There’s Always Room for The Room Sushi – Los Angeles

Cows have four stomach, and I covet the cows. Imagine how much more I could eat if I had two more stomachs to put it in. But I don’t have 4 stomachs, I only have two. One for sushi, and one for everything else.

Things like Uni go straight into that sushi stomach, except when I say stomach, what I really mean is a bottomless pit that never gets full. I could eat uni forever and never get tired of it. The uni at The Room was just okay, but uni is always too good to resist.

The Salmon Nigiri was plenty fresh as well, and just like the uni, it barely made a dent in the sushi stomach. Even if that stomach was full, there’s always room for salmon.

Since my second stomach resembles the dark pit of a bottomless cave, I guess it’s only fitting that I start with something that lives in one, something like the Eel Avocado Maki, filled to the gills with soft, sweet eel with a healthy dose of avocado and sauce.

All this, and both stomachs are still starving. Even moving from nibbles of nigiri to overstuffed luxury rolls like The Room Special barely makes a dent. Which is hard to believe when you combine spicy blue crab and avocado wrapped with an assortment of salmon, tuna, shrimp, avocado.

And just when I feel like the sushi is getting too wholesome, I discover the Ocean Wind for a mouthful of all that is unhealthy and over-the-top. As if the spicy tuna, battered shrimp tempura, and crazy amounts of crab weren’t enough, it’s topped off with deep-fried flakes and a contrasting combination of sweet eel sauce and savory spicy mayo. A few bites can quickly become one too many so even my bottomless sushi stomach had to share with a friend.

Both of my stomachs will always have room for The Room, but there’s always room to share. I’ll gladly share my extra room with anyone who needs it. As in I’m always happy to give that room to whatever sushi you no longer have room for. Have a small appetite and a tendency to over-order? Come to The Room with me so we can bond.

Marveling at Messob – Los Angeles

I love fine dining. I love wearing pretty clothes for proper sit-down meals with carefully crafted plates of artful combinations, and I love the polish and refinement with which we eat. Sometimes. Other times you just want to dig in.

To be honest, I have no idea how to use a fish spoon, and I’d eat my whole dinner with a salad fork if I had the choice. But while foods like hummus and pita are natural finger foods, even on my lowest-maintenance day I find the idea of eating an entire meal with my bare hands repulsive.

And that’s where injera steps in as Ethiopia’s slightly soggy sourdough-flatbread that acts as an edible napkin. Break off a piece and pinch up some Gored Gored, a chopped beef served practically raw even when you ask for it medium. All those primal meat-hunting hormones will kick in when you chow down on these chewy bits of bleeding beef.

The Super Messob Exclusive for two easily feeds four with more left over than we knew what to do with. And why not use this to try the menu instead of making the agonizing decision between chicken and beef?

Far as I can see, the Doro Wot is Ethiopia’s version of barbecue chicken with a less tangy, spice-soaked sauce. The Siga Wot (same thing with beef) is even better, and the Kittfo, grains of ground beef with a dash of chili, is best.

I got called out for doubling down on my share of the Yebeg Siga Alitcha, but who wouldn’t when confronted with lamb stewed in garlic and ginger?

As if you weren’t already full of meat, the Yemisir Wot made a hearty lentil stew, literally the Siga Wot minus the meat, and even the simply steamed veggies of the Yatakilt Alitcha packed plenty of punch.

I’ve had plenty of Ethiopian food before, and suffice it to say it was never my favorite cuisine. The injera was fun, but I often found it a bit bland. I don’t know what happened at Messob, but the food just came alive. Every bite was full of flavor, and every spice stood out. I used to find eating Ethiopian mildly amusing, but after this meal at Messob, consider me obsessed.

Only the Best at Bestia – Los Angeles

People who know me know that I'm difficult, okay fine, impossible to silence. Chatterbox is the cuter term, loquacious is more diplomatic, but let’s just be honest and say that I never shut up. If you’ve been with or around me long enough and feel like your ears have started to bleed, no need to break our friendship – I think there is a solution in sight: the one time I went to Bestia for dinner I don’t think I spoke more than 5 words.

Bestia left me speechless the moment I walked into the door. I was so blown away by the décor I could barely tell the hostess my name. Exposed pipes and unfinished brick walls have been done to death and this former New Yorker would have been happy to never see them again. But I think that’s because no one has done it quite as well as Bestia. Bestia manages to be rustic with all sleek and smooth lines of modern, a tranquil dining area humming with excitement.

When you're out of words like I was, all you have to say is "Bespoke" to get your custom cocktail. I barely whispered "bourbon" and waited with trepidation, afraid I would be stuck with girly, sugary sips. But the bartenders read me right. I found my high in a highball glass with bourbon, honey, and lemon.

My friend and I finally sat down to dinner, but the menu rendered us speechless. Every dish was clearly well-crafted, and it looked like we just couldn’t go wrong. We finally settled on the Grilled Octopus & Calamari, a pan sear with a hint of pomegranate so perfect it sends shivers up your spine.

A whole year of catching up to do and we still couldn’t say a word. The Grilled Santa Barbara Quail, with juicy bits of floppy fungi and soft potatoes on the side, was so soft you'd think it was steamed. But steaming doesn't seal in this much savor. Then again, I didn’t think anything could seal in this much savor until I tried this quail.

We really wanted to start conversing by this point, but the best way to shut someone up is to feed them something that burns. The Stinging Nettle Pappardelle, despite being a plateful of fried nettles, turned out to be seamlessly smooth. Not even the tiniest bit of sting, but a light touch of a dark, almost kale-like bitterness leaves the best kind of burn. The mushrooms are soft and chewy like tempurpedic pillows, and the poached egg adds a rich coating to the pasta. 

After one amazing bite of the Cavatelli alla Norcina, I started to think that I could be capable of taking a vow of silence...in Italy. These al dente ricotta dumplings are al dente beyond my wildest dream, and the perfectly-spiced sausage that transcends any craving for comfort food. The black truffles pull it all together with a sauce so good I ate eat piece of cavatelli individually just to make it last.

The end was near, and all we knew is that we were both doing well. But the only real communication we exchanged was a series of grunts and gestures indicating our favorite foods, i.e. everything we ate. We didn’t have room for dessert, but no way that would stop us.

The Creme Fraiche Panna Cotta wasn’t what I expected - it was even better. Instead of the sugary, creamy, dense custard-like mold, this smooth, liquidy yet airy concoction was well-balanced by tangy tangerines and lemon cookies. I have a real sweet tooth when it comes to desserts, but in this case less sugar makes it so much more.

2 apps, 2 pastas, and 1 dessert later, this loquacious, voracious blogger had only one word: wow. I’ve been teased, I’ve been somewhat excited, and I’ve occasionally arched an eyebrow at some of my better bites in LA, but I’d never been legitimately blown away until I binged at Bestia.

Ironically, and as usual, I have a lot of words for a review about being speechless. If you've made it this far, thank you. There are truly no words for how awesome it feels to know that someone is listening when I speak. I can’t thank you enough but because I do care about you, for your own sake, please find a better hobby.

Britt’s BBQ – El Segundo

Ironically, Britt’s Barbecue is a little bit north of Porky’s so you’d think that’s Porky’s would be better. But then I sat down at this equally small, equally easy to miss hole-in-the-brick-wall place and decided to give it a shot.

I tried the Tri Tip Sandwich just to compare it to Porky’s. The meat was almost as moist, and it gets pretty tasty when you dip just the tip into some sweet barbecue sauce before biting. I know tri tip is more west coast than south coast, but I had to try the tip at least once.

Despite its status as a mere hole in the wall on main street, the Britt’s Bowl can quickly turn a laid back lunch into the main street of your day. A mish-mash of everything on the menu, from the generic hot link to the impossibly tender shreds of pork and beef, all atop a bowl of beans that even Boston would be proud to claim, this is where you get the bang for your buck. Just be prepared to pack a bigger pair of pants.

At every restaurant, right when you finish your meal and start to lean back slowly just in case your newly-gained 5 pounds of food-baby weight breaks the chair, the server will ask you if you want dessert. They don’t do that at Britt’s because at Britt’s you don’t have a choice. You automatically get a little basket of glorified Donut Holes filled with a dab of vanilla custard topped off with powdered sugar. I already loved the Munchkins at Dunkin’, but after a couple of these I’ll never go back again.

When it’s lunchtime for this broke, homesick southern girl, Britt’s will be the first place I go. The prices are reasonable, the barbecue is as close as it gets, and there’s so much food in that bowl you won’t be able to eat anything for the rest of the day. 

Porky’s BBQ – San Pedro

I love SoCal but I'd be lying if I said I never got homesick. And if you read my last post, you would know just how much I lied. And if it's homesickness that’s getting this southern girl down in the dumps, Porky’s is a good place to start looking for a cure.

Tri Tip is almost an adequate substitute for a good smoked southern pork butt, and these rosemary-rubbed tips of tenderness would have done nicely if not for the butt-load of salt and pepper. There's almost no such thing as too much rosemary on meat, but I swear there wasn’t enough water in the world for this much salt.

The Smoked Brisket is so tender and soft you could eat it with a spoon, but the saltshaker strikes again. Different cut, same problem.

Porky’s clearly cooks meat perfectly, and I doubt there are any cuts they can’t handle. But sometimes even the most important of spices can make even the best steak go south. Porky’s clearly has potential, so I can only hope they realize that. Good meat doesn’t need spices to compensate, and when it comes to compensation, the meat at Porky’s needs none so hopefully they’ll stop slathering on so much salt!

Neomonde Bakery and Deli - Morrisville, NC

The food at Neomonde is hardly the brave new world its name might suggest, but after a couple hours of hard core climbing all you want is old world wholesome.

My Beef Kabob Platter was just that. Simple, juicy chunks of well-seasoned beef, a soft pumpkin salad on the side, and a crisp kale and apple salad with minimal dressing, just the way I like it. Sure, salads sound way less impressive, but I was pretty impressed by the freshness of the food considering we showed up 30 minutes before closing. Even if they told me my food had been sitting out of day, I wouldn't have believed it.

The kabob and sides are a healthy ending to a healthy workout, but the Pistachio Baklava is the ultimate negation. With all those irresistibly fluffy pastry layers doused with honey and loaded with nuts, negativity has never tasted so sweet.

Speaking of things that are sweet, this week's theme seems to be saying goodbye to some of the sweeter things in life, and Raleigh might be one of them. They say there's no place like home, but I've always felt like Raleigh was the Neomonde of my life - a place I can rest when I'm tired of climbing the giant rock wall of life. Not a permanent place, but not one I can easily forget. And it'll be a long time before I can return to rest, but don't worry Neomonde, goodbye doesn't always mean forever.

Cleaning My Plate at Kanpai – Los Angeles

The only thing better than a friend who's willing to give you a ride to the airport is a friend who's willing to try a new restaurant with you right before he drops you off.

And what better way to prepare for takeoff than with a belly full of sushi? So we jumped right in with the Spicy Tuna Roll, which was some of the freshest tuna I’ve ever had. We got through that one pretty quickly and moved on to the Creamy Blue Crab Roll, which, despite Japan’s abundance of avocado orchards, is about as authentic as a California roll. But it’s pretty hard to turn down mayo-loaded blue crab with ripe avocado and crunchy cucumber encased in delicate soy paper. If California rolls are the economy class of sushi, this roll was my upgrade to first.

The LMU Roll was packed tighter than my no-charge carry-on with all sorts of good stuff. The sweet, fresh eel sat on top of elbow-to-elbow sweet potato tempura, avocado, and cucumber, but it was honestly too much sweet stuff in one place. I like my sushi a little more savory, and trying to pick up one of those tightly packed rolls was like unzipping my suitcase – things just fly out left and right. Then again, eating that eel felt almost as amazing as getting to hang your garment bag in the first class closet.

The Lemon Salmon Collar had me crazier than a TSA agent looking for the 4-ounce bottle of lotion in the bottom of your bag, and every bite was almost as savory as the satisfaction I get from watching them try to cram everything back into my precisely-packed bag when they’ve found my deadly bottle of Bath and Body Works. The salmon itself is smoother than cream, a melt-in-your-mouth soft, especially the fattier parts at the head end of the collar. Every delectable bite made me want more, and I’ll be back for the red snapper and yellowtail collars before my next flight home.

Flying isn’t as easy as it used to be, but if it means I get to eat at places like Kanpai beforehand, the interminable security line seems more like a willing vacation. I’ve been craving Kanpai ever since I first boarded that flight, and now I may book another one just so I have a reason to return.