Kura Revolving Sushi Bar - Torrance

Kura on the outside, my beloved Kula on the inside with a single letter changed.

Not so much. With the dropping of the "L" came the dropping of the quality, and with the addition of the "R" came the addition of 50 cents to the price of every plate.

The pieces of fish are slightly smaller and not too mention thinner. The Eel barely covers the rice anymore. 

The Conch is really small... 

And the Octopus got tougher.

Still love the Grilled Scallops with Mayo but size is still an issue. 

The Salmon stayed similar, and I do appreciate that it's consistently delicious. 

The rolls have also gotten smaller. The Tuna Crispy Rice is still crispy and fun-sized, but the caterpillar roll is a joke.

The thing that bothers me most is that the freshness is acceptable but no longer exceptional. In more particular and unforgiving items like the Scallop, this is becoming more apparent. Definitely better than edible and in no way fishy yet, but it only has another notch or two before it takes a perilous fall. 

At least the Hokkaido Tart is still full of sweet custard goodness... 

I still love the sushi, and the price is hard to beat. The selection is complete, and I understand that these people have a business to run. I won't stay away for long, but I do think twice about coming here now. 

Shi-Sen-Gumi 2GO - Gardena

First night back from vacation and we're hobbits. First breakfast, second breakfast as the segue to brunch. Lunch was a long time ago, and dinner is 2 hours away thanks to the line at Kura. 

We need something to satisfy while when we're on a waitlist 15 people deep. 

Fear not, there's a fresh Shrimp Rice Burger to hold us over without filling us up. The patty has a satisfying, deep-fried crunch, and the grilled rice is just firm enough to give it a sandwich feel. 

Yakatori is aplenty, but it's overpriced for what it is. The Chicken Skin has the signature sauce but it's soggy in the middle. Not soft, soggy. Pork Belly-Wrapped Enoki Mushrooms are hard and dry, and the Beef Tongue is tender and moist and good enough. 

Skip the sticks and stick to the snacks. The burger is the best, and the curry looks like it would hit the spot. I wouldn't pick this place over Kura, and I definitely wouldn't choose it over the other chains, but if I'm in the area and in a hurry, I'm sure I could do worse.

El Pollo Bronco - Tulum, Mexico

Our last meal in Tulum. We walk into an unassuming hole in the wall along the main road in town. A handful of simple tables greets us, and the fragrant aroma of roasting chicken wafts through the open storefront. Halved chickens roast in a large brick oven, and a concise menu adorns a brightly-painted wall. You order a chicken combo based on how much you want or you order just chicken based on how much you need. It's the very definition of fast-casual...with the wow-factor of 3 Michelin stars.

We order a whole Chicken combo, and it's everything I could hope for and more. Every morsel of this fall-off-the-bone chicken is exquisite; juicy, tender, seasoned simply and skillfully so the flavor roasts down to the deepest flesh. Even the breast gets savor all the way through, and a feat I've yet to see anyone accomplish. 

The chicken comes with a bag of soft corn tortillas and rice and shredded slaw for tacos. Don't just drizzle the salsa on top, add a generous pour. It's spicy and fresh, with a kick that appeases the spice-seekers without deterring those who can't take the heat.

Some of the best pollo I've ever had, hands-on the best salsa in the world. Pollo Bronco may not look like much, but there is no better last meal in Tulum, and I wouldn't mind it as a last meal on earth either.

Cetli - Tulum, Mexico

Forget the ritz n' ditz of the Zona Hotelera, the best restaurant in Tulum lies on the road to Coba. Cetli's new location is spectacular, and they have the menu to match. 

The restaurant is an airy, free-standing house in Yucatan yellow. The arches glow brightly against the twilight sky, and the walls teem with exquisite antique decor.

The chef is a one-woman show, a sweet lady who makes her grandmother's recipes, carrying on a legacy with her own two hands.

The appetizer is a small feast, an assorted tray of small delights, some well-known to us and some not so much. All are made with a unique and exquisite touch. 

There are simple Corn Cakes with beans and cheese, a local staple. The cornmeal is delicate and airy, and the beans are a savory spread. An elastic cheese stains crimson against a sweet-beet backdrop, and a chewy seeded bread gets a helping hand from a mind-blowing garlic butter. Cheese empanadas come to life in habanero salsa, a creamy tomato and cheese sorta-spread is an experience, and a tart orange is topped with feisty fried grasshoppers that finish with a sharp tang that reminds me of Tajin. 

Roasted Tomato Soup with tortilla is an official starter, and this thicker broth capture the very essence of tomato with an oomph. The flavors are pure and confident, the very definition of comfort food, clotted with queso fresco. 

The Metztli, a meticulous roll of soft chicken breast is stuffed with a bland mashed plantain, the perfect platform for an exceptional black mole. Sesame enhances the dark, nutty sauce, and the chicken sits and soaks in this singular sauce.

The Potosi is another roll of pollo, this time filled with chaya, a cross of spinach and kale with a much better texture. The cactus fruit jam starts sweet and subtle and finishes bold with the tiniest bit bitter.

The chicken dishes are adored, and the sauces are something else. But this Chile en Nogada overshadows anything I've ever eaten, in Tulum, maybe in the world as a whole. An earthy oven-roasted poblano pepper is full of savory beef and pork, sweetened with nuts and raisins in a sherry sauce sprinkled with pomegrante that I swear is liquid crack. It's like nothing I've ever had, and it's something I'll ever forget.

The desserts are earthy and hearty like the meals, starting with the Nimbe, a dense marble cake full of frozen ice cream. The mezcal sauce is thick against a muddy dark chocolate river, making the summery strawberries pop.

The Tzopelic is raisin-bread as a pudding, moist and soaking in a cream sauce much like light white chocolate. The strawberry sorbet isn't just fruity and sweet; the almond liquor gives it some snap.

THIS is the best restaurant in Tulum. There are none like Cetli, and there are none that come close. Never have I had a meal so inspiring, so infused with a family's heart and soul, and I doubt I'll ever find anything this special again.

El Capitan - Tulum, Mexico

Two doors down from diving, we came on a strong recommendation from David (our Coba guide), but mostly because we didn't have to hail yet another cab. 

I just had a midlife crisis in the middle of the dive shop, so I'm looking for something safe. Guacamole is always good in Tulum, and I love my creamy, ripeness-peak smashed-up avocado and chips. A classic that never gets old, unlike the brand-new booty-bearing Brazilian-cut bikini burning a hole in my bag. This perfect place of guacamole probably sounds boring in comparison, but believe me, these flavors are anything butt.

More adventurous is the Ceviche Mixto, a vinegar-cooked jumble of succulent shrimp, tender octopus, and fish so pristine it tastes fresh-caught. We opted for the non-spicy because I'm weak, but a droplet of their habanero sauce spices things up to a bearable level, and each bite is seafood heaven.

We took a chance on a Coctel Mixto considering neither of us likes tomato. But this isn't any tomato-y tussle, this is a sweet, so-refreshing-it's-drinkable glass of shrimp and octopus that have soaked up the sun from that vine-ripe tomato. 

To think we picked this place for proximity! The joke's on us and it's our loss ever time we don't visit El Capitan. They're right up there with El Camello Jr for ceviche, and I think they're even better. Best ceviche in town!

Agua Clara Diving - Tulum, Mexico

I kind of rolled the dice when I picked Agua Clara. I didn't know anything about any of the diving companies, and Tulum has too many. They seemed genuine in their correspondence; effective, efficient, and on top of their sh*t. Because you need the person packing your oxygen tank to be all these things, no exceptions.

Niko is just that, and he's one of the best dive masters I've had. He knows how to teach, and he knows how to be a teacher. His talent is one that can't be taught; an intuition that allows him to give just the right combination of instruction and room to (literally) breathe. 

It's Justin's second discover dive, and they charge me as an add-on so that we can dive together. Agua Clara is flexible and accommodating, and they're perfect for the indecisive. They offer a combo pack of dives; one cenote and one reef. 

The cenote is a bucket-list item, though I'm not a fresh water fan. I imagine cave diving is different world, though I prefer to pass on the danger. We get thick wet-suits to brave the cold, and the water is as clear as a cloudless sky.

There are no reefs to see, and there are fewer fish, but the rocks and roots cast an air of mangrove mystery.

And there is the laziest crocodile in the world at the end of the dive. They named him Francisco because he never moves from that spot and can always be counted upon to appear.

Next step: the reefs. Glad to cross cenote off my list, but there is nothing more beautiful than a vibrant reef. Niko chooses a spot where the rock and coral converge into mini caves, full of arches and narrower passage to swim under and through. 

It's my first time diving and shooting with a GoPro, and I learn to acclimate to the anxiety of it all. It's an expensive toy to lose, and I'm white-knuckling the waterproof case. But there is a meditative zen to diving, and despite being terrified of water, I love the quiet of the briny depths, where I can only hear myself breathe. 

I only get to dive once a year, and this one was a real treat. Agua Clara is a great company to work with, and if you're trying to dive, Niko is your guy.