Status Post MB Post – Manhattan Beach

I never thought a trendy brunch could become philosophical, but apparently, delivering the menus in fake-postmarked envelopes was all it took to motivate my musing mind. Aside from an adorably obvious presentation of the restaurant’s theme, I was starting to wonder if stamping the menus gave them a higher chance of getting lost in the mail before they made it to the table.

Then I started thinking that when I put my name into the computer algorithm that spits out the residency match, my fate was actually very much like putting a letter in the mail. I addressed and stamped my match list, and gave it signed, sealed, and delivered into the hands of a seemingly omniscient mailman and hoped that he would take me where I was meant to be.

Sometimes that letter really does go where it’s supposed to, and the result looks something like that penciled-in Polenta dish on the menu at MB Post. The combination and quantity of every ingredient, every little speck of poached egg, tomato, white bean ragout, and bianco sardo was dead on. There was a place on the palate for everything in this dish, and everything was in its place.

Sometimes everything goes according to plan, but sometimes even the most carefully planned letter can go astray. Sometimes, I feel like the residency match was the absent-minded mailman who lost me and placed me as far away as possible from everyone and everything I ever knew. At first, leaving the east coast was like the Corned Beef Cheek Hash: a mish-mash of promising ingredients with potential that just didn’t quite work. The beef and potatoes go well with the gooey yolk of the fried egg, but somehow all these great pieces didn’t quite come together.

I felt as disjointed as that dish when I first moved to Cali, but things have gotten better since. I think sometimes you think you’re in the wrong place but that place turns out to be where you belong after all, even if it’s not where you saw yourself. If any dish were to convince me of that, it’d be the Truffle Honey Laced Fried Chicken. This sweet potato-battered southern spin was all I needed to convince me that maybe there is a place for a southern girl in SoCal. This sweet, tender chicken would give any southern mama a run for her money, and the Kholrabi Slaw on the side was a crunchier take on a sweet southern favorite, almost as sweet as feeling like maybe you’ve found yourself a new home sweet home.

When you see a fork in the road, take it. Even if it takes you away from home. Grasp your own fate, don’t leave it up to a mailman called chance. And when you want something done, do it yourself. Deliver your own fate instead of leaving it up to a man in khaki who drives the world’s slowest truck.

But now that I’ve given it some most thought, I don’t really care what you do when you see a fork in the road. If you don’t take it, I will, and then I’ll rinse it off, use it to eat my brunch at MB Post, and leave you wondering what you missed.

North Carolina State Fair – Raleigh

I am the least maternal person I know. I am the least maternal person you know too. I’m willing to bet money on that. But I’d be lying if I  said the idea of being a mother one day has never crossed my mind, especially with the recent boom of babies on Facebook.

Today I dragged my father to the North Carolina State Fair, an event I’ve so sorely missed during all my years away from home. To be assigned vacation right during the fair is absolutely awesome, and when I found out, there were moments of excitement when I could barely catch my breath.

We just walked in.

Me: Let’s get a Turkey Leg!

Dad: But I don’t LIKE turkey…

Me: That’s okay, what do you like? Cheeseburgers? Fries? Bloomin’ onion? Ribs, barbecue, etc, etc…

Dad: I want pizza!

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find pizza at a state fair? I do now.

I also got some Sweet Corn. You can’t go wrong with corn. But make sure you go to a place that roasts it over a grill with a flame that chars the husk. This one just wasn’t that good without the char.

Me: Hey, let’s try a Frozen Banana dipped in bacon!

Dad: But you can’t mix sweet and salty.

Me: Haven’t you ever heard of salted caramel?

Dad: No.

Me: Oh just try it.

Dad: No! I don’t like it.

Me: How do you know you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?

I also got a Deep Fried Milky Way. Because what state fair is complete without a heart attack on a stick? Then we looked at the livestock.

Me: Oooo, look at those cows/goats/rabbits/[insert name of something cute and fuzzy here]!

Dad: They smelllllllllll

I love the state fair. Not just for the food but the culture and the fact that you can’t help but have fun. I even like the smells. I’m still not over the thrill of finally getting to go again for the first time in 6 years. And what’s even better, now that I’ve taken my dad to the fair, I feel like a child might be easier.

Santouka Ramen, Mitsuwa – Torrance

There is always a line at Santouka. I’ve gone at 5 PM, I’ve gone at 6 PM, and I’ve gone at 2 PM. Same line, different people…even though they look alike. But don’t look at that line and slip into a stall without one. Not all ramen is created equal, and don’t think for a minute that any of those lineless places will be a close second. Suck it up, and a find a friend to keep you company while you stand single-file, salivating over the slurping that is sure to come.

I’m sure none of the other Mitsuwa stalls are all that regrettable, but Santouka is where it ends. Because after a viscous, smooth-grained bowl of Spicy Miso Ramen with granules of kicking miso clinging to all those al dente noodles, you’ll never eat anywhere else again.  The side of Soy Sauce Egg adds a nice touch but my mom makes them better. Then the Chashu Rice Bowl is totally forgettable so save your money and buy the bigger bowl…of ramen.

Hakata caters to your every whim, but sometimes it’s the inaccessibility that adds to the appeal. They only make 15 or 20 Kimchee Ramen bowls a day so make sure you snag one at least once and add an extra order of chashu. I have a weakness for kimchee, and this thick, flavorful broth is no exception, but the spicy miso actually makes a stronger showing, IMHO.

I wanted to do a sampling of all the South Bay ramen, but after Santouka, I can’t bring myself to go anywhere else. It sounds like a lame way to end, but before you make any judgments, go stand in line for Santouka and shut up and suck it up because that’s what you’ll be doing to your bowl of ramen soon enough.

Hakata Ramen Shinsengumi – Gardena

I’m so tired of hearing my friends nitpick their food. This is over-done, that doesn’t work, too much of this, not enough of that. Yeah yeah yeah. Yada yada yada. Oh wait…I am that friend.

So ummm…if I happen to be YOUR friend, I just found the perfect place for us to eat. Because when you’re having Hakata Ramen, only you control your fate. Only one simple half-sheet order slip stands between you and your perfect bowl of noodle-y broth. And believe me, you want this broth.

Mark your other choices carefully. Your fickle mind is only as good as your eraser. Get your noodles normal if you’re normal, soft if you’re too lazy to chew, and extra firm if it’s raw-men you’re after. Check the box for extra pork – a few extra slices of no-chew chashu will make a great bowl even better. I went with a normal amount of soup oil, but get some extra if you’re groveling for grease. Supertasters will weaken the soup base while those who like it stronger can sip themselves to hypertension.

I got a bowl of moderation this time, but I do wonder if I’d enjoy a few extra chews of a firmer noodle or an extra glass of water with a stronger soup. Needless to say, I’ll be back for a few variations, and hopefully you’ll try them too. But no matter what you order, just remember that you asked for it.

Beni-Tora – Torrance

If you’re going to Mitsuwa to try the BEST ramen, go directly to Santouka. (Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.) If you’re going to Mitsuwa to try ALL the ramen, Beni-Tora is a good place to start…because nothing after this will disappoint you.

The sheer size of the Pork Belly Ramen will blow you away, and few things are more enticingly presented than this rock-slab roll of pork belly the size of your fist. And if you’re like me and don’t want to box up a bowl of unfinished ramen the size of your head, the half portion is quite the deal at 30% off, especially since the only thing they skimp on is the noodles. But once you get past the perks, you quickly discover that the rock-slab of pork belly happens to be hard as a rock, and although the noodles are a good texture, the broth they swim in is utterly forgettable...but only after your jaw (and your belly) stop aching from the pork.

Sticking to Stone Brewing World Bistro & Gardens – San Diego

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but after some Stone beer I’ll never feel the pain.

It’s widely known that alcohol is an analgesic, but I think a good beer is even better than that. A strong shot of whiskey may help you through a no-novacaine dentist and a couple of morphine can make you care less, but a good tasting flight will actually make you happy. Throw back some Maui Coconut (far left) and you’ll feel like you’re watching football from your living room couch…in Hawaii. No one likes an Arrogant Bastard (2^nd from the left) unless it’s 7.2% alcohol and 100% awesome, and the only thing better than an Arrogant Bastard is an Arrogant Bastard that's been Oaked (3^rd from the left). The Lightning Thunderweizen sounds like it would really stir things up, but I think it needs to eat its Wheaties.

It’s a long drive down to San Diego from Torrance, and the traffic was leaving my back in knots. But a twist of doughy Soft Pretzel is a pretty straight-forward way to make me feel better. Different people have different ideas of what makes them feel better, but pretty much anyone can find happiness in a few chewy-soft swipes of the best jalapeno queso ever.

Whether you’ve had enough beer to be hungry or too much beer to be stuffed, a square of the Chilaquiles Eggs Benedict will leave you feeling anything but square. These poached-egg tortilla strips stuffed with salsa verde would have been a little less bland if the side of chorizo hash had been inside instead of on the side.

YOU may not be happy day-drinking on your day off, but I can’t think of a better way to spend my Saturday. Then again, I spent my last Saturday off taking an 8-hour exam so the bar is set pretty low, but either way Stone would at least kill the pain. Perhaps I would have done better on that exam if I had shown up Stoned…

Whining at Bouquet Restaurant at Ponte Winery Inn – Temecula

I spent a day with three married couples. At a vineyard in Temecula. Because for some reason I thought that this wouldn’t be awkward. After all, sometimes you need a 7^th wheel. Like on a tractor trailer. Which is a very awkward vehicle, btw. But my bff was among them, and I figured, single or not, I wasn’t all that different. They’re cute together, and I’m just plain cute. Cupid helped them find each other, and I found okcupid…dot com. One of the couples has a cat for company, and I’m looking at a lifetime of cats for company. Same same, but different.

If I’m 7^th wheeling with 3 kissing couples, there better be something to amuse my mouth as well. I spent all my time lip-locking with my Melon + Prosciutto. The melon is ripe, the prosciutto is perfect, and the sweet and savory combination will trump any sloppy kiss. And the bites of burrata on bread are the perfect union of mozzarella-married-mascarpone.

My plate of prosciutto was much more positive than my attitude that day, but the Short Rib Sandwich fell almost as short as my expectations as some of the conversation. The short rib was full of lip-smacking flavor, but it was on the drier side when topped with thick ciabatta and fried onions.  And the not-so-sharp cheddar on top didn’t help. It was bland, but not nearly as bland as a married woman who stays at home all day and has nothing to say. I only had one bite of that sandwich, but I was stuck with her all day.

I complain about company I was keeping, but I had no complaints about Bouquet. My friends have their husbands to give them flowers, but I had my own Bouquet in the form fine fare. My friends had their handsome husbands to look at, I had my view of vineyards as far as the eye could see. Their hands travelled up a leg, my eyes travelled up a vine. 7^th wheel or not, at least we all enjoyed the view. 

Gelling with Gjelina – Venice

The first thing I ever splurged on was a left wing seat four rows from the stage for a musical called Rent. You may have heard of it. It’s only a tiny bit famous. Famous or not, it was the first and only time I ever paid face value for Broadway tickets, and the amount was staggering. It was a splurge for sure, but from it came a lesson worth more than money could buy. I learned a lot of things from Rent that night. I learned that sometimes the good things in life will cost you. And sometimes they’ll cost you a lot. But I also learned that some things are worth paying for. 

It’s a feel-good story, isn’t it? I came, I saw, I spent. I learned how great it was to spoil myself, and I’ve been entertaining the occasional indulgence ever since. I’ve seen 12 other shows on Broadway since, and most recently I ended up at Gjelina. Gjealous?

I thought Kevin was crazy when he insisted on the Mushroom Toast. So many exotic ingredients and he chooses the bread and shrooms. But these weren’t just mushrooms. These were juicy little fun-guys (fungis…get it?) soaking in crème fraiche and white wine for just the right amount of thyme. The toast balances out the texture and soaks up more stuff than Mimi was putting into her veins...too soon?

The Grilled Australian Lamb Chops were awesome. Despite being a small plate, you’ll be licking your chops on a full stomach when you’re done with this superbly balanced bit. You mainly taste the lamb, but the pesto and garlic add a subtle harmony for a song as strong as Frenchie Davis’s solo in 526,600 Minutes. Just in case you haven’t splurged on Rent yet, that’s the name of the song, not the duration of the solo.

Pappardelle is a like the character of Angel, one you can’t help but love. These ribbons of al dente pasta writhe as flamboyantly and Angel, buoyed by shreds of soft rabbit and a spatter of pecorino sweeter than his songs. (Come on, am I the only one who teared up during "I'll Cover You"?) A credible combination for which my description does no Gjustice.

Like the experience of Broadway, the Butterscotch Pot de Crème is meant to be shared. Each little spoonful of this creamy classic is utterly unforgettable, almost as unforgettable as Roger and Mimi’s duets. The creme coats your tongue with its impossible sweetness, and it’s so rich that just one order may be enough to satisfy the entire cast of Rent…except I’m not about to share something this good.

Gjelina makes amazing food, and Broadway makes amazing musicals, but Gjesus they’re expensive. Prime ingredients are hard to come by, and the quality of the casting is clear, but clarity has never been so costly. Thanks to my intern budget, it may be 525,600 minutes before I can go back to Gjelina for a meal or I’m not gonna pay this month’s Rent.