Poke Poke

I have a good friend who is decidedly NOT a foodie.  (I know, shocking, right?)  I suspect he may be an over-taster—someone who doesn’t like spicy food or very seasoned, flavorful food because it actually overwhelms his palate in an unpleasant way.  Why do I have these suspicions?  Well, when asked what his favorite food is, my friend, who has eaten at some very nice restaurants, says he would probably just eat Subway sandwiches and Domino’s Pizza for every meal if he didn’t have to take his girlfriend out.  When my husband and I talk about how much we love a sandwich from GTA, for example, our friend suggests that we’re just posturing about loving this sandwich, and if he traded it out for a Subway sandwich and told us it was a $12 sandwich from GTA, we wouldn’t know the difference.

This is obviously patently untrue.  I am currently imagining a hilarious blind taste test.  Then again, I might have to eat my words—I once saw an episode of Shahs of Sunset in which a bunch of the cast members claimed that in a blind taste test they could easily distinguish Dom Perignon and Cristal from André, and some of them were embarrassingly unsuccessful.  I mean, one girl thought they were all André, so that’s a little disconcerting.

Anyway, I think it probably goes without saying that I don’t often turn to this friend for restaurant recommendations.  He often used to turn to me for recommendations when he was dating and needed a good spot to take a girl who, presumably, possessed taste buds.  But to my surprise, he actually turned me on recently to a great spot in Venice.  It’s a little window on Ocean Front Walk, and it specializes in something I don’t often find in LA: Poke.

Poke is that Hawaiian mainstay consisting of big chunks of sushi grade ahi tuna, marinated in some sort of soy or ponzu and citrus, usually with avocado, sesame seeds, and scallions.  I don’t always think about poke when I am considering what to get for lunch, probably because it’s not prevalent here, so it’s not on my mind.  But really, it’s such a great dish to add into your lunch rotation.  It’s full of protein and healthy fats, it’s light and delicious, and it’s a nice deviation from my usual lunch of salad, salad, or maybe salad. 

Poke Poke is the brainchild of Hawaiian native and now Venice denizen Jason McVearry, and his wife, Trish.  I love how they describe what poke is to Hawaiians, so I’m just going to let you read their version here.  Basically it reminds me of how fast food works in Japan—in Tokyo, eating food from a convenience store is not gross.  It’s completely normal.  You can stop in to a 7-11-style convenience store in Japan and pick up a nice little bento box, omusubi, or oden, pack it up for your lunch, and be set.  In Hawaii, where the food is so heavily influenced by Japanese cuisine anyhow, poke is a casual dish one can pick up in a convenience store, too.  That’s right—raw fish from a convenience store.  But it’s Hawaii!  Fish is fresh and local, and the dish is simple, yet elegant.

I would not encourage anyone to eat poke from a California 7-11.  But I would certainly encourage everyone to visit Poke Poke and customize the perfect little takeout package of poke—they can do it spicy, small or large, with or without rice, topped with avocado, masago, and any number of variations.  You can even get Macadamia nuts on your poke.  My favorite is the Aloha Poke with avocado and jalapeño.  Everything is affordable, especially if you get it with rice instead of all fish—the large poke bowl with rice is only $11; just $7 for the small.

There are a couple of options for vegetarians, including a large acai bowl for $6 with big chunks of coconut and bananas and granola.  I would just suggest asking that they go light on the honey in the acai bowl—it’s nice, but it kind of takes over the flavor profiles of the light, fruity sorbet base.

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Considering we seem to be having an LA summer that just won’t quit, a frozen acai bowl or a scoop of lightly marinated ahi sounds like an absolutely perfect lunch.  Take a walk down the beach as you eat to complete the Hawaii-in-LA experience.  As a bonus, the flies won’t bother you that way.  You’ll…know what I mean.

Check out my Instagram (@laon20aday) for pics from lunch with my friend and Oahu-native, Z, who I took with me to authenticate this beachside fish shack.  It’s Hawaiian-approved!

Another Kind of Sunrise

I recently read this Vice article, my hands-down favorite thing I’ve read on the internet this year, in which the brilliantly witty author, Jamie Lee Curtis Taete, laments the loss of the truly “weird” to the realm of hipness.  The article hits such a sweet, perfect note, pinpointing something that’s happening right now in popular culture, while maintaining a fresh and authentic voice.  And it’s so true—as Taete puts it, “weirdness, once a pursuit for outsiders, is now cooked up by teams of market researchers, to be regurgitated by the Old Spice Guy or the Geico Gecko…it’s impossible to visit a ‘hidden gem’ without being surrounded by other curiosity seekers Instagramming pics of themselves in official merchandise purchased from the suddenly savvy owners.”

I was immediately reminded of a perfect example of this phenomenon that my husband and I had recently experienced.  We were in Tokyo last November, and made a point of visiting an attraction that seemed like the epitome of that perverse and strange Tokyo nightlife one always hears about: a place called Robot Restaurant.  Perhaps you’ve heard of it, as it was featured on an episode of Anthony Bourdain’s newest (and most wonderful) show, Parts Unknown.  Robot Restaurant is not really a restaurant—though one does receive a “bento box,” its contents are certainly not what Michael Pollan would call “food”—but rather, a small underground black box theater, accessible only by a seemingly endless staircase whose walls are eye-boggling neon-backlit murals of flowers and lizards.  In the theater is a boxing ring of sorts, flanked by two seating areas.  The audience of around 100 people sits behind some ornamental chains and watches a show that I could only describe as…weird.  There are strippers, tanks, guys in Iron Man-esque suits on rollerblades, motorcycles, so many flashing lights, dance routines, fight sequences, and finally, giant robots, honestly really impressive in stature and mobility.  They’re the height of 2.5 humans stacked atop one another.  They reach their robot arms across the chains and dangle their robotic fingers inches from your face.  It’s almost terrifying.  Then afterwards, you get to take pictures with them!

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Where am I going with this, you may ask?  I’m getting there, I promise.  You see, when Tony Bourdain went to Robot Restaurant with his crew, I’ll bet it was truly weird and awesome.  And it’s still awesome, it’s just that…it’s now nothing but a Disneyland attraction, with a Japanese twist.  The audience is more than half tourists; and worst of all, in the 8 months since we posted our cleverly edited Instagram video of RR highlights for all of our friends to view with envy, not one, not two, but three friends from college have posted nearly identical Robot Restaurant videos on their Instagrams.  We are not original.  In fact, we are the thrill-seeking young urbanites that are making it un-cool for everyone.  But how am I supposed to experience something truly weird, without being exposed to it through a medium that, like Parts Unknown, tons of other people seeking similarly weird experiences are also exposed to?  Sigh.

Ok, here’s the part where I get to some affordable food in the LA area.  There’s a place in Venice that I think is pretty, well, quirky.  Ok, it’s not Robot Restaurant pre-Bourdain weird.  But it is Venice weird.  It’s a cereal bar called Another Kind of Sunrise.  It is a shack, or a stand, or something, that closes at 2pm, and by then they’ve usually run out of everything.  It’s the kind of place that makes their own nut milk, and a really f-ing good nut milk at that.  It’s sort of around the corner from/hiding a chocolate store that is inside of a rabbit hole/giant hollowed out tree trunk.  It has a neighborhood feel, it’s the domain of the post-yoga-glow chick, the pregnant mommy in a maxi dress, and the bearded swami.

Ok, (you’re going to hear that a lot in this post, I have a lot of caveats.  Deal with it).  So okay, you’re in a little alley on the hippest street in Venice.  You’re just a block or so away from Gjelina, still one of the hottest reservations in town.  And you’re paying the cost of an actual meal ($10) for a smallish paper bowl of raw vegan yogurt and granola.  But it’s worth it.  For starters the paleo granola is straight up delicious.  I have a borderline obsession with it.  When I have to have it, I have to have it.  It’s clusters of different nuts and seeds and it’s sweet and kind of chewy and crunchy at the same time.  I have been known to jump out of a (slowly) moving car and sprint to the stand in order to purchase a cup full of this paleo granola before they close. 

What goes under the granola is up to you—there is the standard option, the Acai cashew yogurt.  Who in LA has not yet had an Acai bowl?  Anyone? But this bowl isn’t your standard issue.  It’s not frozen.  It’s raw, the consistency of yogurt, and lightly refrigerated.  Okay, raw cashew yogurt can make you feel kind of ill if you eat too much of it, especially if you’re not used to a raw vegan diet.  Just warning you.  But it has a really interesting flavor, and I like it a lot, and it’s quite filling.  If the thought of raw cashew yogurt that may or may not make you feel just a tad bit sick to your stomach is not appealing, you may opt for actual cow’s milk (gasp!), or the homemade almond milk instead.  This almond milk is not anything like the stuff you get at the grocery store, that grayish water with a few pulverized almonds in it—it’s creamy and rich and delicious.  It goes really well with the amazing paleo granola, banana, berries, and coconut flakes. 

Their muesli is also downright crave-able.  It is soft and crunchy at the same time, with little puffed rice pieces and oats.  It is not too sweet, just a hint of honey, maybe from the almond milk.  There are plenty of superfruits in there—dried gojis and goldenberries and good-old fashioned raisins for a nice chew. 

A couple more caveats for you: I’m not super familiar with the concept of a paleo diet, so I don’t really know what makes the granola “paleo,” or whether that’s actually good for me.  Also, the stand sells something called Buttery Brew, or as Shailene Woodley and other in-the-know, painfully hip people with first-world problems call it, Bulletproof Coffee.  It’s coffee blended with coconut oil, spices, and ghee.  It’s supposed to be a good way to get all of your healthy fats in the morning so that you don’t crave fat throughout the day.  It’s also one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever put in my mouth.  But hey, that’s just my opinion, man.  Some people swear by it.  The Yelpers certainly like it.  But you know how I feel about Yelp.

So that’s it—that’s my suggestion for you.  Get your raw Acai bowl, sit on a distressed wood bench and scoop up a mouthful with your compostable corn spoon.  Maybe treat yourself to a delicious $4 inch-square biodynamic dark chocolate afterwards from Zenbunni.  It’s imperfect, but it’s wonderfully weird.

Wurstkuche

The Sausage Fest tradition began in college. We frequented a San Francisco eatery called Rosamunde that offered gourmet sausages in all varieties, from Knockwurst to Andouille to Wild Boar. That was a simpler time, when Rosamunde was a standing-room-only unless you want to eat in the bar next door, kind of a place. They have now expanded to four locations, including one in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and they serve brunch. We were going there when the Mission location was still a little seedy, instead of being one of the hippest and most sought-after places to live in the country. But we’re trendsetters that way. We used to buy up a boatload of raw sausages from Rosamunde, bring them back to our apartment off-campus in Menlo Park, where we had furnished a 1000-square foot two-bedroom with one mini-futon from Ikea, a shoddy unfinished birch 4-seater dining table and a small charcoal Weber grill, and we gathered all of our friends for beer and grilled meat. It was a blast. And more importantly, it was a tradition.

In our quest for gourmet sausages worthy of The Fest when we moved to LA, we discovered a holy grail of exotic sausage. Wurstküche goes beyond your average elevated street dog and offers duck and bacon sausages, alligator and pork sausages, even rattlesnake and rabbit sausages. An adventurous eater can go wild here. They still have the classics, of course: a delicious hot Italian, Brats, and I love the buffalo, beef and pork with chipotle peppers. They have a few different tasty chicken and turkey sausages for the Kosher or health-minded among us, and like Rosamunde, they even offer vegan sausages, and not bad ones either. So everyone can get in on the action.

Wurstküche is also housed in a great space, open and airy and light during the day with a nice ivy-lined patio and fire pit, and clubby and hopping at night. The brick interior features a long bar with many, many taps of constantly rotating Belgian and German craft beers, a different glass for each and every one lining the wall. I asked my husband and our friend Mel to join me for an afternoon of sausages and beers at Wurstküche, and I brought my film crew along too so you could experience the delight of Belgian fries, Merguez sausage and Guden beer firsthand. Please enjoy!

Special thanks as always to my crew, the fabulous David and James Codeglia of Ghostlight, and my producer extraordinaire, Hesley Harps.

La Isla Bonita

I am in the middle of reading Ruth Reichl’s memoir, Garlic and Sapphires, in which she strives to convince an old friend to try sushi. Her friend is aghast at the notion of eating raw fish, and proclaims that Ruth will never be able to get her do so, no matter how hard she tries. But that was 1995 in New York City, and this is Los Angeles in 2012, where I imagine that I would be hard pressed to find one solitary soul who would be shocked to know that I am about to recommend eating ceviche out of a truck. That is due in no small part to the proliferation of food truck culture in Los Angeles; at this point you can get anything from currywurst to empanadas to dim sum off of a food truck, and a lot of it is really delicious. But La Isla Bonita is an OG, a real Mexican mariscos truck that has been around since before even Kogi’s conception, a truck that does not tweet its whereabouts but rather can be found every day (except Thursdays) at the intersection of Rose and 4th in Venice. It is there you will find the most incredibly fresh, light ceviche you’ll ever have standing up. The ceviche tostadas consist of a crisp, flat corn tortilla shell topped with a thin layer of perfectly chilled, fresh ceviche. The fish is finely chopped with acid and salt and a little bit of onion, tomato and cilantro—no more. On top there are two thin slices of avocado and a lime wedge, which you should twist over the ceviche. Add a dash of tapatío (or even better, many dashes). The ceviche is pleasantly juicy, and though juices will dribble down your hand, the tostada will not get soggy. There won’t be time. The perfect bite has crunch from the tostada, suppleness from the soft flesh of the fish, the rich creaminess of the avocado, and if you’ve done it right, it’s plenty spicy too. It leaves your lips tingling and your fingers smelling of lime and corn.

There are also the usual taco truck suspects of tacos, burritos and quesadillas stuffed with carne asada or pollo or whatever meat you like, and they’re good. But you are here for the seafood. I love the shrimp tostadas—I admit I sometimes even prefer them to the ceviche. They are a bit more substantial, the tortilla shell spread with a thin layer of crema and a flattened mound of pico de gallo to hold on to the juicy, plump shrimp that cover it. The shrimp are not raw, but they’re very lightly cooked, and incredibly fresh. Again, garnish with lime and tapatío.

I have eaten at many, many food trucks, and as I am sure any LA food lover will already know, a lot of them are great and a lot are second rate imitations of the great ones, and even more are half-baked ideas or non-chefs’ misguided attempts at capitalizing on the food truck craze. But La Isla Bonita is a true delight, a reliably excellent Venice mainstay. And though probably nobody will bat an eye anymore at the idea of uncooked fish from a food truck, you might find yourself surprised at the quality of these tostadas and the simple perfection of their execution, regardless of where they came from.

Gjelina Take Away

I hate how grossly overused this phrase has become, yet the fact remains: we eat with our eyes first. And let me tell you, my eyes devoured the entire display table at the new Gjelina Take Away in Venice. I’ve never seen such attention to detail lavished upon salad presentation. GTA doesn’t just offer a cauliflower salad with salsa verde, they select three colors of cauliflower, the purple, green and orange florets enticing the eye’s palate. Bean salad is piled vertically, smoked almonds tumbling over the lightly dressed yellow and green beans and shaved parmesan. Beet and carrot salad is vibrant with chunks of avocado and a drizzling of yogurt. Every single dish on display is artfully put together, and I appreciate that they showcase the ingredients with an extra respect. I know I’ll be coming back again and again until I’ve had everything. With 90% of the produce coming from California farmers, GTA’s counter is hard-core food porn for locavores. Of course, we also eat with our mouths, and that I did. I greedily dispatched the bean salad, crunching on perfectly crisp stalks and savoring every tart, vinegary, smoky, salty bite. The tuna conserva sandwich on homemade olive batard was stuffed with big chunks of fresh tuna, not flaky crumbles in mayonnaise. Atop the tuna, slices of roasted red peppers add sweetness and fresh peppery arugula lends crunch. The sandwich is moistened with a spread of aioli. It is a delight.

Like Mozza2Go and Charles Phan’s Out the Door in San Francisco, GTA offers a wonderful opportunity to eat master chef creations without the premiums we’re charged for sit-down service. For just $12 at GTA, you can get a trio of salads or any of the sandwiches, which currently include pork meatball and BBQ beef. The breakfast sandwich, which comes with a fried-to-order egg, chard, bacon and tomato sauce on a homemade English muffin is just $5. Right now they’re breakfast and lunch only, open from 8am-4pm. The offerings include breakfast porridge, granola, pastries, salads, sandwiches, pizzas, hand-crafted beverages including espresso drinks and berry limeade, and freshly baked bread. In accordance with health requirements, they don’t have to keep their salads under glass because they sell everything within two hours of putting it out. It's that fresh. Okay, so Gjelina doesn't have the best rep right now due to the whole "no substitutions, even for pregnant celebrities" debacle, but if it makes you feel any better, GTA does accept subtractions. (Still no substitutions though.) So go ahead, feast your eyes on GTA. And then feast your belly.