Ho-Hum Hostaria del Piccolo – Santa Monica

If SoCal were a person, he’d be too cool for school. I’ve never met anyone so mild, so seamless, so smoothly flawless, all without the slightest hint of trying. His fashions are crisp and airy and light, even his fitted jeans have flow. He never appears frazzled, and he seems immune to stress.

SoCal is undeniably cool, and so are the Californians in it. Between the never-break-a-sweat climate and the overall attitude of ease, the will-wait-for-a-walk-signal slowness adds a pervasive air of contentment to a life that just can’t get any sweeter.

We can’t all be as cool as California, and the sooner we realize that the better. Because when places like Hostaria try, the results aren’t always what we imagined. Take the Ricottina appetizer, for instance. Fewer cheeses are cooler than ricotta. It’s mild, it’s smooth, and so non-confrontational you often forget it’s even a cheese. Add heat to a cheese this cool and it melts into the gooey glue that soups up stuffed shells and magnifies manicotti. But when you sear it plain and dry like the people at Hostaria, you get a slab so drab you might as well be eating mashed tortilla held together but the elementary-school paste that weird kid used to eat. A mix of mildly salted mushrooms on top doesn’t help – the rubbery texture only blows up the blandness.

Despite all the cities crammed with the educated, the well-educated, and the over-educated, wine tasting last for hours despite the long hours at work, and outdoor dining reigns supreme no matter how many briefs you still have to review. And when you combine all this understated knowledge in its purest form, you get something spectacular like the Pappardelle. It’s so simple with its ribbons of day-glo spinach pasta covered in crumbles of ground-duck ragu. But the pure, unadulterated savor of duck is absolutely amazing as the natural juices coat your palate. Devouring this dish is like a conversation with someone from SoCal. So much more can be said when you speak simply.

The only thing simpler than meat and pasta is a plain pizza with pizzaz. The Moderna manages a crust that hits the perfect balance between crispy and chewy with tomato tangy and fresh. The arugula adds a bite to the minimalist parm and mozz. It’s pretty much margherita by another name, and I assure you, it does smell (and taste) as sweet.

No sane person made the Tiramisane or they would have realized how much mascarpone they loaded it with. The cream was as thick as my forearm, and the sliver of denser cake at the bottom wasn’t soaked in …well, anything. There are few soakers stronger than espresso, and I couldn’t taste an iota of it.

We can’t all be cool like California, and Hostaria is a fair warning of what comes from trying too hard to look like you’re not trying. There’s an art to keeping it simple like the entrees, but when we try too hard to convey our lack of effort, it sometimes looks and tastes like a lack of effort, especially in the unfortunate case of the app and dessert. So despite the strong showing of entrees in the middle, Hostaria’s lack-of-effort sandwich makes me reluctant to make my way back.

Soho Thai Fushion Bar & Grill – Lomita

The great thing about low expectations is that they can only get better. And by the time I got to Soho Thai, my expectations for Thai were so-low that I didn’t dare order Thai. Melanee gave me a shot of PTSD (Post Thai Stress Disorder) so strong I couldn’t even look at the Thai part of the menu.

So I started with a flavorfully grilled Siam Pork instead. That iceberg salad on the side was about as special as a school lunch, but the rest of the plate was pleasing enough. The pork dipping sauce didn’t do it for me, but that’s only because I liked the pork too much to do any dipping, which is exactly how good meat should be. So feel free to flout my frequent sauciness over this dipping sauce – it did have a nice sour little kick to it.

When my lunch companion ordered the Panang Curry, I gave him a nice little kick under the table. After hearing about my experience at Melanee, you’d think a boy would learn. The curry itself wasn’t exactly mind-altering or life-changing, but it was enough to make me dare to order curry next time despite the PTSD. Just thick enough to be hearty and thin enough to seep into the crevices between all those grains of rice, it’s a solid lunch at worst. And for better or for worse, I think the Malay people it came from could comfortably claim it.

Turns out the only pill for PTSD is Soho’s Mango with Sticky Rice, and one dose will have you cured. They import the Thai yellow mangoes, and one bite of that fleshy, shamelessly sweet, pulpier-than-thou mango that puts even the ripest Kent to shame, you can feel better about pretty much anything. A sweet coconut milk concoction sticks to the little nooks and crannies of the sticky rice, and a couple bites confirms this as the best Thai dessert I’ve had since Bangkok.

To be fair, the lunch at Soho isn’t cheap, but it’s reasonably priced with portions just big enough to fill you up. I wouldn’t really plan to come back, but then again that dessert earns at least one more encore…

Five Star Seafood – San Gabriel

My friends found me wandering aimlessly around the parking lot after 20 minutes of squinting at signs, trying to find a poorly-marked restaurant. I don’t know why I was squinting. I’m already Chinese, and since I can’t actually read Chinese, I’m not sure why I thought squinting would help.

When we walked in, every table was full with a 30-minute wait. We were bombarded by brusque wait staff, and our table was assaulted by slightly-aggressive servers trying to unload their trays and carts. It doesn’t get more authentic than that.

 

The  little Shrimp Dumplings, a couple of Chive Bao (see cute little green bao next to bowl of blood), and Pork/shrimp Balls with Bean Curd are a sweet as can be, but that white stuff next to it is definitely Beef Tripe. Go beef or go home.

If dim sum doesn’t scare you a little you’re probably not at dim sum with me. If dim sum doesn’t scare me a little then you picked the wrong place. There are few readily-available Asian foods scarier than authentic dim sum, and if you’re ordering the tame table then you’re not sitting at mine. After all, what’s dim sum without a side of blood and guts?

Even if you’re the tame table, I wouldn’t want there to be bad blood between us so have a bowl. Of Pork Blood, that is. I found mine minimally savory and a little bit on the bland side. The texture isn’t bad, but the crumbly-soft stuff is nothing to write home about.

Can’t stomach the thought of eating organs? No guts, no glory. We liked the Pork Stomach so much we got it twice. It’s a cold dish and the texture is rubbery so try at your own risk.

Chicken Feet are at the heel of my problems. Traditional and truly not terrible, I still won’t try them at dim sum. (See metal dish at far right). Otherwise, there’s a bowl of Stewed Beef Tripe in the center, yes there is more than one preparation, and yes, we had to try both. That’s a lot of heavy stuff, but we always end on lighter notes like a steamed plate of Chinese Broccoli and fluffy Fried Taro.

When a mushroom walks into a bar, someone is trying to tell a joke. When a group of Chinese people walk into dim sum, it’s no laughing matter.  If we’re driving all the way up to San Gabriel for one meal, there better be something mind-blowing on the other end, and whatever-it’s-called, didn’t disappoint.

Seductive Sugarfish – Santa Monica

The last time I heard the words “trust me”, they were coming from the sketchy guy holding two beers…for himself. In a dimly lit dive. Sugarfish is no dive, but you can understand my apprehension when the words “Trust Me” jumped out as I squinted at the menu through the mood lighting.

Except this time, instead of being revolted, I was pretty conflicted. Part of me wanted to say, “Buddy, it’s not THAT dark in here”, but another part of me said “Show me what you got.”

And Sugarfish sure as heck showed. My date with Sugarfish was off to a strong start with the Organic Edamame. These fuzzy little pods taste fresh-off-the-vine, and the salt infuses all the way through for an evenly flavored little bean of bliss.

The edamame was a surprisingly hard act to follow, and the Tuna Sashimi was trying too hard. The top-of-the-line tuna melts in your mouth, but the plethora of perfect ponzu didn’t do it any favors. Over-sauced despite being over-the-top tasty, the perfect taste and texture of tuna was almost a tease with all that sauce running interference.

I’m too cynical for love at first sight, but love at first bite is entirely possible with palate-pleasers like the Albacore Sushi. It may take a while to earn my trust, but between that and a Salmon Sushi sweet-as-sugarfish, I’ll trust Sugarfish’s quality any day.

I don’t usually like Yellowtail Sushi – it’s pretty unforgiving when it comes to freshness and tastes a little too fishy a little too quickly. Then again, this yellowtail was fresher than a first date, and between that the smooth-as-sake Halibut Sushi with an amazing accompanying yuzu ponzu, this place has reeled me in; hook, line, and sinker.

It’s been a long time since I’ve agreed to address a love-hate relationship, especially, my love-hate relationship with hand rolls. Half the time the sushi doesn’t go all the way through so you’re stuck sucking on seaweed and rice, and there’s nothing worse than getting to the bottom of the roll and only to find nothing there. Good thing the Toro Hand Roll was a cylinder crammed with fatty cuts of tuna that are as flawless as a honeymoon-phase relationship.

I may have a love-hate relationship with hand rolls, but I have a love-love-love relationship with blue crab. And this Blue Crab Hand Roll, bulging with blue crab sweeter than a lover’s kiss may be one of the most amazing things I’ve ever eaten.

When it comes to relationships, my policy is to proceed with caution, but seductive Sugarfish throws my caution to the wind. Forget my trust issues, I’ll trust anything they put in front of me. And forget my spite for sauce, I’ll put up with any ponzu on my plate. Funny, I usually don’t go for most things fresh off a boat, but fresh off a tuna boat is totally fine by me.

Crustaceans at Captain Kidd’s – Redondo Beach

If it’s seafood you’re craving, Captain Kidd can be quite the catch. Structured like a fish market with all the good stuff OTC, the counters are crammed full of cutlets and crustaceans. Order a la carte to the left and get ready-made or made-to-order on the right.

One taste of Dungness Crab from the left counter will spirit you away to sea. It’s so good, you’ll be gone fishing after just a few bites. Those with anger issues should grab a mallet. Just know that although it may be both entertaining and cathartic to hammer and smash a crab yourself, it may take a while for the people next to and across from you to purge bits and pieces of your cathartic crab from their clothing. Just bring friends who aren’t too well-dressed.

If crab isn’t your thing, no problem – plenty to pick from. If you’re asking for a specific fish or shellfish, the variety is pretty impressive at Captain Kidd’s so they’ll rarely tell you to go fish.

My Soft Shell Crab Platter from the right counter was piled high with two large deep-fried crabs that definitely surpassed my expectations for size. The crab wasn’t the freshest I’ve ever had, but definitely no complaints in that respect. A little over-the-top on the grease factor, plus I made the mistake of getting the slightly-bland, too-thick Lobster Bisque and hard hush puppies on the side. Hardly a heart-healthy meal, but nothing tugs at my heartstrings like a good soft shell crab.

Tired of stuffy seafood restaurants but still want a fish you can’t get fresh in a regular grocery store? I think my favorite thing about Captain Kidd is the casual candor that only comes with seating yourself at a picnic table with a view of the ocean. So cast a line at Captain Kidd’s when you’re at the pier and see what you reel in.

Jogasaki Truck – Los Angeles

Q: What could possibly be better than a sushi roll?

A: A bigger sushi roll.

This month’s special Spider Burrito was the biggest sushi roll I’d ever seen. Loaded with crunchy soft-shell, sweet crab, and soft avocado balanced by cool cucumber and quick crunches of yamagobo, this combination is so rich you barely notice the rice around it, and the thin, slightly chewy soy paper ties it up nicely without interfering with the flavors.

I thought Jogaski Truck had snorted a little too much wasabi when I saw a sign for sushi, especially sushi you catch as it falls out of the side of a truck. But I had to try it. As did the 20 people in line in front of me. I have no regrets. And neither does my GI tract. Clearly they’re onto something.

Q: What could possibly be more awesome than this sushi burrito?

A: Nothing! Except maybe the eclectic collection of culture at Chinatown Summer Nights where I had it!