The wine list is predictable but solid and the service is amateurish and overly-trained, but very friendly.
I started with an appetizer of pork belly on a bed of caramelized peaches and some vegetables or something. It was tasty, but the piece of pork belly was about the size of my thumb. And my thumbs are pretty small. Still, it was good.
Entree was a duck confit salad. This was also solid. The confit leg was as well prepared as any I've had. Crisp skin, juicy fat, and moist meat. The accompanying wilted salad was tasty and complimentary. The only fault was too much of an overly-vinegary dressing. And that's not really a fault, just a matter of taste.
Good, solid, tasty food. It's very well made and uses some of the best ingredients around. Without knowing too much, I'd say it's the last really good restaurant before you hit Denver (with the notable exception of Sweet Melissa's Vegetarian Cafe in Laramie).
Check it out when you're up in the mountains. Or, rather, when you leave the beautiful majesty of the mountains for the barren, sprawling, empty empty desert plain that is the great state of Nevada.
4th Street Bistro
3065 West 4th St.
Reno, NV 89523
775-323-3200
www.4thstbistro.com
That does include Las Vegas. Just because every muscular celebrity chef rock star has stuck his dick in it doesn't make it a good place to be (c.f. Pamela Anderson). Las Vegas is a culinary destination in the same way that Heidi Klum is attractive.
It's (she's) not. It (she) just offers a creepy and overly made-up version of something you can find on any street corner in a major metropolis. Especially the corner of Highland & Santa Monica.
That being said, every now and then you'll catch Heidi on a good day and you'll actually remember why you briefly masturbated to her in the late 90's.
Point being, there might actually be a good restaurant in Nevada. And that restaurant is 4th Street Bistro in Reno.
In this instance, a restaurant might actually be benefiting from its pissbucket location in the armpit outskirts of Reno. In another part of the country its fresh, seasonal, and expertly cooked cuisine would blend in on the block with the various contenders and pretenders to the Cal-Cuisine throne. But in Reno, a city known best for bunny ranches and second-rate casinos (I mean really, the Silver Legacy?), 4th Street Bistro stands out as sharply and distinctly as Klum's prominently augmented breasts.
I was picked up at the Reno Airport by the extended family for a sojourn in South Lake Tahoe. Not wanting to have driven all over to the lame side of the lake for no reason, we decided to enjoy what fine dining Washoe County has to offer.
Was 4th Street Bistro great? Hardly. Was it good? Absolutely. Really freakin' tasty actually. A survey of the menu and a survey of the farmhouse-chic dining room and you just might think you're in Rivoli or Chez Panisse Cafe. 4th Street Bistro features all the heavy hitters, including "Liberty" duck, Niman Ranch beef, pork, and lamb, and "Heavenly Organics" mushrooms. The wine list is predictable but solid and the service is amateurish and overly-trained, but very friendly.
I started with an appetizer of pork belly on a bed of caramelized peaches and some vegetables or something. It was tasty, but the piece of pork belly was about the size of my thumb. And my thumbs are pretty small. Still, it was good.
Entree was a duck confit salad. This was also solid. The confit leg was as well prepared as any I've had. Crisp skin, juicy fat, and moist meat. The accompanying wilted salad was tasty and complimentary. The only fault was too much of an overly-vinegary dressing. And that's not really a fault, just a matter of taste.
Good, solid, tasty food. It's very well made and uses some of the best ingredients around. Without knowing too much, I'd say it's the last really good restaurant before you hit Denver (with the notable exception of Sweet Melissa's Vegetarian Cafe in Laramie).
Check it out when you're up in the mountains. Or, rather, when you leave the beautiful majesty of the mountains for the barren, sprawling, empty empty desert plain that is the great state of Nevada.
4th Street Bistro
3065 West 4th St.
Reno, NV 89523
775-323-3200
www.4thstbistro.com
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Downtown Culver City: The Good, the Bad, and the Sterile
When I moved to Palms I didn't realize that I'd be moving two blocks away from the giant Disneyland of restaurants that is downtown Culver City.
After exploring quite a few of them I've found a couple gems and a couple duds, but mostly I'm left with the impression of general sterility all around.
Some thoughts on "the Good:"
Ford's Filling Station - I think this is the best of the bunch. Ford's has innovative pork-centric cuisine with a nice clear theme. The space is well done without feeling too over-conceived. Avoid the pricier entrees and share a bunch of smaller plates, charcuterie, and flatbreads with your friends.
Bottle Rock - Stellar wine selection and good simple food makes up for high by the glass prices and friendly but inattentive service.
Ugo Wine Bar - A new direction and a committed young wine buyer have kept things moving here at this Enomatic-driven wine bar. Great happy hour with complimentary salumi. Call me old-fashioned but I still prefer sitting at the bar and having a glass of wine over machine-dispensed one ounce tastes, but it's a good spot to take friends.
S&W Country Diner - Heavy, hearty, and harried service. Great farm-style breakfasts in the heart of studio country. Pretty damn inexpensive too.
And on to "the Bad:"
Akasha - The epitome of over conceived. Nice space but too much going on and the food, while good, doesn't live up to the competition at that price range. Sit at the bar, have an organic pilsner, and enjoy a beautiful space.
Starbucks - I don't have anything against it (except for that guy in shorts, torn white t-shirt, and headphones mumbling to himself while rocking back and forth in a chair for a half-hour) and in fact go here a whole lot. I just don't like that it's the only coffee shop in downtown, unless you want to be trampled by toddlers out with mommy at Akasha's attached cafe. They're screaming for a Peet's.
Pacifico's Mariscos - I'm not one to pay much attention to health inspector letters, but Pacifico's definitely earned its "B." Besides shitty produce and bizarrely executed dishes, they also do that weird "hey let's have a sushi bar too even though we're ostensibly a Mexican place" thing. Bad service. Bad food (except for the fish tacos, which were great). Just bad.
Taqueria La Ballona - You know, maybe I just wasn't in the right mindset, but I was left feeling dirty and violated after eating my chimichanga.
My big complaint with Downtown Culver City overall is every place (except for Pacifico's and La Ballona) feels very clean, sterile, and high-concept. I sort of feel like every restaurant is a Cheesecake Factory or something in Downtown Disney or the Universal City Walk. This is unfortunate because they are largely independent restaurants with excellent food and excellent chefs. I just don't really feel welcomed or at home in any of these restaurants and they all lack any distinctive character.
I don't think this is a Los Angeles-wide problem. Lucques is warm and inviting. So are Grace and BLD. I like Father's Office quite a bit, also Vinoteque and Bar Pintxo. Even Robata Grill, part of the Sushi Roku family, has more character than most of the restaurants in Downtown Culver City.
I know this is entirely subjective and probably largely unfair of me. I'm just trying to figure this out.
Maybe it's because this is an entire strip of restaurants that largely date from after the explosion of the Celebrity Chef era? A time where selling a concept was more important than selling a product, even at the highest echelon of restaurant? It's not one or two spots in a neighborhood with many older restaurants, it's a place where new restaurants are popping up monthly and there are still empty storefronts.
I associate being sold a bill-of-goods with chain restaurants like Hard Rock Cafe, not quality independent ingredient-driven restaurants, so it's an odd juxtaposition.
After exploring quite a few of them I've found a couple gems and a couple duds, but mostly I'm left with the impression of general sterility all around.
Some thoughts on "the Good:"
Ford's Filling Station - I think this is the best of the bunch. Ford's has innovative pork-centric cuisine with a nice clear theme. The space is well done without feeling too over-conceived. Avoid the pricier entrees and share a bunch of smaller plates, charcuterie, and flatbreads with your friends.
Bottle Rock - Stellar wine selection and good simple food makes up for high by the glass prices and friendly but inattentive service.
Ugo Wine Bar - A new direction and a committed young wine buyer have kept things moving here at this Enomatic-driven wine bar. Great happy hour with complimentary salumi. Call me old-fashioned but I still prefer sitting at the bar and having a glass of wine over machine-dispensed one ounce tastes, but it's a good spot to take friends.
S&W Country Diner - Heavy, hearty, and harried service. Great farm-style breakfasts in the heart of studio country. Pretty damn inexpensive too.
And on to "the Bad:"
Akasha - The epitome of over conceived. Nice space but too much going on and the food, while good, doesn't live up to the competition at that price range. Sit at the bar, have an organic pilsner, and enjoy a beautiful space.
Starbucks - I don't have anything against it (except for that guy in shorts, torn white t-shirt, and headphones mumbling to himself while rocking back and forth in a chair for a half-hour) and in fact go here a whole lot. I just don't like that it's the only coffee shop in downtown, unless you want to be trampled by toddlers out with mommy at Akasha's attached cafe. They're screaming for a Peet's.
Pacifico's Mariscos - I'm not one to pay much attention to health inspector letters, but Pacifico's definitely earned its "B." Besides shitty produce and bizarrely executed dishes, they also do that weird "hey let's have a sushi bar too even though we're ostensibly a Mexican place" thing. Bad service. Bad food (except for the fish tacos, which were great). Just bad.
Taqueria La Ballona - You know, maybe I just wasn't in the right mindset, but I was left feeling dirty and violated after eating my chimichanga.
My big complaint with Downtown Culver City overall is every place (except for Pacifico's and La Ballona) feels very clean, sterile, and high-concept. I sort of feel like every restaurant is a Cheesecake Factory or something in Downtown Disney or the Universal City Walk. This is unfortunate because they are largely independent restaurants with excellent food and excellent chefs. I just don't really feel welcomed or at home in any of these restaurants and they all lack any distinctive character.
I don't think this is a Los Angeles-wide problem. Lucques is warm and inviting. So are Grace and BLD. I like Father's Office quite a bit, also Vinoteque and Bar Pintxo. Even Robata Grill, part of the Sushi Roku family, has more character than most of the restaurants in Downtown Culver City.
I know this is entirely subjective and probably largely unfair of me. I'm just trying to figure this out.
Maybe it's because this is an entire strip of restaurants that largely date from after the explosion of the Celebrity Chef era? A time where selling a concept was more important than selling a product, even at the highest echelon of restaurant? It's not one or two spots in a neighborhood with many older restaurants, it's a place where new restaurants are popping up monthly and there are still empty storefronts.
I associate being sold a bill-of-goods with chain restaurants like Hard Rock Cafe, not quality independent ingredient-driven restaurants, so it's an odd juxtaposition.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Not About Food - A Digression Wherein the Protagonist Ruminates on Life
My room is frequently darkened. The reason for this is threefold:
1. I'm usually at my computer in the morning and that coupled with a south-facing window allows for only modest direct sunlight seeping between the uniquely Los Angeleno slat-blinds.
2. Despite the very prominent presence of a light switch on my wall it does not actually activate any outlets and my lighting is provided by three smaller lamps spread out throughout my room. And I don't like desk lamps during the day time.
3. I'm usually at my computer sparsely dressed and this area being dense with multi-family housing a couple buildings look directly into my room. At best I'm an ambivalent exhibitionist inasmuch as I don't particularly care if I am seen in moderately compromising states, but I don't want to actively solicit onlookers.
A darkened room, I'm shirtless in gym shorts, and I'm listening to the most recent Two Gallants album (it's called "Two Gallants). This album has been growing on me with repeated listens. I wasn't too keen on it at first as it's rather mellow and lo-fi and lacks much of the harder punk-y edge of "What the Toll Tells." But the emotions are honest, the stories are pathos-riddled, and they put out a shit tonne of quality sound for a couple skinny white guys from San Francisco.
And Pitchfork and Prefix deserve cockslaps for their missing-the-point reviews of "What the Toll Tells" in which they're critical of the song "Long Summer's Day" for "borrowing otherness" because it's told from the perspective of a black sharecropper. This is what happens when you let cultural anthropologists become music critics.
Helluva live show too.
I've been called an asshole numerous times. I've been called mean. Arrogant. A dick. Sarcastic. I've been criticized for not caring about the feelings of others (unfair, I think). People who care about their feelings being cared for are rather selfish people, no? I'm told I don't admit when I'm wrong. This might be true, but could it be that I'm just not wrong very often?
I've made a lot of mistakes and I have been uncharitable to a lot of people. I think that that part of my personality has mellowed with age, as all things should, in the same way that we move from ketchup to mustard on our hot dogs and we begin embracing more complex flavors like the bitter fresh spiciness of wild arugula or the gooey stink of a nice ripe cheese.
As most long-time wine tasters eventually leave behind big and spicy reds and rediscover the elegance and nuance of whites. This is a clear indicator that Robert Parker (and most of the wine establishment) have palates that are still stuck in late adolescence.
I'm still as passionate, opinionated, and driven as I was before. I'm just more intelligent and (hopefully) nicer about it.
But back to the point. It's dark. I'm shirtless. There's indie lo-fi folk rock on the Altec Lansing inMotion. And I have a profound sadness deep in my chest. That sort of cosmic sob that never quite wells into tears but really should.
I don't know if this is that "fear and loathing" I've heard so much about. It might be angst. It's not existential ennui since it moves me to action instead of inaction. Maybe it's nausea. In the Jean-Paul Sartre sense.
Why am I being brought to near-tears by Wikipedia accounts of the 1992 L.A. riots? The unnamed black reverend who stopped rioters from cutting off the (rest of the) ear of a Guatemalan immigrant and drove him to the hospital is a more important hero than the man who stood in front of tanks in Tienanmen. He didn't care about making a statement or swapping symbolic acts. He cared about saving one stranger's life.
Why do I feel a profound sadness when I hear a woman talking seriously about why she prefers Pepsi to Coke?
Why do we latch on to insignificant loyalties like to which diabetes purveyor we throw our money?
My entire body aches whenever I hear somebody say "I don't know anything about that" in that smug or just dismissive way as if there are somehow things worth knowing about and things nor worth knowing about. That knowing about the falling out between Mussorgsky and Rimsky-Korsakov is more valuable than knowing about the feud between Eazy-E and Dr. Dre. That sitting in a room and reading Hegel in the original German is a more worthwhile pursuit than playing CounterStrike. It's all equally valuable and by that I mean all equally meaningless.
If you can find something to commit yourself to and be passionate about, that's the most beautiful and most human thing in the world. Anything that allows you to challenge yourself and drive your curiosity.
I don't like not knowing about things. If I don't know about something I try to find out as much as I can about it. Even if it's things that I'll never be able to do, like solve theoretical math equations or have a g-spot orgasm, I still like to know how they work. It's useful. It lets you talk to scientists or women and not sound like a clueless dweeb.
I experience vitriolic anger when I hear somebody say "the internet's going social." These are mostly paunchy middle-aged men who will never get it since they weren't the ones sharing info across the world on Usenet boards in the 80's or organizing their entire life via IM as soon as their parents bought a modem.
As if we haven't always been discovering new ways to interact with each other since nomadic human tribes first settled down into towns and cities.
And the work of art that has inspired my strongest emotional reaction that I can think of in recent memory? WALL-E. Until the humans got involved, then it got a little bit Disney-ish for my tastes.
WALL-E is curiosity robo-personified. And it's his simple curiosity about a tiny plant and a sexy collection robot that ultimately saves Earth.
I suppose I should have said "spoiler alert" before that.
The scene of the "deranged" penguin running off into the interior of Antarctica to die instead of to the sea or to the colony in Werner Herzog's "Encounters at the End of the World" was also rather heartrending. He just wants to know what else is out there. Isn't discovery, even in the face of death, preferable to doing the same thing you've always done? He might've been eaten by a seal on that very trip to get fish had he not gone running alone into the hills.
I become very sad when I see people living in fear of the array of information, opportunity, and experience that is available. I'm sad when I see the powers that be in the entertainment industry keep banging their heads against the same wall trying to make a business model work that hasn't worked well since we first got cable television and VCRs.
I like the term "don't try to reinvent the wheel" as if we haven't been coming out with new and better wheels all the time for thousands of years. Sure the basic function is the same, but a 22-inch alloy rim with spinners is markedly different from a solid disc of wood hewn from an oak tree.
I'm upset at knowing that we go from the intellectual, emotional, and physical orgy that is college and into a life where most of us will be increasingly obsolete desk functionaries doing tasks that we haven't yet found a way to automate.
I try to live my life as actively as possible. If you don't try it's amazing how passive it can get. It's very easy to let hour after hour of television or Wikipedia or meaningless long-term relationship or meaningless one-night stand wash over you instead of making your life into something meaningful, as small and insignificant as that meaning might seem to others.
Grow some tomatoes. Write an essay. Bake bread. Bake it again. Travel to a country where you aren't the dominant paradigm. Don't just eat a steak and drink a glass of wine--find out where that steak came from and how that wine was made. Try one of the many kinds of sausage that aren't breakfast links and one of the many kinds of coffees that come whole-bean roasted fresh from a local roaster and not ground in a can for $1.99 at Vons.
Pancakes made from scratch are better than Bisquick and take about one extra minute.
All that we are is the sum of our experiences, so if you stop experiencing you've ceased to exist.
And now I'll go back to being pissed off about restaurants.
1. I'm usually at my computer in the morning and that coupled with a south-facing window allows for only modest direct sunlight seeping between the uniquely Los Angeleno slat-blinds.
2. Despite the very prominent presence of a light switch on my wall it does not actually activate any outlets and my lighting is provided by three smaller lamps spread out throughout my room. And I don't like desk lamps during the day time.
3. I'm usually at my computer sparsely dressed and this area being dense with multi-family housing a couple buildings look directly into my room. At best I'm an ambivalent exhibitionist inasmuch as I don't particularly care if I am seen in moderately compromising states, but I don't want to actively solicit onlookers.
A darkened room, I'm shirtless in gym shorts, and I'm listening to the most recent Two Gallants album (it's called "Two Gallants). This album has been growing on me with repeated listens. I wasn't too keen on it at first as it's rather mellow and lo-fi and lacks much of the harder punk-y edge of "What the Toll Tells." But the emotions are honest, the stories are pathos-riddled, and they put out a shit tonne of quality sound for a couple skinny white guys from San Francisco.
And Pitchfork and Prefix deserve cockslaps for their missing-the-point reviews of "What the Toll Tells" in which they're critical of the song "Long Summer's Day" for "borrowing otherness" because it's told from the perspective of a black sharecropper. This is what happens when you let cultural anthropologists become music critics.
Helluva live show too.
I've been called an asshole numerous times. I've been called mean. Arrogant. A dick. Sarcastic. I've been criticized for not caring about the feelings of others (unfair, I think). People who care about their feelings being cared for are rather selfish people, no? I'm told I don't admit when I'm wrong. This might be true, but could it be that I'm just not wrong very often?
I've made a lot of mistakes and I have been uncharitable to a lot of people. I think that that part of my personality has mellowed with age, as all things should, in the same way that we move from ketchup to mustard on our hot dogs and we begin embracing more complex flavors like the bitter fresh spiciness of wild arugula or the gooey stink of a nice ripe cheese.
As most long-time wine tasters eventually leave behind big and spicy reds and rediscover the elegance and nuance of whites. This is a clear indicator that Robert Parker (and most of the wine establishment) have palates that are still stuck in late adolescence.
I'm still as passionate, opinionated, and driven as I was before. I'm just more intelligent and (hopefully) nicer about it.
But back to the point. It's dark. I'm shirtless. There's indie lo-fi folk rock on the Altec Lansing inMotion. And I have a profound sadness deep in my chest. That sort of cosmic sob that never quite wells into tears but really should.
I don't know if this is that "fear and loathing" I've heard so much about. It might be angst. It's not existential ennui since it moves me to action instead of inaction. Maybe it's nausea. In the Jean-Paul Sartre sense.
Why am I being brought to near-tears by Wikipedia accounts of the 1992 L.A. riots? The unnamed black reverend who stopped rioters from cutting off the (rest of the) ear of a Guatemalan immigrant and drove him to the hospital is a more important hero than the man who stood in front of tanks in Tienanmen. He didn't care about making a statement or swapping symbolic acts. He cared about saving one stranger's life.
Why do I feel a profound sadness when I hear a woman talking seriously about why she prefers Pepsi to Coke?
Why do we latch on to insignificant loyalties like to which diabetes purveyor we throw our money?
My entire body aches whenever I hear somebody say "I don't know anything about that" in that smug or just dismissive way as if there are somehow things worth knowing about and things nor worth knowing about. That knowing about the falling out between Mussorgsky and Rimsky-Korsakov is more valuable than knowing about the feud between Eazy-E and Dr. Dre. That sitting in a room and reading Hegel in the original German is a more worthwhile pursuit than playing CounterStrike. It's all equally valuable and by that I mean all equally meaningless.
If you can find something to commit yourself to and be passionate about, that's the most beautiful and most human thing in the world. Anything that allows you to challenge yourself and drive your curiosity.
I don't like not knowing about things. If I don't know about something I try to find out as much as I can about it. Even if it's things that I'll never be able to do, like solve theoretical math equations or have a g-spot orgasm, I still like to know how they work. It's useful. It lets you talk to scientists or women and not sound like a clueless dweeb.
I experience vitriolic anger when I hear somebody say "the internet's going social." These are mostly paunchy middle-aged men who will never get it since they weren't the ones sharing info across the world on Usenet boards in the 80's or organizing their entire life via IM as soon as their parents bought a modem.
As if we haven't always been discovering new ways to interact with each other since nomadic human tribes first settled down into towns and cities.
And the work of art that has inspired my strongest emotional reaction that I can think of in recent memory? WALL-E. Until the humans got involved, then it got a little bit Disney-ish for my tastes.
WALL-E is curiosity robo-personified. And it's his simple curiosity about a tiny plant and a sexy collection robot that ultimately saves Earth.
I suppose I should have said "spoiler alert" before that.
The scene of the "deranged" penguin running off into the interior of Antarctica to die instead of to the sea or to the colony in Werner Herzog's "Encounters at the End of the World" was also rather heartrending. He just wants to know what else is out there. Isn't discovery, even in the face of death, preferable to doing the same thing you've always done? He might've been eaten by a seal on that very trip to get fish had he not gone running alone into the hills.
I become very sad when I see people living in fear of the array of information, opportunity, and experience that is available. I'm sad when I see the powers that be in the entertainment industry keep banging their heads against the same wall trying to make a business model work that hasn't worked well since we first got cable television and VCRs.
I like the term "don't try to reinvent the wheel" as if we haven't been coming out with new and better wheels all the time for thousands of years. Sure the basic function is the same, but a 22-inch alloy rim with spinners is markedly different from a solid disc of wood hewn from an oak tree.
I'm upset at knowing that we go from the intellectual, emotional, and physical orgy that is college and into a life where most of us will be increasingly obsolete desk functionaries doing tasks that we haven't yet found a way to automate.
I try to live my life as actively as possible. If you don't try it's amazing how passive it can get. It's very easy to let hour after hour of television or Wikipedia or meaningless long-term relationship or meaningless one-night stand wash over you instead of making your life into something meaningful, as small and insignificant as that meaning might seem to others.
Grow some tomatoes. Write an essay. Bake bread. Bake it again. Travel to a country where you aren't the dominant paradigm. Don't just eat a steak and drink a glass of wine--find out where that steak came from and how that wine was made. Try one of the many kinds of sausage that aren't breakfast links and one of the many kinds of coffees that come whole-bean roasted fresh from a local roaster and not ground in a can for $1.99 at Vons.
Pancakes made from scratch are better than Bisquick and take about one extra minute.
All that we are is the sum of our experiences, so if you stop experiencing you've ceased to exist.
And now I'll go back to being pissed off about restaurants.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Bacaro L.A. - Los Angeles, Ca
"Shit, I'm in South-Central, mackin' on bitches in them bike shorts, smokin' 'dro, and cravin' some serious dessert panini and Slovenian wine flights. Where can I go?"
If you're like me, you ask yourself that question pretty much every day of your life. And twice on Sunday.
Thankfully there's now an answer. South-Central has their own wine bar: Bacaro L.A. And it is pretty much the best place ever. I dropped in here with Girlfriend Charlie after picking her up from LAX.
Started by a pair of USC grads who combined their mutual loves for wine, drinking, and Venetian wine bars into a chic little faux-dive on a quiet block in an unjustly maligned LA neighborhood.
Co-owner and wine director Santos Uy, who cut his teeth on wine tastings at Silverlake Wine and as a sommelier at AOC, presents an eclectic and ever-changing wine list featuring wines from all over the world including Slovenia, Hungary, and Portugal. Bacaro also has draft beer including Peroni and Chimay White Label.
The interior is fun and casual, with an entire chalkboard wall being devoted to the by-the-glass list and the cheese menu. Bacaro also features a nice selection of assemble-and-serve small plates of both the hot and cold variety. Highlights include white bean and heirloom tomato bruschette, polenta squares with roasted eggplant and tomato tapenade, and a dessert panino of chocolate and fresh strawberries. Small-plates are priced at $7 each or three for $19.
They've begun to build a name for themselves with their monthly "Beefsteak" dinners where $25 buys you all-you-can-eat roast beef, bread, butter, seasonal veggies, beer, and red wine. Dinners sell-out quickly so book well in advance.
I'm always excited about locations and events that move the enjoyment of wine out of that pretentious and rarefied realm of sleazy fat executives and withered rail-thin ex-trophy wives and into the world of the young, earnest, and hip while still maintaining a commitment to quality, value, and globally-focused wines. Bacaro is as honest as it gets. Check it out, drink heavily, and tip well. It's a treasure.
Bacaro L.A.
2308 S. Union Ave.
Los Angeles, Ca 90007
213-748-7205
www.bacarolosangeles.com
If you're like me, you ask yourself that question pretty much every day of your life. And twice on Sunday.
Thankfully there's now an answer. South-Central has their own wine bar: Bacaro L.A. And it is pretty much the best place ever. I dropped in here with Girlfriend Charlie after picking her up from LAX.
I should say that Bacaro is actually on Union Street just off of Hoover, about a mile north of USC and a half-mile south of I-10. The neighborhood is pretty okay. It's no more stabby than 51st & Telegraph in Oakland or most of Echo Park. But as far as Wikipedia is concerned, that's South-Central, or the more politically correct "South Los Angeles."
Started by a pair of USC grads who combined their mutual loves for wine, drinking, and Venetian wine bars into a chic little faux-dive on a quiet block in an unjustly maligned LA neighborhood.
Co-owner and wine director Santos Uy, who cut his teeth on wine tastings at Silverlake Wine and as a sommelier at AOC, presents an eclectic and ever-changing wine list featuring wines from all over the world including Slovenia, Hungary, and Portugal. Bacaro also has draft beer including Peroni and Chimay White Label.
The interior is fun and casual, with an entire chalkboard wall being devoted to the by-the-glass list and the cheese menu. Bacaro also features a nice selection of assemble-and-serve small plates of both the hot and cold variety. Highlights include white bean and heirloom tomato bruschette, polenta squares with roasted eggplant and tomato tapenade, and a dessert panino of chocolate and fresh strawberries. Small-plates are priced at $7 each or three for $19.
They've begun to build a name for themselves with their monthly "Beefsteak" dinners where $25 buys you all-you-can-eat roast beef, bread, butter, seasonal veggies, beer, and red wine. Dinners sell-out quickly so book well in advance.
I'm always excited about locations and events that move the enjoyment of wine out of that pretentious and rarefied realm of sleazy fat executives and withered rail-thin ex-trophy wives and into the world of the young, earnest, and hip while still maintaining a commitment to quality, value, and globally-focused wines. Bacaro is as honest as it gets. Check it out, drink heavily, and tip well. It's a treasure.
Bacaro L.A.
2308 S. Union Ave.
Los Angeles, Ca 90007
213-748-7205
www.bacarolosangeles.com
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares
Thanks to a very slow holiday weekend I've taken some time to get caught up on a show I'd never watched before: Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares.
While "Diamonds on my fish, diamonds diamonds on my fish" from the American version of the show has entered my casual reference lexicon, I haven't become a fan of the Fox version in my limited viewing because it really does focus on anger, incompetence, and Ramsay berating mental midgets. That's uninteresting. I can watch VH1 for that.
I was rather pleasantly surprised to discover that the original BBC show is everything great about a restaurant program.
The restaurants on the show are failing, to be sure. But they're failing primarily as a result of ignorance, ego, and overambition, not inherent incompetence. As a result Ramsay's presence is actually (usually) beneficial. Sure he plays his mean shouting chef character but he honestly seems to care about the restaurant. And it's mostly in instances where the owners themselves don't care about their business' success that the restaurants go on to fail. If the staff commits to what Ramsay proposes they're usually able to staunch the bleeding and move forward.
It's a testament to Ramsay's intuitive understanding of restaurants as well as the magic of BBC's editing.
The Fox version, in the grand tradition of American television misunderstanding the intent of BBC programming, doesn't seem to care whether the restaurant succeeds or not, instead hoping for shouting, screaming, and fights.
Some basic rules about restaurants gleaned from Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares:
1. The customer comes first. You have to make a restaurant that people want to go to. Most of the problems come from a chef and owner who put their own egos ahead of what people want. They stubbornly stick to their concept, menu, or "master plan," even when they face empty restaurants and mounting debts.
2. Customers want value. That's not to say they want cheap, but they want a sense of quality for their money. People will pay more for a quality product but will not come back if they feel they've been ripped off, abused, or treated like idiots.
3. Know your audience. If you're a pub, don't try to be a hotel dining room. If you're in the Midlands, don't pretend that you're in the City. If you're in Brighton, serve food that tourists and homosexuals love.
4. Keep it simple. Flourish, grandeur, and pretentious ingredients will lead to failure if the fundamentals are flawed. It's better to serve fresh, local fish, meat, game, and produce simply, inexpensively and well then to fuck up or freeze expensive imported ingredients.
In my own experience these rules hold true. I worked at a neighborhood restaurant with an outstanding chef that went bust after one year because, despite a nice dining room and warm service, we served old frozen food garnished with spirals of bean sprouts and plantain spirals.
Where some of the even most esteemed California Cuisine restaurants fail is that they treat their customers like they're children, being rewarded with exquisitely fresh produce because they drive a Prius and live in Berkeley. Fresh quality ingredients are a given! It's not magic, it's what should be served. Let's move on from there. That's why, despite some wonderful meals, I don't really want to go back to Chez Panisse Cafe. I don't like being treated like I'm blessed to pay $25 for undercooked mackerel and treated like I'm retarded for suggesting that perhaps it needed to be cooked through.
The Oceanic Dinner at Oliveto pissed me off because I had had better meals with better prepared and better quality ingredients for a third the price.
Conversely, Redd was awesome because despite a similar price tag I felt I had tasted simple, fresh, and innovative food, enough of it, and smartly-paired wines.
Seeing the unpretentious, warm, and home-y British pubs serving fresh, exquisitely cooked game at strikingly reasonable prices (for Britain) was inspiring. So far the gastropub movement in the United States has meant either over-priced bar food or over-elaborate Cal cuisine served in an under-elaborate dining room.
Next on my agenda? Hitting up the somewhat critically maligned Gordon Ramsay's at the London West Hollywood to see if his restaurant practices what he preaches, even when the chef is thousands of miles away.
While "Diamonds on my fish, diamonds diamonds on my fish" from the American version of the show has entered my casual reference lexicon, I haven't become a fan of the Fox version in my limited viewing because it really does focus on anger, incompetence, and Ramsay berating mental midgets. That's uninteresting. I can watch VH1 for that.
I was rather pleasantly surprised to discover that the original BBC show is everything great about a restaurant program.
The restaurants on the show are failing, to be sure. But they're failing primarily as a result of ignorance, ego, and overambition, not inherent incompetence. As a result Ramsay's presence is actually (usually) beneficial. Sure he plays his mean shouting chef character but he honestly seems to care about the restaurant. And it's mostly in instances where the owners themselves don't care about their business' success that the restaurants go on to fail. If the staff commits to what Ramsay proposes they're usually able to staunch the bleeding and move forward.
It's a testament to Ramsay's intuitive understanding of restaurants as well as the magic of BBC's editing.
The Fox version, in the grand tradition of American television misunderstanding the intent of BBC programming, doesn't seem to care whether the restaurant succeeds or not, instead hoping for shouting, screaming, and fights.
Some basic rules about restaurants gleaned from Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares:
1. The customer comes first. You have to make a restaurant that people want to go to. Most of the problems come from a chef and owner who put their own egos ahead of what people want. They stubbornly stick to their concept, menu, or "master plan," even when they face empty restaurants and mounting debts.
2. Customers want value. That's not to say they want cheap, but they want a sense of quality for their money. People will pay more for a quality product but will not come back if they feel they've been ripped off, abused, or treated like idiots.
3. Know your audience. If you're a pub, don't try to be a hotel dining room. If you're in the Midlands, don't pretend that you're in the City. If you're in Brighton, serve food that tourists and homosexuals love.
4. Keep it simple. Flourish, grandeur, and pretentious ingredients will lead to failure if the fundamentals are flawed. It's better to serve fresh, local fish, meat, game, and produce simply, inexpensively and well then to fuck up or freeze expensive imported ingredients.
In my own experience these rules hold true. I worked at a neighborhood restaurant with an outstanding chef that went bust after one year because, despite a nice dining room and warm service, we served old frozen food garnished with spirals of bean sprouts and plantain spirals.
Where some of the even most esteemed California Cuisine restaurants fail is that they treat their customers like they're children, being rewarded with exquisitely fresh produce because they drive a Prius and live in Berkeley. Fresh quality ingredients are a given! It's not magic, it's what should be served. Let's move on from there. That's why, despite some wonderful meals, I don't really want to go back to Chez Panisse Cafe. I don't like being treated like I'm blessed to pay $25 for undercooked mackerel and treated like I'm retarded for suggesting that perhaps it needed to be cooked through.
The Oceanic Dinner at Oliveto pissed me off because I had had better meals with better prepared and better quality ingredients for a third the price.
Conversely, Redd was awesome because despite a similar price tag I felt I had tasted simple, fresh, and innovative food, enough of it, and smartly-paired wines.
Seeing the unpretentious, warm, and home-y British pubs serving fresh, exquisitely cooked game at strikingly reasonable prices (for Britain) was inspiring. So far the gastropub movement in the United States has meant either over-priced bar food or over-elaborate Cal cuisine served in an under-elaborate dining room.
Next on my agenda? Hitting up the somewhat critically maligned Gordon Ramsay's at the London West Hollywood to see if his restaurant practices what he preaches, even when the chef is thousands of miles away.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
HFF Quickie: That Superfluous "S"
Why the fuck do people add an "S" to the end of so many goddamn restaurants' names? In Berkeley, you went to "Cesar's," "Fonda's," or "Zuni's."
And yet, strangely one of the few restaurants that actually had a possessive "S" in the name, Lalime's was often called simply "Lalime."
In LA, it's "Ugo's," "Bastide's," and "Pintxo's."
Why can't we just call something what it's named? There is no Cesar or Bastide to own the restaurant. It's not Pintxo's Bar, it's Bar Pintxo. It's not Humperdinck Fonda's Solana, it's Fonda Solana.
It's okay to end a word on a vowel or soft consonant. Really, I promise.
Changing the name of an establishment for your own linguistic convenience is on par with calling somebody by a name they don't want to go by. It's sort of an unintentionally asshole-y East Coast/Midwest habit that masquerades as friendly or quaint.
And yet, strangely one of the few restaurants that actually had a possessive "S" in the name, Lalime's was often called simply "Lalime."
In LA, it's "Ugo's," "Bastide's," and "Pintxo's."
Why can't we just call something what it's named? There is no Cesar or Bastide to own the restaurant. It's not Pintxo's Bar, it's Bar Pintxo. It's not Humperdinck Fonda's Solana, it's Fonda Solana.
It's okay to end a word on a vowel or soft consonant. Really, I promise.
Changing the name of an establishment for your own linguistic convenience is on par with calling somebody by a name they don't want to go by. It's sort of an unintentionally asshole-y East Coast/Midwest habit that masquerades as friendly or quaint.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
HFF Tells You: How to Dress for Going Out to Dinner
There was a time when getting dressed for dinner meant putting on your dinner jacket or evening gown and sitting down at a tastefully appointed table to be served grey meat and table-side Caesar salad by closeted homosexuals.
Thankfully times have changed, especially in California where the line between "fine" and "casual" dining is very very blurry and where one's appearance is judged on fashion and style rather than "appropriateness" and formality.
And where our waiters are out and proud.
There are some basic rules for what to wear when going out to dinner, and I now set them forth thusly for posterity.
I'll be speaking mostly about what men should wear, since I don't really know too much about women's fashion and men, generally speaking, need the most help in dressing for dinner. A couple basic rules for women:
1. When in doubt, wear a dress. I don't care if it's a gown or a cute little retro hipster thing, you'll always look good in a dress that fits you.
2. Strappy tops, skinny jeans, and stiletto heals are for the club and/or going out for cosmos with your girlfriends after seeing Sex and the City, not for dinner. Seriously, you don't look like Miranda, you look like a tramp.
On to the men:
1. A well-made solid colored t-shirt, stylish jeans, nice shoes, and a sweater or sport coat will work in 99% of instances.
2. Shoes are key. If you're going to wear sneakers they need to be distinctive and scuff-free. No jogging shoes or hiking boots (unless you're a lesbian). And don't wear black leather oxfords to dinner. Save those for the office.
3. If you're going to wear a sport coat and jeans, make sure you're wearing a true sport coat, not a suit jacket. It looks terrible. If you're to wear a t-shirt and sport coat, wear a very casual sport coat. Something made from cotton with patch pockets or vaguely safari-style is good. You can also opt for something nice but unconventional like a workman's jacket, Eisenhower jacket, or unadorned leather jacket. Wool jackets should pretty much always be worn with a collared shirt.
4. Unless you want to look like a 70 year-old man, never under any circumstances tuck any shirt other than your undershirt into your jeans. There are many nice collared shirts available that are darted and square-cut for this purpose. Do not wear a belt with your jeans if you can avoid it. Conversely, always tuck your shirt in (and wear a belt) if you're wearing slacks to dinner.
5. If you wear a jacket to dinner, leave your jacket on at the table. Especially if you are dining with a lady.
6. Do your research. If you're going out to dinner at night in the city at a restaurant with white tablecloths where you think you'll be spending $50+ a person on dinner, you can never go wrong with a jacket and tie. Period. Nobody's going to think you're cool because you went to the French Laundry in your True Religion jeans and English Laundry shirt you freakin' douche bag (see Women's Rule #2)! At any nice restaurant after dark you'll never be out of place in a jacket and tie. And you can always take off your tie and unbutton your shirt a couple buttons if you really do feel overdressed.
7. No shorts, no short-sleeved button-up shirts (just roll up your sleeves man!), no sweatpants, no athletic gear/sports team/designer logo t-shirts (go either solid/pattern or hipster ironic), no Velcro (ever), no sandals with socks, no white socks, no parkas/ski jackets/any coat you'd buy at REI or the North Face, no $5 digital watches (unless chosen very deliberately as part of a campy/ironic ensemble or featuring a calculator), no baseball/trucker hats , and no hats in general worn at the table.
Most importantly...
8. Dress consistently! Just because you're wearing slacks and a collared shirt doesn't mean you're "dressed up" and just because you're wearing jeans and a t-shirt doesn't mean you don't look "nice." These are standards that have been set for people under the age of fourteen and should remain such. Don't wear your dirty scuffed Rockports with a jacket and tie and don't wear Allen Edmonds bluchers with jeans and a t-shirt. Don't wear a long-tailed dress shirt untucked with jeans and don't tuck a pastel "South Lake Tahoe, California" t-shirt into your khakis.
But if you must tuck your novelty t-shirt into slacks, at least have the decency to complete the ensemble with an appropriate woven leather belt, and Tevas worn with white gym socks.
Going out to dinner is just that, going out. You're leaving the house to have fun, enjoy yourself, and be civilized. Dressing right (I don't mean fancy, I just mean with some thought and care) shows respect for yourself and, more importantly, respect for those around you.
Sorry to say, but being around nice-looking people is nice.
Thankfully times have changed, especially in California where the line between "fine" and "casual" dining is very very blurry and where one's appearance is judged on fashion and style rather than "appropriateness" and formality.
And where our waiters are out and proud.
There are some basic rules for what to wear when going out to dinner, and I now set them forth thusly for posterity.
I'll be speaking mostly about what men should wear, since I don't really know too much about women's fashion and men, generally speaking, need the most help in dressing for dinner. A couple basic rules for women:
1. When in doubt, wear a dress. I don't care if it's a gown or a cute little retro hipster thing, you'll always look good in a dress that fits you.
2. Strappy tops, skinny jeans, and stiletto heals are for the club and/or going out for cosmos with your girlfriends after seeing Sex and the City, not for dinner. Seriously, you don't look like Miranda, you look like a tramp.
On to the men:
1. A well-made solid colored t-shirt, stylish jeans, nice shoes, and a sweater or sport coat will work in 99% of instances.
2. Shoes are key. If you're going to wear sneakers they need to be distinctive and scuff-free. No jogging shoes or hiking boots (unless you're a lesbian). And don't wear black leather oxfords to dinner. Save those for the office.
3. If you're going to wear a sport coat and jeans, make sure you're wearing a true sport coat, not a suit jacket. It looks terrible. If you're to wear a t-shirt and sport coat, wear a very casual sport coat. Something made from cotton with patch pockets or vaguely safari-style is good. You can also opt for something nice but unconventional like a workman's jacket, Eisenhower jacket, or unadorned leather jacket. Wool jackets should pretty much always be worn with a collared shirt.
4. Unless you want to look like a 70 year-old man, never under any circumstances tuck any shirt other than your undershirt into your jeans. There are many nice collared shirts available that are darted and square-cut for this purpose. Do not wear a belt with your jeans if you can avoid it. Conversely, always tuck your shirt in (and wear a belt) if you're wearing slacks to dinner.
5. If you wear a jacket to dinner, leave your jacket on at the table. Especially if you are dining with a lady.
6. Do your research. If you're going out to dinner at night in the city at a restaurant with white tablecloths where you think you'll be spending $50+ a person on dinner, you can never go wrong with a jacket and tie. Period. Nobody's going to think you're cool because you went to the French Laundry in your True Religion jeans and English Laundry shirt you freakin' douche bag (see Women's Rule #2)! At any nice restaurant after dark you'll never be out of place in a jacket and tie. And you can always take off your tie and unbutton your shirt a couple buttons if you really do feel overdressed.
7. No shorts, no short-sleeved button-up shirts (just roll up your sleeves man!), no sweatpants, no athletic gear/sports team/designer logo t-shirts (go either solid/pattern or hipster ironic), no Velcro (ever), no sandals with socks, no white socks, no parkas/ski jackets/any coat you'd buy at REI or the North Face, no $5 digital watches (unless chosen very deliberately as part of a campy/ironic ensemble or featuring a calculator), no baseball/trucker hats , and no hats in general worn at the table.
Most importantly...
8. Dress consistently! Just because you're wearing slacks and a collared shirt doesn't mean you're "dressed up" and just because you're wearing jeans and a t-shirt doesn't mean you don't look "nice." These are standards that have been set for people under the age of fourteen and should remain such. Don't wear your dirty scuffed Rockports with a jacket and tie and don't wear Allen Edmonds bluchers with jeans and a t-shirt. Don't wear a long-tailed dress shirt untucked with jeans and don't tuck a pastel "South Lake Tahoe, California" t-shirt into your khakis.
But if you must tuck your novelty t-shirt into slacks, at least have the decency to complete the ensemble with an appropriate woven leather belt, and Tevas worn with white gym socks.
Going out to dinner is just that, going out. You're leaving the house to have fun, enjoy yourself, and be civilized. Dressing right (I don't mean fancy, I just mean with some thought and care) shows respect for yourself and, more importantly, respect for those around you.
Sorry to say, but being around nice-looking people is nice.
Friday, June 20, 2008
The Cheese Store of Silverlake
I'm skeptical of "gourmet food" markets. Especially in this day and age (and place) of California where most most large urban areas have some sort of full-service grocery store where you can find a dozen different kinds of marinated olives and where Trader Joe's has a selection of fine cheeses from all over the world that rivals even Wicked Entertainment's contract girls.
Most "gourmet food" markets are just slightly oversized delis selling expensive sandwiches, salty Spanish ham, and the shelf-stable imports that inevitably become coated with a delightful layer of dust as they sit so stably on the shelf.
My disdain makes me all the more pleased to say that the Cheese Store of Silverlake freakin' rocks. Where most stores like this fill their shelves with tuna packed in oil and a dozen different kinds of creepy Spanish cookies made with beef fat, CSSL has a selection of packaged goods the likes of which I've ne'er seen in all my years of poking through specialty food marts looking for salt-packed anchovies. Rice-a-Roni-esque packaged paellas from Spain (including octopus)? Check. Impossibly enormous and colorful dried pastas? Check. Locally made cookies and compotes? Indeed. Bottles of thick and sickeningly sweet coffee and strawberry flavored syrups from Rhode Island (the proprietor's home state)? Abso-freakin-lutely with a pickle on a stick!
When I browsed through the selection I got a sense that every product had a purpose and that whoever decided on the selection had a passion for every product sold, no matter how weird or obscure.
And of course the cheese, the selection of which towers throughout the well-chilled store. Cheese Store of Silverlake puts even the Cheese Board in Berkeley to shame with its selection. There's also the added bonus that the Cheese Store of Silver Lake is run by a former tour manager for Pat Benatar and Van Halen and staffed by a team of cute hipster girls and not by surly middle-aged Berkeley housewives looking to find "meaning" in their lives. The cheese selection is incredibly comprehensive but the Store has none of the California Cuisine and "I vacationed to Europe once" pretentiousness and self-importance that usually accompanies such establishments.
As an aside, while I was there a punk rock girl with short hair done up in a fauxhawk, tiny despite being close to eight months pregnant (with gorgeous milk-laden breasts), bought a couple cheeses and some fregola. It was without question the second the hottest thing I've ever seen.
CSSL also has a nice small selection of domestic and imported charcuterie, boquerones, olive oils (including "fill your own" from two large dispensers), dressings, locally-made candies and chocolates, and a small but global selection of hard-to-find small production wines (even some from Rhode Island).
I like parentheses.
The sandwich I had was excellent. Selection changes daily and most of the sandwiches are served hot, panini style, showcasing the well-selected cheese, pairing it simply with one or two meats and some sort of chutney, tapenade, or other semi-preserved vegetable.
I'll report on the octopus paella as soon as I bust open the box.
I know I'm probably very late to the game since the Cheese Store's been open for close to six years now, but it's new to me.
The Cheese Store of Silverlake
3926-28 West Sunset Blvd.
Los Angeles, Ca 90029
323-644-7511
www.cheesestoresl.com
Most "gourmet food" markets are just slightly oversized delis selling expensive sandwiches, salty Spanish ham, and the shelf-stable imports that inevitably become coated with a delightful layer of dust as they sit so stably on the shelf.
My disdain makes me all the more pleased to say that the Cheese Store of Silverlake freakin' rocks. Where most stores like this fill their shelves with tuna packed in oil and a dozen different kinds of creepy Spanish cookies made with beef fat, CSSL has a selection of packaged goods the likes of which I've ne'er seen in all my years of poking through specialty food marts looking for salt-packed anchovies. Rice-a-Roni-esque packaged paellas from Spain (including octopus)? Check. Impossibly enormous and colorful dried pastas? Check. Locally made cookies and compotes? Indeed. Bottles of thick and sickeningly sweet coffee and strawberry flavored syrups from Rhode Island (the proprietor's home state)? Abso-freakin-lutely with a pickle on a stick!
When I browsed through the selection I got a sense that every product had a purpose and that whoever decided on the selection had a passion for every product sold, no matter how weird or obscure.
And of course the cheese, the selection of which towers throughout the well-chilled store. Cheese Store of Silverlake puts even the Cheese Board in Berkeley to shame with its selection. There's also the added bonus that the Cheese Store of Silver Lake is run by a former tour manager for Pat Benatar and Van Halen and staffed by a team of cute hipster girls and not by surly middle-aged Berkeley housewives looking to find "meaning" in their lives. The cheese selection is incredibly comprehensive but the Store has none of the California Cuisine and "I vacationed to Europe once" pretentiousness and self-importance that usually accompanies such establishments.
As an aside, while I was there a punk rock girl with short hair done up in a fauxhawk, tiny despite being close to eight months pregnant (with gorgeous milk-laden breasts), bought a couple cheeses and some fregola. It was without question the second the hottest thing I've ever seen.
CSSL also has a nice small selection of domestic and imported charcuterie, boquerones, olive oils (including "fill your own" from two large dispensers), dressings, locally-made candies and chocolates, and a small but global selection of hard-to-find small production wines (even some from Rhode Island).
I like parentheses.
The sandwich I had was excellent. Selection changes daily and most of the sandwiches are served hot, panini style, showcasing the well-selected cheese, pairing it simply with one or two meats and some sort of chutney, tapenade, or other semi-preserved vegetable.
I'll report on the octopus paella as soon as I bust open the box.
I know I'm probably very late to the game since the Cheese Store's been open for close to six years now, but it's new to me.
The Cheese Store of Silverlake
3926-28 West Sunset Blvd.
Los Angeles, Ca 90029
323-644-7511
www.cheesestoresl.com
Monday, June 09, 2008
Seriously, Can We Stop This Already?
For those handful of regular HFF readers out there, most of my points that I'm about to expand upon in vitriolic rant form you're probably already familiar with.
However, as I've learned from careful study of my Google Analytics, most of my search engine hits have come from people searching "Yelp Sucks" or "I Hate Yelp" or a couple other anti-Yelp! combinations. This means that many people find my blog as a result of being pissed off and annoyed about SOMETHING, and usually those people like to read someone else being pissed off and annoyed.
I will not be ranting about Yelp! this time. Sorry.
Relatedly, if you happen to be the one person who stumbled across Horny For Food by searching for "Rachel Ray's Ass" on Google, please do leave a comment. You are my hero.
So, what can we please stop talking about already?
1. "Gourmet" hamburgers. This really has supplanted "gourmet" pizza as the go-to gimmick food of choice. Pretty much every restaurant of any sort where it wouldn't be remotely out of place serves a burger. And while there are the higher-end places like Spago, Boulevard, Zuni, Comme Ca, and Saddle Peak Lodge serving some version of a burger, what is more noticeable is the proliferation of the "gastropub" and "burger bar" style restaurants where (in theory) celebrity chefs have pissing contests with each other as to who can make the best burger and then charge $12-$16 (or more if made from Wagyu or foie gras is added).
So what's the problem? The problem is it's a goddamn freakin' burger! That's what the problem is. Burgers came out of a need to utilize and extend small quantities of meat of a middling quality. The poor discovered that, hey, I can chop up this meat and mix it with some bread crumbs, egg, and spices and form it into a steak-like patty and this ain't so bad. And I can make a pound of food out of a half-pound of meat. I would argue that perhaps the oft-touted McDonald's "100% Beef Burger" is more of a misnomer than it was before, as what we now consume are ground beef sandwiches and not hamburgers.
Fatty ground beef, cooked appropriately, and served on a roll with whatever assortment of condiments, is going to be delicious. Period. Making a burger out of Prime tenderloin is ridiculous. Making a burger out of Kobe-style beef is also ridiculous. In fact, eating Kobe-style beef in any form other than in seared-to-raw steak form is ridiculous. You want a Kobe-style beef burger? Add some butter to your ground grocery store chuck when you make the patties.
Let's look at the great scaling effect of prices.... I can get a 10 oz. prime rib at Sizzler for $9.99. I can get a 10 oz. prime rib at Epic Roasthouse for $33. Will the Epic prime rib be at least three times better than the grey gristly Sizzler prime rib? Hell yes. Will my whole $38 roast chicken at Zuni be four times better than the $9.99 one from Boston Market? Good freakin' lord yes.
But is the $14 burger from Father's Office three times better than a 4x4 animal style ($4.75) from In-N-Out?
I mean, REALLY think about it. Is the beef better quality? Well, yes but it's also ALL GROUND UP so what's really the point? In-N-Out always has respectably fresh produce for the price. And I'll take the soft sponge bread at In-N-Out over the weird fresh-from-Costco looking roll that Father's Office uses.
And for that $4.75 you get a fully customizable half-pound burger, not a take-it-or-leave-it prima donna burger.
Is the Father's Office burger "better"? Sure. Is it an equal (or even 1/3 equal) value? Hell no. Hell no with a cherry on top.
"Gourmet" burgers cater to people with limited taste who still want to indulge in fanciness. It's the "I drive an Escalade and wear a Rolex but I'm scared of food shaped with a timbale" crowd. It's the "I want to go to a fancy restaurant and spend $50 on lunch, but I want a steak and a caesar salad" crowd. It's a cousin of the "look at me I'm drinking Charles Shaw and that's just as classy as drinking something for $20 a bottle" crowd.
And of course restaurants are more than happy to oblige, as they make a pretty decent margin on their $14 burger, even if it is made from supermagichappybeef from beyond the moon.
That being said, everything I've had from Father's Office has been interesting, innovative, well-priced, and pretty damn good. I'm glad they sell hundreds of burgers a night to help subsidize the smoked eel and softshell crab.
I would even posit that the "who has the best burger" debate is more absurd than the "who has the best pizza" debate, since it's pretty clear to my mind that the $14 scarole pizza from Pizzeria Delfina is without any hesitation three times better than a $5 pepperoni pizza from Domino's (which in and of itself is probably better than most $10 pizzas offered at the scores of characterless "Trattoria" that populate the world).
2. Sweet Potato Fries. This is weird because I really like sweet potato fries. But they're everywhere now! At least in Los Angeles. It's like we all woke up one day and said "Hey, let's like sweet potato fries instead of regular potato fries. They're orange!" I think this is perhaps based on the incorrect reasoning that the sweet potato is better for you than the potato. The sweet potato is richer in certain nutrients than the potato, but the potato is a more well-rounded source of nutrients. I'm going to say that Mariah Carey started this trend because that makes the most sense. And anyone who has seen her cameo in Don't Mess With The Zohan knows that she makes excellent career and nutritional decisions.
3. Complaining About Food Being Overpriced. Dining out is inherently overpriced. Get over it. If you really care about it that much, then cook at home or eat at Del Taco. Most of the time, these people only complain about really expensive restaurants being overpriced. I find the bowl of mediocre dried pasta with a quarter-cup of bad vegetables passed off as "gourmet" pasta by Cafe Ugo for $9.99 to be way more overpriced than any $30 entree I've had out.
These people also have no understanding of the elaborate equations that go into pricing food at a restaurant, so they really can't speak to something being overpriced. They can speak to it being "not worth their money," but that's pretty much it.
4. Complaining About A Restaurant Being Overrated/Underrated. Of course it is! Anything that's rated is going to be overrated or underrated. That's the way it goes. I don't think Father's Office burger is overrated. I don't care. I just think it's a rip-off.
As an aside, I do enjoy all my dining companions who say that the Father's Office burger is "Good, but not worth the hype." Of course it's not, because (everyone now, all together) IT'S A MOTHERFUCKING BURGER! You're surprised?
That's a dig at the concept, not my friends. I adore my friends. I promise.
5. Bitching About "Incorrect" Ethnicities Cooking Food At Ethnic Restaurants. "Please, any sushi prepared my Mexicans isn't sushi." I've seen that on Yelp! innumerable times. How can that possibly be true? We don't say "any French food prepared by Mexicans isn't French food." Anthony Bourdain will tell you that of anybody he's ever worked with, the Mexicans from Puebla are the most talented cooks he's ever encountered. The current chef at Les Halles hails from Puebla.
It really smacks of racism. And it's the worst kind of racism: the racism from people who would be shocked and appalled to be called racist because they're worldly, liberal, support amnesty for illegal immigrants, and voted Green. So why don't you want brown people making your sushi? Why can it only be magical Asians?
After having worked in restaurants for so long, I'm skeptical of any skinny white kid wearing a "Le Cordon Bleu" culinary school jacket than I am of a Latin American, regardless of cuisine.
Yeah sure there's a cultural mystique around sushi, but unless you're going to one of those hallowed bastions of traditional Japanese dining and spending $100 a person you're not going to be getting an "authentic" Japanese experience anyway. Hell, when I went to Sebo I was served by the Japanese sushi chef, but it sure as hell looked like the white sushi chef serving the couples at the other end of the bar was quicker, more intense, and had better presentation skills. People are people, some are more talented, experienced, and better trained than others. Little if any of that has to do with race, culture, or gender.
And can we really trust all the rules of a culinary culture whose de facto prohibition of female sushi chefs was supported by the assertion that a woman's hands are too warm and would "cook" the fish in preparation?
I'm going to piggyback on this rant a rant against people who make a personal cultural identification claim to support their dismissal of a restaurant. Things like "My Tia Maria made me tamales growing up and these are NOT authentic tamales" or "My grandma is from Ireland and this was NOT real Irish soda bread" or "I dated a Korean chick once and this Bi Bim Bap sucks worse than she did." Why the fuck should I care? I don't know your Tia Maria. Maybe she sucked at making tamales. Maybe your Irish grandma used too much baking soda. And maybe that Korean chick had herpes.
Unless your assertion is "I've been a working food critic in Mexico City for ten years and have eaten at a broad assortment of that nation's finest restaurants and this American restaurant that makes a claim to provide that same type of cuisine falls far short of that aim," I don't care.
And a Subset-A piggyback on that piggyback point point, can we stop with this myth that "In Mexico, they don't actually eat spicy food." In Mexico they probably don't use the pure capsicum extract hot sauces that are popular among a certain American "let's see who has the bigger dick based on our ability to tolerate spiciness" culture, but they do use a lot of chili peppers. And every staff meal the guys in the kitchen made at the restaurants I've worked have been close to face-meltingly spicy. Do some people in Mexico not eat spicy food? I imagine so. Some people in America don't eat spicy food too.
You see, not everyone in Mexico is a tequila-drinking, sombrero-wearing, jalapeno-chomping stereotype.
Just as not every American is an obese, sandal-and-gym sock wearing, xenophobic, unworldly ignoramus.
I'd wager it's probably a helluvalot easier to find the latter before the former though.
However, as I've learned from careful study of my Google Analytics, most of my search engine hits have come from people searching "Yelp Sucks" or "I Hate Yelp" or a couple other anti-Yelp! combinations. This means that many people find my blog as a result of being pissed off and annoyed about SOMETHING, and usually those people like to read someone else being pissed off and annoyed.
I will not be ranting about Yelp! this time. Sorry.
Relatedly, if you happen to be the one person who stumbled across Horny For Food by searching for "Rachel Ray's Ass" on Google, please do leave a comment. You are my hero.
So, what can we please stop talking about already?
1. "Gourmet" hamburgers. This really has supplanted "gourmet" pizza as the go-to gimmick food of choice. Pretty much every restaurant of any sort where it wouldn't be remotely out of place serves a burger. And while there are the higher-end places like Spago, Boulevard, Zuni, Comme Ca, and Saddle Peak Lodge serving some version of a burger, what is more noticeable is the proliferation of the "gastropub" and "burger bar" style restaurants where (in theory) celebrity chefs have pissing contests with each other as to who can make the best burger and then charge $12-$16 (or more if made from Wagyu or foie gras is added).
So what's the problem? The problem is it's a goddamn freakin' burger! That's what the problem is. Burgers came out of a need to utilize and extend small quantities of meat of a middling quality. The poor discovered that, hey, I can chop up this meat and mix it with some bread crumbs, egg, and spices and form it into a steak-like patty and this ain't so bad. And I can make a pound of food out of a half-pound of meat. I would argue that perhaps the oft-touted McDonald's "100% Beef Burger" is more of a misnomer than it was before, as what we now consume are ground beef sandwiches and not hamburgers.
Fatty ground beef, cooked appropriately, and served on a roll with whatever assortment of condiments, is going to be delicious. Period. Making a burger out of Prime tenderloin is ridiculous. Making a burger out of Kobe-style beef is also ridiculous. In fact, eating Kobe-style beef in any form other than in seared-to-raw steak form is ridiculous. You want a Kobe-style beef burger? Add some butter to your ground grocery store chuck when you make the patties.
Let's look at the great scaling effect of prices.... I can get a 10 oz. prime rib at Sizzler for $9.99. I can get a 10 oz. prime rib at Epic Roasthouse for $33. Will the Epic prime rib be at least three times better than the grey gristly Sizzler prime rib? Hell yes. Will my whole $38 roast chicken at Zuni be four times better than the $9.99 one from Boston Market? Good freakin' lord yes.
But is the $14 burger from Father's Office three times better than a 4x4 animal style ($4.75) from In-N-Out?
I mean, REALLY think about it. Is the beef better quality? Well, yes but it's also ALL GROUND UP so what's really the point? In-N-Out always has respectably fresh produce for the price. And I'll take the soft sponge bread at In-N-Out over the weird fresh-from-Costco looking roll that Father's Office uses.
And for that $4.75 you get a fully customizable half-pound burger, not a take-it-or-leave-it prima donna burger.
Is the Father's Office burger "better"? Sure. Is it an equal (or even 1/3 equal) value? Hell no. Hell no with a cherry on top.
"Gourmet" burgers cater to people with limited taste who still want to indulge in fanciness. It's the "I drive an Escalade and wear a Rolex but I'm scared of food shaped with a timbale" crowd. It's the "I want to go to a fancy restaurant and spend $50 on lunch, but I want a steak and a caesar salad" crowd. It's a cousin of the "look at me I'm drinking Charles Shaw and that's just as classy as drinking something for $20 a bottle" crowd.
And of course restaurants are more than happy to oblige, as they make a pretty decent margin on their $14 burger, even if it is made from supermagichappybeef from beyond the moon.
That being said, everything I've had from Father's Office has been interesting, innovative, well-priced, and pretty damn good. I'm glad they sell hundreds of burgers a night to help subsidize the smoked eel and softshell crab.
I would even posit that the "who has the best burger" debate is more absurd than the "who has the best pizza" debate, since it's pretty clear to my mind that the $14 scarole pizza from Pizzeria Delfina is without any hesitation three times better than a $5 pepperoni pizza from Domino's (which in and of itself is probably better than most $10 pizzas offered at the scores of characterless "Trattoria" that populate the world).
2. Sweet Potato Fries. This is weird because I really like sweet potato fries. But they're everywhere now! At least in Los Angeles. It's like we all woke up one day and said "Hey, let's like sweet potato fries instead of regular potato fries. They're orange!" I think this is perhaps based on the incorrect reasoning that the sweet potato is better for you than the potato. The sweet potato is richer in certain nutrients than the potato, but the potato is a more well-rounded source of nutrients. I'm going to say that Mariah Carey started this trend because that makes the most sense. And anyone who has seen her cameo in Don't Mess With The Zohan knows that she makes excellent career and nutritional decisions.
3. Complaining About Food Being Overpriced. Dining out is inherently overpriced. Get over it. If you really care about it that much, then cook at home or eat at Del Taco. Most of the time, these people only complain about really expensive restaurants being overpriced. I find the bowl of mediocre dried pasta with a quarter-cup of bad vegetables passed off as "gourmet" pasta by Cafe Ugo for $9.99 to be way more overpriced than any $30 entree I've had out.
These people also have no understanding of the elaborate equations that go into pricing food at a restaurant, so they really can't speak to something being overpriced. They can speak to it being "not worth their money," but that's pretty much it.
4. Complaining About A Restaurant Being Overrated/Underrated. Of course it is! Anything that's rated is going to be overrated or underrated. That's the way it goes. I don't think Father's Office burger is overrated. I don't care. I just think it's a rip-off.
As an aside, I do enjoy all my dining companions who say that the Father's Office burger is "Good, but not worth the hype." Of course it's not, because (everyone now, all together) IT'S A MOTHERFUCKING BURGER! You're surprised?
That's a dig at the concept, not my friends. I adore my friends. I promise.
5. Bitching About "Incorrect" Ethnicities Cooking Food At Ethnic Restaurants. "Please, any sushi prepared my Mexicans isn't sushi." I've seen that on Yelp! innumerable times. How can that possibly be true? We don't say "any French food prepared by Mexicans isn't French food." Anthony Bourdain will tell you that of anybody he's ever worked with, the Mexicans from Puebla are the most talented cooks he's ever encountered. The current chef at Les Halles hails from Puebla.
It really smacks of racism. And it's the worst kind of racism: the racism from people who would be shocked and appalled to be called racist because they're worldly, liberal, support amnesty for illegal immigrants, and voted Green. So why don't you want brown people making your sushi? Why can it only be magical Asians?
After having worked in restaurants for so long, I'm skeptical of any skinny white kid wearing a "Le Cordon Bleu" culinary school jacket than I am of a Latin American, regardless of cuisine.
Yeah sure there's a cultural mystique around sushi, but unless you're going to one of those hallowed bastions of traditional Japanese dining and spending $100 a person you're not going to be getting an "authentic" Japanese experience anyway. Hell, when I went to Sebo I was served by the Japanese sushi chef, but it sure as hell looked like the white sushi chef serving the couples at the other end of the bar was quicker, more intense, and had better presentation skills. People are people, some are more talented, experienced, and better trained than others. Little if any of that has to do with race, culture, or gender.
And can we really trust all the rules of a culinary culture whose de facto prohibition of female sushi chefs was supported by the assertion that a woman's hands are too warm and would "cook" the fish in preparation?
I'm going to piggyback on this rant a rant against people who make a personal cultural identification claim to support their dismissal of a restaurant. Things like "My Tia Maria made me tamales growing up and these are NOT authentic tamales" or "My grandma is from Ireland and this was NOT real Irish soda bread" or "I dated a Korean chick once and this Bi Bim Bap sucks worse than she did." Why the fuck should I care? I don't know your Tia Maria. Maybe she sucked at making tamales. Maybe your Irish grandma used too much baking soda. And maybe that Korean chick had herpes.
Unless your assertion is "I've been a working food critic in Mexico City for ten years and have eaten at a broad assortment of that nation's finest restaurants and this American restaurant that makes a claim to provide that same type of cuisine falls far short of that aim," I don't care.
And a Subset-A piggyback on that piggyback point point, can we stop with this myth that "In Mexico, they don't actually eat spicy food." In Mexico they probably don't use the pure capsicum extract hot sauces that are popular among a certain American "let's see who has the bigger dick based on our ability to tolerate spiciness" culture, but they do use a lot of chili peppers. And every staff meal the guys in the kitchen made at the restaurants I've worked have been close to face-meltingly spicy. Do some people in Mexico not eat spicy food? I imagine so. Some people in America don't eat spicy food too.
You see, not everyone in Mexico is a tequila-drinking, sombrero-wearing, jalapeno-chomping stereotype.
Just as not every American is an obese, sandal-and-gym sock wearing, xenophobic, unworldly ignoramus.
I'd wager it's probably a helluvalot easier to find the latter before the former though.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
HFF Has Lunch: Govinda's - Los Angeles Ca
I never had Thai Temple brunch.
That's right, I admit it. For some reason I never had the urge to drag my ass out of bed early on a Sunday to then drive way out into West Berkeley to then circle for parking for twenty minutes to then stand in a long line around really really really (really) ugly Berkeleyans, so I could THEN get what I can only assume will be competent home-cooked Thai food for a relatively low price.
After reading some Yelp! reviews of the Thai Temple, I can assume that my experience at Govinda's here in LA was pretty much exactly the same, only with vegetarian Indian food in the place of Thai cuisine.
When I moved to LA, I moved to an area called "Palms." Palms is considered the last "ungentrified" area of the Westside, though admittedly it looks pretty g-d gentrified to me. I suppose that the the fact that 92% of Palms residents live in apartment buildings prevents the inevitable influx of Persian Palaces and McMansions. Still, I do like it here because there is a nice diversity, it's very close to trendy downtown Culver City, and it lets me take surface streets or I-10 to most of my necessary destinations, eliminating the dreaded 405 and 101 commutes.
The other exciting part? I live about a block from the biggest International Society for Krishna Consciousness center (read "Hare Krishna Temple") in California. When I go for my morning (okay, late morning) jog, I dart past innumerable saffron-robed white men with shaved heads and the, surprisingly enough, occasional Indian woman.
It's kinda nice. The Society also owns several of the apartment buildings on my block and everything is kept pretty neat and tidy. And the temple has a restaurant serving up lunch and dinner in buffet form every day of the week.
Once-a-week Thai Brunch can suck it.
For $6 I get either a dine-in plate or a to-go box loaded with Indian food from a buffet. I'm told that during the week they also operate a takeout stand with sandwiches and roti wraps. This stand was closed when I went.
After entering the temple, I stood in a relatively short line behind a woman who looked a lot like what dirty middle-aged white collar hippy douchebags in Berkeley would look like if they actually exercised, wore make-up, and cared how they dressed. But looking presentable can only go so far as I had to listen to her attempt to make friends with every person who served her and had to watch her as she stuck her hand underneath the sneeze guard and pointed with her finger at every item she wanted.
There are only, like, six things, so I don't see the need for such an invasive examination.
Anyway, I was greeted by a surly Indian gentleman (the only one--everyone else working behind the counter were earnest young European-Americans). He scooped some Jasmine rice on my plate, added some Dal, a couple pakora, some stewed cauliflower, a potato and cabbage dish, and some other very yellowish green vegetable items.
It's a well known fact that religious cults (and prisons) keep their members (prisoners) in thrall partly through sensory deprivation.
I can see how after eating Govinda's food for any period of time, even the mindless chanting of "hare krsna hare krsna krsna krsna hare hare hare rama hare rama rama rama hare hare" might be exciting.
Where's the fucking flavor people? We're talking Indian food here! Up there with Ethiopian in terms of spice per square inch! Unfortunately the Krsna folks don't believe in onions, garlic, and (one would presume) salt, three ingredients which have done more for providing pleasure to the masses than the Dolphin Vibrator, Hitachi Magic Wand, and me combined.
I'm not going to say the food was bad. It wasn't. It was decent. It was the type of food that I'd expect a modestly skilled family in India to prepare on a daily basis. And it was only $6, so who am I to complain?
I wouldn't be complaining were it not for the glowing reviews of this place on Yelp! and other sites. This just reinforces my opinion that the Powers That Be on the Internet (middle class and wealthier whites and east Asians) find things produced by those not in the Powers That Be on the Internet (poor whites and other minorities) absolutely fascinating and worthy of praise when in fact they're probably no different than yourselves, except that their moms can't afford to grab takeout or Costco lasagna for every meal and instead have to, you know, cook a meal with cheap staples instead.
My food from Govinda's was strikingly lacking in, well, flavor. It just tasted like potatoes, cabbage, chickpeas, et al. These things are really really bland by themselves. They take great to spices, which is why Indian food is able to create magic from these bland components, but if you're unwilling to saturate them in spices and ghee, well, then they just taste like "meh."
The dal was respectably okay, the caulflower and zucchini dish was very bitter, the cabbage and potato dish was pleasantly wholesome, the pakora weren't crisp, and the roti was decent.
I'm not saying it was a bad meal! I'm not!
I'm saying it was a mediocre meal, worthy of it's $6 price tag, but not worthy of its innumerable praise on Yelp! by any means. I can toss a bunch of vegetables in a pot with spices and create a reasonable approximation of the food at Govinda's, devotion to God or not.
And it should be mentioned that Indian buffets in the $10 range offer a marked step up in quality, variety, and complexity.
That being said, I'm glad Govinda's is there and I imagine I'll make a return trip. I mean, you can't fault the place for producing a cheap product of respectable quality. I can only fault the innumerable douche bags who vaunt this meal as somehow better than their local fine dining restaurants, or even on par with a modest for-profit Indian buffet.
It's mediocre and inexpensive. That's it.
Govinda's
3764 Watseka Avenue
Los Angeles, Ca • 90034
310-836-1269
www.govindasla.com
That's right, I admit it. For some reason I never had the urge to drag my ass out of bed early on a Sunday to then drive way out into West Berkeley to then circle for parking for twenty minutes to then stand in a long line around really really really (really) ugly Berkeleyans, so I could THEN get what I can only assume will be competent home-cooked Thai food for a relatively low price.
After reading some Yelp! reviews of the Thai Temple, I can assume that my experience at Govinda's here in LA was pretty much exactly the same, only with vegetarian Indian food in the place of Thai cuisine.
When I moved to LA, I moved to an area called "Palms." Palms is considered the last "ungentrified" area of the Westside, though admittedly it looks pretty g-d gentrified to me. I suppose that the the fact that 92% of Palms residents live in apartment buildings prevents the inevitable influx of Persian Palaces and McMansions. Still, I do like it here because there is a nice diversity, it's very close to trendy downtown Culver City, and it lets me take surface streets or I-10 to most of my necessary destinations, eliminating the dreaded 405 and 101 commutes.
The other exciting part? I live about a block from the biggest International Society for Krishna Consciousness center (read "Hare Krishna Temple") in California. When I go for my morning (okay, late morning) jog, I dart past innumerable saffron-robed white men with shaved heads and the, surprisingly enough, occasional Indian woman.
It's kinda nice. The Society also owns several of the apartment buildings on my block and everything is kept pretty neat and tidy. And the temple has a restaurant serving up lunch and dinner in buffet form every day of the week.
Once-a-week Thai Brunch can suck it.
For $6 I get either a dine-in plate or a to-go box loaded with Indian food from a buffet. I'm told that during the week they also operate a takeout stand with sandwiches and roti wraps. This stand was closed when I went.
After entering the temple, I stood in a relatively short line behind a woman who looked a lot like what dirty middle-aged white collar hippy douchebags in Berkeley would look like if they actually exercised, wore make-up, and cared how they dressed. But looking presentable can only go so far as I had to listen to her attempt to make friends with every person who served her and had to watch her as she stuck her hand underneath the sneeze guard and pointed with her finger at every item she wanted.
There are only, like, six things, so I don't see the need for such an invasive examination.
Anyway, I was greeted by a surly Indian gentleman (the only one--everyone else working behind the counter were earnest young European-Americans). He scooped some Jasmine rice on my plate, added some Dal, a couple pakora, some stewed cauliflower, a potato and cabbage dish, and some other very yellowish green vegetable items.
It's a well known fact that religious cults (and prisons) keep their members (prisoners) in thrall partly through sensory deprivation.
I can see how after eating Govinda's food for any period of time, even the mindless chanting of "hare krsna hare krsna krsna krsna hare hare hare rama hare rama rama rama hare hare" might be exciting.
Where's the fucking flavor people? We're talking Indian food here! Up there with Ethiopian in terms of spice per square inch! Unfortunately the Krsna folks don't believe in onions, garlic, and (one would presume) salt, three ingredients which have done more for providing pleasure to the masses than the Dolphin Vibrator, Hitachi Magic Wand, and me combined.
I'm not going to say the food was bad. It wasn't. It was decent. It was the type of food that I'd expect a modestly skilled family in India to prepare on a daily basis. And it was only $6, so who am I to complain?
I wouldn't be complaining were it not for the glowing reviews of this place on Yelp! and other sites. This just reinforces my opinion that the Powers That Be on the Internet (middle class and wealthier whites and east Asians) find things produced by those not in the Powers That Be on the Internet (poor whites and other minorities) absolutely fascinating and worthy of praise when in fact they're probably no different than yourselves, except that their moms can't afford to grab takeout or Costco lasagna for every meal and instead have to, you know, cook a meal with cheap staples instead.
My food from Govinda's was strikingly lacking in, well, flavor. It just tasted like potatoes, cabbage, chickpeas, et al. These things are really really bland by themselves. They take great to spices, which is why Indian food is able to create magic from these bland components, but if you're unwilling to saturate them in spices and ghee, well, then they just taste like "meh."
The dal was respectably okay, the caulflower and zucchini dish was very bitter, the cabbage and potato dish was pleasantly wholesome, the pakora weren't crisp, and the roti was decent.
I'm not saying it was a bad meal! I'm not!
I'm saying it was a mediocre meal, worthy of it's $6 price tag, but not worthy of its innumerable praise on Yelp! by any means. I can toss a bunch of vegetables in a pot with spices and create a reasonable approximation of the food at Govinda's, devotion to God or not.
And it should be mentioned that Indian buffets in the $10 range offer a marked step up in quality, variety, and complexity.
That being said, I'm glad Govinda's is there and I imagine I'll make a return trip. I mean, you can't fault the place for producing a cheap product of respectable quality. I can only fault the innumerable douche bags who vaunt this meal as somehow better than their local fine dining restaurants, or even on par with a modest for-profit Indian buffet.
It's mediocre and inexpensive. That's it.
Govinda's
3764 Watseka Avenue
Los Angeles, Ca • 90034
310-836-1269
www.govindasla.com
Friday, May 30, 2008
Imitation, Flattery, and Everything in Between
Are you familiar with the concept of the "Plague Doctor?"
In the 14th century dudes dressed up in a long overcoat and leather breeches sealed with wax or suet, donned a wide-brimmed black cap and a freaky bird-beak mask stuffed with aromatic herbs and which had red glass lenses over the eyes. They went around town with a long stick and poked sick people to determine whether or not they had the plague.
Some people say the outfit had mystical properties to draw out illness when in fact it probably had the very real property of protecting the doctor while simultaneously making him a handy disease vector as he roamed around town in his leather and animal fat outfit, high off of rosemary fumes.
A Plague Doctor probably looked like this:
The inimitable style of the Plague Doctor would then be oft-imitated by many a goth or medieval fetishist, while also making for a pretty spooky Halloween costume.
The Plague Doctor costume is number two on the list of "What to Wear to a Party to get a Chubby Goth Girl to Go Home With You." Number three on the list is Ogre from Skinny Puppy strapped to your back. Number one on the list is a Fine Christmas Ham.
What's my point in this random madness? Why it's an opportunity for me to discuss yet another interesting distinction that I see in the restaurant business here in LA versus back home in San Francisco.
For those of you not attuned to the obtuse clues I've been leaving, I moved to Los Angeles about a month ago.
In SF very few restaurants would deign to serve something that another restaurant also was serving, unless said item came from that Hallowed Pantheon of Culinary Things--fish and chips is a "thing," steak frites is a "thing," foie gras and brioche is a "thing," roast chicken and bread salad is a "thing," et al.
But say a restaurant served some sort of mild white fish crusted with herbs, olives, and bread crumbs, on a bed of fondant leeks; no other restaurant is going to do that. That would be ripping them off. As delicious and simple as portobello fritters are, no other restaurant is going to serve them because that's one of Rivoli's signature dishes.
Though last time I checked fried mushrooms were on the menu at TGI Fridays for a long time.
That's not the case in LA. In fact, you can find certain menu items at many trendy new restaurants (particularly those with a "wine bar" emphasis) in disparate locations. These include blue cheese-stuffed bacon-wrapped dates, truffled grilled cheese sandwich, truffled mac and cheese, truffled frites, and lollipop-style petit lamb chops.
LA, even among the upper-echelon of restaurants, is perfectly willing to do what another restaurant is already doing. Because hey, if it works for them, why not?
While I don't inherently object to this trend, it definitely goes a long way to showing the restaurant's hand. It immediately exposes the restaurant as a place that is all about providing an immediately appealing product for the masses as opposed to a restaurant that wants to provide a innovative quality product. They want to go with what works.
It's sort of a classier version of fried calamari or fried shrimp. It's just something that Joe and Jane Midwest expect to see on the menu at every restaurant, regardless of location or cuisine.
I admire restaurants that don't want to do that. I admire restaurants that offer food that people haven't heard of. I admire restaurants that challenge their diners.
And the funny thing is, a helluva lot more restaurants that cater to the masses got out of business sooner than restaurants that are pushing that oh-so-cliche envelope.
So I raise a proverbial (and literal) glass to those restaurants that achieve success on their own terms. To those restaurants that force their diners to experiment, learn, and enrich. To those restaurants who show their customers that there is more in this world than filet mignon, roast salmon, and Caesar salad.
Cheers.
In the 14th century dudes dressed up in a long overcoat and leather breeches sealed with wax or suet, donned a wide-brimmed black cap and a freaky bird-beak mask stuffed with aromatic herbs and which had red glass lenses over the eyes. They went around town with a long stick and poked sick people to determine whether or not they had the plague.
Some people say the outfit had mystical properties to draw out illness when in fact it probably had the very real property of protecting the doctor while simultaneously making him a handy disease vector as he roamed around town in his leather and animal fat outfit, high off of rosemary fumes.
A Plague Doctor probably looked like this:
The inimitable style of the Plague Doctor would then be oft-imitated by many a goth or medieval fetishist, while also making for a pretty spooky Halloween costume.The Plague Doctor costume is number two on the list of "What to Wear to a Party to get a Chubby Goth Girl to Go Home With You." Number three on the list is Ogre from Skinny Puppy strapped to your back. Number one on the list is a Fine Christmas Ham.
What's my point in this random madness? Why it's an opportunity for me to discuss yet another interesting distinction that I see in the restaurant business here in LA versus back home in San Francisco.
For those of you not attuned to the obtuse clues I've been leaving, I moved to Los Angeles about a month ago.
In SF very few restaurants would deign to serve something that another restaurant also was serving, unless said item came from that Hallowed Pantheon of Culinary Things--fish and chips is a "thing," steak frites is a "thing," foie gras and brioche is a "thing," roast chicken and bread salad is a "thing," et al.
But say a restaurant served some sort of mild white fish crusted with herbs, olives, and bread crumbs, on a bed of fondant leeks; no other restaurant is going to do that. That would be ripping them off. As delicious and simple as portobello fritters are, no other restaurant is going to serve them because that's one of Rivoli's signature dishes.
Though last time I checked fried mushrooms were on the menu at TGI Fridays for a long time.
That's not the case in LA. In fact, you can find certain menu items at many trendy new restaurants (particularly those with a "wine bar" emphasis) in disparate locations. These include blue cheese-stuffed bacon-wrapped dates, truffled grilled cheese sandwich, truffled mac and cheese, truffled frites, and lollipop-style petit lamb chops.
LA, even among the upper-echelon of restaurants, is perfectly willing to do what another restaurant is already doing. Because hey, if it works for them, why not?
While I don't inherently object to this trend, it definitely goes a long way to showing the restaurant's hand. It immediately exposes the restaurant as a place that is all about providing an immediately appealing product for the masses as opposed to a restaurant that wants to provide a innovative quality product. They want to go with what works.
It's sort of a classier version of fried calamari or fried shrimp. It's just something that Joe and Jane Midwest expect to see on the menu at every restaurant, regardless of location or cuisine.
I admire restaurants that don't want to do that. I admire restaurants that offer food that people haven't heard of. I admire restaurants that challenge their diners.
And the funny thing is, a helluva lot more restaurants that cater to the masses got out of business sooner than restaurants that are pushing that oh-so-cliche envelope.
So I raise a proverbial (and literal) glass to those restaurants that achieve success on their own terms. To those restaurants that force their diners to experiment, learn, and enrich. To those restaurants who show their customers that there is more in this world than filet mignon, roast salmon, and Caesar salad.
Cheers.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Grapes: The Next Generation
Many people come up to me and ask: "Hey Dave, what're the next hot wine grapes?" And I tell them "Hey, what the fuck are you doing in my dream?"
And while grapes and Star Trek may share nothing more than the smooth roundness of Patrick Stewart's cranium, here're the grapes that I think will be the next big things.
First, let me say that I'm ruling out all the grapes that others have already been called "the next Chardonnay" or "the next Pinot Noir." These grapes are: Albarino, Gruner Veltliner, and Hondarobbi Zuri/Txakoli (white) and Grenache, Tempranillo, and Carignane (red).
On to my picks.
The whites:
Godello. This floral and crisp Spanish varietal is going to be the next rock star wine. It's brisk and zippy like Albarino or Gruner Veltliner, but more strongly floral like a good Riesling or Semillon. It's swiggity swiggity awesome. You thought I was going to say sweet?
Verdejo. So yeah, "Rueda" isn't a grape, it's a region. In most instances Verdejo is the grape that you mean. So ask for a Verdejo. Some examples are crisp and clean like a lean Sauvignon Blanc, others can have a more pronounced tropical fruit character like... a more tropical fruit-heavy Sauvignon Blanc. But it's not like a Sauvignon Blanc, I swear! Did I mention that Rueda also grows excellent Sauvignon Blanc?
Maria Gomes. Sure it might sound like a Univision soap opera star, but this Portuguese Muscat cultivar is pretty freakin' great. It's dry without being overly acidic, has a nice softness and a fuller mouthfeel. Some of the best examples taste like a nice white Bordeaux. It also takes well to sparkling treatments, tasting somewhat like a Cremant d'Alsace or a drier Sekt. Some of the finer examples compare favorably to Champagne for a fraction of the price.
And now, the red wines.
Let me just say that I think we're going to see red blends make a push for dominance over single-varietal wines in the near future. Red wines, more so than white, take well to blending to temper the strengths and mask the weaknesses of the individual varietals. Blends to watch out for:
Port-style blends in table wine. Many of the Port varietals (Touriga Nacional, Tinta Roriz, Tinta Franca, Tinta Barroca, Tinta Cao) make excellent dry table wines. Besides Tinta Roriz (which is the Portuguese name for Tempranillo), Touriga Nacional and Tinta Franca blend quite well together and with Tinta Roriz. These wines typically have nice plum-y fruit, good light tannins, and a food-friendly acidity.
Spanish red blends. Sure Spain makes excellent single-varietal Tempranillo, Garnacha, et al, but the blends are where value can really be found. Look for Garnacha-heavy blends that may also utilize classic varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Syrah. Capcanes and Montsant are two good regions with quite a few experimental bodegas.
And then two single varietals to watch out for:
Mourvedre. This oft-marginalized Rhone varietal is only given a regular opportunity to express itself in the red wines of Bandol in Provence and the wines of coastal northeastern Spain (where it's known as Monastrell). A few California vineyards in hot Contra Costa County and the Central Valley around Lodi are growing Mourvedre with some solid results. When given the chance to ripen properly, Mourvedre presents solid fruit, smoke, and dusty earth. It's higher yielding nature means it should always offer a quality wine for the price.
Tannat. Uruguayan Tannat will be the next Argentinian Malbec. Another instance of a Latin American country embracing a marginal French grape with excellent results. When grown in Uruguay, Tannat loses much of it's grippy tannic edge and instead presents a medium bodied, firmly structured wine with lightly steeped tannins and a surprising minerality. Production currently isn't enough to push prices down to Argentinian levels of five years ago, but superb examples can be found for $15-$20 retail. You can also find excellent (and much fuller-bodied) Tannats from the subregions of Madiran and Irouleguy in France. These can offer some of the finest values in French wine.
You heard it here first. I'm calling it now. This is my 1982 vintage.
And while grapes and Star Trek may share nothing more than the smooth roundness of Patrick Stewart's cranium, here're the grapes that I think will be the next big things.
First, let me say that I'm ruling out all the grapes that others have already been called "the next Chardonnay" or "the next Pinot Noir." These grapes are: Albarino, Gruner Veltliner, and Hondarobbi Zuri/Txakoli (white) and Grenache, Tempranillo, and Carignane (red).
On to my picks.
The whites:
Godello. This floral and crisp Spanish varietal is going to be the next rock star wine. It's brisk and zippy like Albarino or Gruner Veltliner, but more strongly floral like a good Riesling or Semillon. It's swiggity swiggity awesome. You thought I was going to say sweet?
Verdejo. So yeah, "Rueda" isn't a grape, it's a region. In most instances Verdejo is the grape that you mean. So ask for a Verdejo. Some examples are crisp and clean like a lean Sauvignon Blanc, others can have a more pronounced tropical fruit character like... a more tropical fruit-heavy Sauvignon Blanc. But it's not like a Sauvignon Blanc, I swear! Did I mention that Rueda also grows excellent Sauvignon Blanc?
Maria Gomes. Sure it might sound like a Univision soap opera star, but this Portuguese Muscat cultivar is pretty freakin' great. It's dry without being overly acidic, has a nice softness and a fuller mouthfeel. Some of the best examples taste like a nice white Bordeaux. It also takes well to sparkling treatments, tasting somewhat like a Cremant d'Alsace or a drier Sekt. Some of the finer examples compare favorably to Champagne for a fraction of the price.
And now, the red wines.
Let me just say that I think we're going to see red blends make a push for dominance over single-varietal wines in the near future. Red wines, more so than white, take well to blending to temper the strengths and mask the weaknesses of the individual varietals. Blends to watch out for:
Port-style blends in table wine. Many of the Port varietals (Touriga Nacional, Tinta Roriz, Tinta Franca, Tinta Barroca, Tinta Cao) make excellent dry table wines. Besides Tinta Roriz (which is the Portuguese name for Tempranillo), Touriga Nacional and Tinta Franca blend quite well together and with Tinta Roriz. These wines typically have nice plum-y fruit, good light tannins, and a food-friendly acidity.
Spanish red blends. Sure Spain makes excellent single-varietal Tempranillo, Garnacha, et al, but the blends are where value can really be found. Look for Garnacha-heavy blends that may also utilize classic varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Syrah. Capcanes and Montsant are two good regions with quite a few experimental bodegas.
And then two single varietals to watch out for:
Mourvedre. This oft-marginalized Rhone varietal is only given a regular opportunity to express itself in the red wines of Bandol in Provence and the wines of coastal northeastern Spain (where it's known as Monastrell). A few California vineyards in hot Contra Costa County and the Central Valley around Lodi are growing Mourvedre with some solid results. When given the chance to ripen properly, Mourvedre presents solid fruit, smoke, and dusty earth. It's higher yielding nature means it should always offer a quality wine for the price.
Tannat. Uruguayan Tannat will be the next Argentinian Malbec. Another instance of a Latin American country embracing a marginal French grape with excellent results. When grown in Uruguay, Tannat loses much of it's grippy tannic edge and instead presents a medium bodied, firmly structured wine with lightly steeped tannins and a surprising minerality. Production currently isn't enough to push prices down to Argentinian levels of five years ago, but superb examples can be found for $15-$20 retail. You can also find excellent (and much fuller-bodied) Tannats from the subregions of Madiran and Irouleguy in France. These can offer some of the finest values in French wine.
You heard it here first. I'm calling it now. This is my 1982 vintage.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Organic, Sustainable, Biodynamic, Sulfite-Free
In Berkeley, these four words, Organic, Sustainable, Biodynamic, and Sulfite-Free have become commonly heard in wine shops and restaurants.
Here's the problem. Nobody has any fucking clue what they mean.
I've long said that wine is a drink you can feel good about, assuming we mean small-production wine and not massive factory-farmed estates.
Good wine grapes grow in soil that is otherwise not particularly great for anything else. It is a quickly renewable crop that doesn't damage soil. Vineyards can prevent erosion and create natural firebreaks. And many many vineyards dry farm their grapes, meaning that no additional irrigation takes place. Even if irrigation does take place it's in most instances negligible when compared to many other crops.
Most importantly, grapes aren't a staple crop, so consumption of wine (as opposed to say, beer) isn't contributing to the rapid price inflation coupled (strangely) with rampant subsidizing of staple grains.
But there's nothing wrong with seeking out wines with these descriptors, but before you just go out searching for these products, here's a basic layman's rundown:
1. Organic. Organic wine means just what it means when we're talking about other produce. The grapes are grown according to one of the many organic certifying-organizations, most commonly the USDA, Oregon Tilth, or CCOF. Note that truly "organic wines" are very rare as the United States prohibits the addition of sulfites in organic wines (even though sulfur dioxide itself can be organic and has been used for centuries) and other aspects of the wine making are restricted. It is much more common to see "wine made from organic grapes." You can feel equally good about either. In most instances organic grape wines will be superior to fully organic wines, as the lack of sulfur will reduce stability and increase the likelihood of spoilage.
2. Sustainable. Sustainable is a bit more nebulous term as there are very few regulatory bodies. Sustainability means that the wine makers ascribe to basic fundamentals about responsible farming practices, utilizing organic pesticides and natural pest controls. But it's hard to know if a winery is merely playing lip service to sustainability or actually providing an environmentally conscious product. There is a voluntary sustainable-certification organization in Sonoma County and a government certification in Spain. There may be others, but I'm not aware of them.
3. Biodynamic. Okay, this is a weird one. Biodynamic isn't just organic, and in many instances biodynamic isn't organic due to the aforementioned sulfur problem. Biodynamic means the grape growers and wine makers practiced farming and wine making practices that are certified by the international Demeter association. The vast majority of biodynamics is medieval-era geomancy. Included in biodynamics are the planting of a horn full of manure in your vineyard, treating pest problems by burning one of said pests, mixing it with wet sulfur (gee, I wonder why this worked), and then casting it on the grapes.
Oh, and by the way, if there is a field mouse problem you're supposed to scatter the ashes of field mouse skin in the vineyard...when Venus is in the Scorpio constellation, just to be sage about it. Biodynamics is a big scam with no real significance to wine making except that 1, you know that your wine is made completely naturally, and 2, the process is so detailed that you know that the vineyard managers at least have to pay very close attention. It doesn't mean they're GOOD grape growers, but at least they're paying attention.
4. Sulfite-Free. You will find very few sulfite-free wines. There's a reason for this, for a wine to be sulfite-free it actually needs to undergo a sulfite-removal process. Now that's hardly naturally, isn't it? One of the reasons we can make wine is that grapes have a decent amount of naturally-occurring sulfur dioxide on their skin. Many fruits do (apricots most significantly). This sulfur dioxide is a natural defense from disease and rot. It's a preservative.
The reason we can make raisins right out in the sun without having to add sulfur or acid to the grapes is because of this sulfur. The reason pressed grape juice can ferment into tasty wine instead of rotting into spoiled juice is because of the sulfur dioxide and to a lesser extent, tannins.
Are there people who are sensitive to sulfur, even deathly allergic? Sure. But there are a whole fuck ton more people who just think they are because it's yet another thing they can feel special about.
How do I know this? Two reasons. Most people who claim sulfite-sensitivity also note they have more of a problem with red wine than white wine. This is retarded. There are more sulfites in white wine than red wine. Red wine has more natural preservative from the tannins than in white wine, so white wine requires additional sulfur dioxide. Secondly, most people describe their sulfite-sensitivity as causing headaches. This is also retarded. Sulfite-sensitivity manifests in respiratory problems, not headaches.
Many wines in Europe that are drunk domestically and meant to be consumed within a year or two don't often have added sulfur since the natural sulfites will be enough of a preservative for that short period, but wine that is meant to endure the trials of shipping and export and the rigors of aging require sulfites or this wine will spoil. Period.
And then if a wine has no sulfites at all it becomes very unstable even for short periods of time and really won't last more than six months if you're lucky.
So yeah, you know what? If you actually have a legitimate sulfur allergy, then don't drink wine. Sorry. Drink beer, spirits, kombucha whatever. And if you DON'T have a sulfur allergy (and most of you don't) then just get over it and enjoy. Why waste so much time worrying when you can just enjoy yourself?
I'm convinced that people use "sulfur" as an excuse to hide their hang-ups about drinking. It's a way to self-regulate something without having to assume personal responsibility.
Here's the problem. Nobody has any fucking clue what they mean.
I've long said that wine is a drink you can feel good about, assuming we mean small-production wine and not massive factory-farmed estates.
Good wine grapes grow in soil that is otherwise not particularly great for anything else. It is a quickly renewable crop that doesn't damage soil. Vineyards can prevent erosion and create natural firebreaks. And many many vineyards dry farm their grapes, meaning that no additional irrigation takes place. Even if irrigation does take place it's in most instances negligible when compared to many other crops.
Most importantly, grapes aren't a staple crop, so consumption of wine (as opposed to say, beer) isn't contributing to the rapid price inflation coupled (strangely) with rampant subsidizing of staple grains.
But there's nothing wrong with seeking out wines with these descriptors, but before you just go out searching for these products, here's a basic layman's rundown:
1. Organic. Organic wine means just what it means when we're talking about other produce. The grapes are grown according to one of the many organic certifying-organizations, most commonly the USDA, Oregon Tilth, or CCOF. Note that truly "organic wines" are very rare as the United States prohibits the addition of sulfites in organic wines (even though sulfur dioxide itself can be organic and has been used for centuries) and other aspects of the wine making are restricted. It is much more common to see "wine made from organic grapes." You can feel equally good about either. In most instances organic grape wines will be superior to fully organic wines, as the lack of sulfur will reduce stability and increase the likelihood of spoilage.
2. Sustainable. Sustainable is a bit more nebulous term as there are very few regulatory bodies. Sustainability means that the wine makers ascribe to basic fundamentals about responsible farming practices, utilizing organic pesticides and natural pest controls. But it's hard to know if a winery is merely playing lip service to sustainability or actually providing an environmentally conscious product. There is a voluntary sustainable-certification organization in Sonoma County and a government certification in Spain. There may be others, but I'm not aware of them.
3. Biodynamic. Okay, this is a weird one. Biodynamic isn't just organic, and in many instances biodynamic isn't organic due to the aforementioned sulfur problem. Biodynamic means the grape growers and wine makers practiced farming and wine making practices that are certified by the international Demeter association. The vast majority of biodynamics is medieval-era geomancy. Included in biodynamics are the planting of a horn full of manure in your vineyard, treating pest problems by burning one of said pests, mixing it with wet sulfur (gee, I wonder why this worked), and then casting it on the grapes.
Oh, and by the way, if there is a field mouse problem you're supposed to scatter the ashes of field mouse skin in the vineyard...when Venus is in the Scorpio constellation, just to be sage about it. Biodynamics is a big scam with no real significance to wine making except that 1, you know that your wine is made completely naturally, and 2, the process is so detailed that you know that the vineyard managers at least have to pay very close attention. It doesn't mean they're GOOD grape growers, but at least they're paying attention.
4. Sulfite-Free. You will find very few sulfite-free wines. There's a reason for this, for a wine to be sulfite-free it actually needs to undergo a sulfite-removal process. Now that's hardly naturally, isn't it? One of the reasons we can make wine is that grapes have a decent amount of naturally-occurring sulfur dioxide on their skin. Many fruits do (apricots most significantly). This sulfur dioxide is a natural defense from disease and rot. It's a preservative.
The reason we can make raisins right out in the sun without having to add sulfur or acid to the grapes is because of this sulfur. The reason pressed grape juice can ferment into tasty wine instead of rotting into spoiled juice is because of the sulfur dioxide and to a lesser extent, tannins.
Are there people who are sensitive to sulfur, even deathly allergic? Sure. But there are a whole fuck ton more people who just think they are because it's yet another thing they can feel special about.
How do I know this? Two reasons. Most people who claim sulfite-sensitivity also note they have more of a problem with red wine than white wine. This is retarded. There are more sulfites in white wine than red wine. Red wine has more natural preservative from the tannins than in white wine, so white wine requires additional sulfur dioxide. Secondly, most people describe their sulfite-sensitivity as causing headaches. This is also retarded. Sulfite-sensitivity manifests in respiratory problems, not headaches.
Many wines in Europe that are drunk domestically and meant to be consumed within a year or two don't often have added sulfur since the natural sulfites will be enough of a preservative for that short period, but wine that is meant to endure the trials of shipping and export and the rigors of aging require sulfites or this wine will spoil. Period.
And then if a wine has no sulfites at all it becomes very unstable even for short periods of time and really won't last more than six months if you're lucky.
So yeah, you know what? If you actually have a legitimate sulfur allergy, then don't drink wine. Sorry. Drink beer, spirits, kombucha whatever. And if you DON'T have a sulfur allergy (and most of you don't) then just get over it and enjoy. Why waste so much time worrying when you can just enjoy yourself?
I'm convinced that people use "sulfur" as an excuse to hide their hang-ups about drinking. It's a way to self-regulate something without having to assume personal responsibility.
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