Handel’s Homemade Ice Cream and Yogurt – Redondo Beach

When it comes to ice cream, the more homemade, the better. I’ll take a thick, less-smooth slow-churn with none of that supermarket sugar. All the store-bought stuff in the world couldn’t steer me away from a good homemade vanilla.

I love homemade ice cream, but I just can’t handle the stuff they serve at Handel’s. I usually love weird or different flavors, and while the Graham Central Station, a less chocolatey take on s’mores, is hardly an adventure, its texture was more than slightly strange. The texture is something I can only describe as “finely coarse” and feels like small grains of grit on your gums. I originally attributed this to the graham cracker content in this finely-crumbed concoction, but indecisive eater than I am, I tried at least five other flavors and they’re all like that. After just a couple bites, I definitely didn’t want s’more. 

Boring Blue Daisy Café – Santa Monica

When we think of all things organic, we think of things that are free, natural, made by mother nature, the most meticulous artist of them all. Our minds zoom to all things zealously zen, and sometimes we even slip into something slightly spiritual.

Organic is awesome in its purest definition. After all, who doesn’t want something down-to-earth, of the earth, and from the earth? But sometimes, at granola grub-hubs like Blue Daisy Café, organic tries too hard.

The Organic Scrambled Eggs with Smoked Salmon tried so hard to be down-to-earth that it became as plain as dirt. The eggs are fluffy and fresh, but there was nothing natural about the salmon. I recently learned that some indigenous New Zealand tribes used salt as a currency, and I wonder how they'd feel if they knew that Blue Daisy Café had squandered their entire GDP in a slab of salmon. I assume this salmon was hot smoked because I've never had smoked salmon cooked, but judging by the complete lack of smoked taste, I honestly think they drowned it in salt to cover up forgetting the smoke.

The Salmon Crepe is the eggs with salmon for people who are lazy. Exact same thing except they wrap the crepe around the food for you so it spares you the effort of trying to intersperse it between bites. I have to say, this soft, light-yet-chewy, slightly sweet crepe was the best crepe I’ve ever had in my life.

I hadn’t expected the crepe to be so perfect because the it was the zucchini hash browns that had diners Yelping with pleasure. Well either everyone who raved about them slipped something special into their coffee that morning or the fryer is on the fritz. The hash browns were loaded with oil and very little flavor, and I wouldn't have known they contained zucchini if not for the few flecks of green.

Horrible hash browns and salty salmon aside, there’s no doubt organic foods taste better and Blue Daisy Café did nothing to dissuade me of that. It’s just that sometimes people try so hard to be purely natural they just end up being boring. Considering I only tried one thing in two different forms, I can’t speak for the rest of the menu, which is quite extensive, but I can say it did look all that innovative or exciting. And that’s okay too, but I can make organic eggs and less salty salmon at home. But I would come for a take-out stack of crepes on the side.

Wandering to Watdongmoonlek Noodle – Los Angeles

We had just hiked a trail created by my imagination. We basically wandered for hours until we found what resembled a road to civilization so it was only fitting that we would wander through the random streets of LA until we stumbled upon a restaurant resembling edible food. And by the time we stumbled upon a humble house of noodles, we were starving, and we were so exhausted that we were nodding off faster than their bobbleheads.

Our meal didn’t quite start with a Big Bang, but the high ceilings and walls with breathtaking chalk-on-chalkboard drawings made quite the impact. These depictions of famous people looking larger than life were almost enough to distract me from the erupting volcano in the next chair…oh wait, that’s my stomach...it’s so loud the people at the next table are staring…act natural…

Turns out I’m not very good at acting natural when the obvious source of an unnatural noise is me…I guess I should just be happy it wasn’t because I just ingested lactose. Unlike me, however, the Fresh Rolls had no problem acting natural as springy stacks of lightly fried tofu with veggies and herbs. When dunked in a delicious dipping sauce with the right, light combination of subtle and spice, each bite leaves you feeling so fresh…and so clean clean...

The best Pad Thai I ever had was whipped up in the hot wok of a Bangkok street cart. But the best Kee Mow Noodles I ever had were banged out in the back of Watdongmoonlek. The beef is tender, the noodles are as smooth as soy-sauce glass, chewy as caramel, and not nearly as long as the name of the restaurant that serves them.

Every time I select my level of spice at an Asian establishment, I always ask the most important question first, “When you say hot, do you mean Thai hot, or do you mean white-boy hot?” We ordered our perfect, creamy, coconutty Beef Red Curry at a happy Thai medium. After the first bite, I thought it was too warm and simply needed time to cool down. But it wasn’t that kind of heat. So glad we went with medium. The hot probably would have an effect similar to a huge bowl of ice cream.

Like eating a huge bowl of ice cream, Watdongmoonlek was a huge gamble for me. And when it comes to finding food, I’m probably more uptight than all those Big Bang bobbleheads combined. I don’t exactly run towards restaurants at random so it’s a good thing I was hungry enough to be in a hurry that day or I would have never found this noodle nirvana.

Ramen Yamadaya – Torrance

Sorry Shensegumi, but even Santouka’s broth barely has a shot against the yumyums from Yamadaya. There’s a reason my Kakuni Ramen bathed in a spicy tonkotsu broth was described by one food critic as “liquid pork”. Topped with a slippery slab of belly bathed in the best broth in town, this stuff is to die for.

In case you haven’t noticed, I love ramen. If this comes as a surprise to you, you clearly don’t know me…or can’t read. So although my opinion of good ramen in a Japanese-dominated town like Torrance is a bit of a moot point, I still feel like I had to put in a plug for Ramen Yamadaya. And while this plug hasn’t been a particularly thought-provoking post, let’s just say the ramen at Yamadaya is definitely food for thought…very hedonistic thought.

Kula Revolving Sushi Bar – Torrance

When cartoon characters get knocked out, a little halo of stars always dances around their head. And when they're chasing something, whatever they were trying to eat flies around their head. Looney Tunes’ Sylvester the puddy tat, always has little Tweetys to taunt him, and sometimes Wile E. Coyote sees Roadrunners too.

No one from Looney Tunes has ever flown around my head, but when I slipped in the shower last week, I swear what I saw looked a lot like Kula. Sushi is always what I want and at Kula, it flies around on a conveyer belt.

I'm pretty skeptical about food that comes off a conveyer belt, but Kula had me pretty impressed. At only $2 per plate you can try an endless variety, and while you can eat your fill of stock Salmon and typical Tuna, there are plenty of adventurous things to grab as well. Red Snapper and Yellowtail are not much more adventurous but are equally fresh, The Seared Scallop was sweetened by a swipe of mayo, and the Raw Scallop was just as good. Seared Salmon had a nice char to it, and it's also a good idea to chew on some Conch.

My fall in the shower looked a lot like something only a cartoon character could do. But I’m so much smarter than they are. When hit, they never turn the other cheek. I on the other hand, turned to the Salmon Cheek, a couple of crispy, crunchy, too-deeply fried strips of the fattiest salmon you can get. If that doesn’t take away the pain, I don’t know what will.

We skipped most of the rolls as I had already spent plenty of time rolling around in pain, but I still couldn't resist the Real Crab California hand roll, which I grabbed almost as hard as the knee I landed on when I fell. And though it wasn't quite the same level of amazing as some other ones I’ve had, let's just say I’m a lot less picky when it’s a two-dollar roll.

So much sushi was flying around my head, and I couldn't believe I could just reach up and grab a handful of whatever looked good. It was almost worth the epic shower slip to have sushi as the aftermath. I can’t exactly expect the world to revolve around me and my falls, but the sushi at Kula sure seems to. I guess I know where to go next time I fall.

Cultured Café Chloe – San Diego

When I went to France I fell in love with the food, the wine, the sights, the sounds, the sophistication, and especially the people. Barely an hour in Paris and I was already scouting out my dream-chateau overlooking the Seine.

When in France, I spoke French. I spoke terribly but fluently, butchering the beautiful syllables of their beloved language, but my efforts didn't go unnoticed. My efforts were praised by many, lauded by all, and I returned to the US raving that I wanted to spend the rest of life in a cafe with any and all of these amazing people.

My friends did not agree. Those who had been remarked on the snooty, standoffish, nose-in-the-air Parisians who preferred not to acknowledge their presence, and those who had not been made it clear that they expected to be met with disdain for the tacky American tourists they were, the loud and proud as foreign affront to a country that prides itself in hushed refinement.

I want to say that the staff at Cafe Chloe were the people I met in France, not the people my friends describe, but I think I would have believed my friends if I didn't know better myself. Mon ami and I were completely ignored for at least 5 minutes upon entering and spent quite some time trying to get our orders in and the check out.

But all was worth enduring for the adorable alcove in which we were seated, a cozy little corner crook, looking down at the rest of the restaurant. And what experience could be more authentically French than sitting in a cafe surrounded by glossy gray scale photos featuring artful nudity?

The food was as beautiful as the seating, with all the togetherness and subtle beauty of a classic bistro-cafe. The Mushroom & Bleu D'auvergne Tarte was a seamless blend of soft, juicy mushrooms ensconced in a boldly balanced bleu. So smooth that you don't know where one leaves off and the other one starts, all on firmly flaky, crusty canvas. All the pastels of the entire Musee d'Orsay couldn't blend a scenery so seamless.

Impressionism was big in France, but the classics also prevail. And by classic I don't mean an overpriced piece of scaffolding, I mean the artistes who scribe, like Edmond Rostand and Victor Hugo. The Steak Frites are one such timeless classic. The herb-butter-infused, picture-perfect medium rare juices will roll off your tongue smoother than poetry from Cyrano de Bergerac.

But unlike the miserably bittersweet conclusion of Les Miserables, there was nothing bitter about the Pot de Creme that marked the end of my meal. Made of sugar and spice and everything nice, this dense, creamy concoction was le fin to le perfect meal.

Initial snobbery aside, I am in pure, true, unadulterated, shot-through-the-heart-by-cupid's-bow love with all that is French, and Cafe Chloe is no exception. The art, the literature, the history, everything about this culture pushes the boundaries of all that is beautiful and breathtaking, and Cafe Chloe was all those things...in edible form.

Trailing Tapas y Vino – Redondo Beach

Bar Comida was crowded. So crowded there was no comfortable place to stand, even around the bar. But there’s usually a good reason to wait, and if we didn’t have a movie to catch I would have stood outside all night. But we did have a movie to catch, and both we and the movie weren’t getting any younger so we settled for Tapas y Vino. Same genre, just a little further down the street.

We figured we couldn't go wrong with a standard sampler, but the Assorted Meat and Cheese Plate showed us exactly why this place was totally empty on a Saturday night. You see, it's not an assortment when half the stuff tastes the same. I don't know if I could tell the chorizo and salumi apart when blindfolded. No complaints about the Jamon Serrano, but I've had better in a common bocadilla. Then we have the common manchego and a "baby brie" which means brie minus half the flavor that makes it brie. And I'm not sure when the Spanish started making white cheddar, but I’m pretty sure they never did.

The assorted plate made it pretty easy for the next plate to impress. And the Roasted Beets definitely stepped it up to a higher grade of mediocre. You can't beat beets and goat cheese, but the beets were weirdly watery, and I couldn't really taste much more than beet water and cheese.

I’m a sucker for Lamb Lollipops, and the mint pesto really made this dish. Definitely not the best lamb I’ve ever had, but by far not the worst.

Next time Bar Comida is crowded, I’ll  just skip the movie. Going from the ravely-reviewed down to the marginally mediocre is about as appealing as trading Hunger Games for the two-hour torture of Ender’s Game. Both have the word game in it, but just because both places make tapas doesn’t mean they make them the same.