Sentimental at Sushi Studio – Long Beach

We like to believe that we meet our closest friends during the best parts of our lives. But I think we meet our closest friends during the worst, most inconvenient times in our lives. I believe that because I met Shamini when we were in med school.

The worst part of med school is the exams. No matter how prepared I am, the very pillars that hold up the earth come crashing down around my ears the day before exams, or so you would think by the way I carry on. I think the first thing I noticed about Shamini is that for all my talent in turning every multiple choice question into a life-and-death situation, every essay into hours of agony, and every erasable bubble into the point of no return…for every one of those things I can do, Shamini can do better.

But that’s not why we’re friends. Though we’re equally dramatic, our friendship has no drama. Whether it’s putting aloe on each other’s backs after a terrible decision of omission (i.e. too cool for sunscreen) in Puerto Rico, choosing which dishes to split on a random dinner out, or planning a bachelorette on a budget less than a week in advance, there’s nothing we can’t do together.

There’s never a time Shamini and I aren’t happy, and apparently there’s never a non-happy time at Sushi Studio either. Like our friendship, Sushi Studio may look like an ordinary diner, but you have to be in it to understand just how special it is. Especially when it comes to price. Like most place, happy hour is too short for those who work like dogs…ahem…residents. But infinity hour picks up where happy hour left off and lasts the rest of the night.

Soon we were digging into two types of Seaweed Salad and a decent, not-even-the-tiniest-bit-rubbery Calamari Salad at prices so cheap even our student loans didn’t flinch.

The Salmon Poke had a subtly sassy sauce that poked some fun into our mouths…almost as much fun as I poke at Shamini for showing up an hour late…to my apartment… across the street from hers…every time.

But it was my work that kept piling up that night so I pushed our dinner back more times than there were slices in an order of fresh, skillfully-cut Salmon Sashimi.

And when I waltzed in 2 hours later than we had planned, Shamini didn’t say a thing. Because unlike me, she can be sweeter than the eel that tops that Las Vegas Roll. And Shamini keeps my secrets way better than Vegas.

I don’t exactly choose my friends aesthetically, but anyone who knows her would agree. Everyone knows that Shamini is beautiful…except Shamini. Despite what she may think, she looks even better in mango than the Sexy Girl Roll and despite the perfect mix with mayo and shrimp, she’s even better put-together…just not the night before an exam. But don’t bother arguing, she could make a saint look conceited.

Shamini and I didn’t meet during the best part of my life or the best part of hers, but maybe that’s why I need her. She adds her wisdom with an occasional shot of optimism, and I never doubt for a moment that she’ll try to catch me every time I fall. Because of her, I have more happy memories than this Volcano Roll has ingredients, and like the spicy mayo, Shamini makes everything better just because she’s there.

The best part about making friends during the worst part of life is that you can share the best parts too. Shamini and I shared our purgatory, and we split all that med school and residency have to dish out. And when all is over, we can finally share the sweet stuff too, the Fried Ice Cream after our sushi storm.

After Midnight at Myung Dong - Los Angeles

When two or more girls go to the bathroom at the same time, it's considered normal. When two or more guys go to the bathroom at the same time, there's a very limited number of places you can be. Before my butt even touched my chair at Myung Dong, I knew I was in one of THOSE places...Two guys were carrying a clearly struggling third. Annnnd that's how you know you're at an Asian restaurant at 2 AM.

I was driving so I was stone-cold sober, but you don't have to be drunk to enjoy the food. But you do have to be a little thick-skinned to tolerate the crowd at 2 AM, unlike the Pork and Shrimp Dumplings. These little balls of thin, chewy skin encase a surprisingly fluffy center of meat laced with chives.

The Galbi was a bit of a splurge, but that salty-sweet sauce says it all. Served on a sizzling platter, a mere scent will set you salivating.

I usually don't go out at night, and the rowdiness here reminds me of why. But if I have to stumble upon anything at 2AM, Myung Dong is one of my better stumbles. No disappointing dishes here except maybe the excessively garlicky Kimchee, which put quite the damper on my...after-party. Then again, despite my breath becoming a lethal weapon for the entire following week, I'll never regret Myung Dong after midnight.

Asa Ramen - Gardena

It almost doesn't matter where you go for ramen in the South Bay, it matters more where you go for ramen first. Because in South Bay, you have good ramen, great ramen, and the best ramen. The best is a toss-up between Santouka, Yamadaya, and Shinsegumi IMHO, but that really depends on who you ask. But if you're not willing to wait in line for the best, you really can't go wrong.

Especially not with a bowl of Asa's Kotteri Shoyu Ramen. The soup base is a solid salt broth with good pork flavor and just enough oil to keep you interested. 

The Spicy Ramen sucks. It may be their most popular dish but no way it's legit. The soup is miserable mouthfuls of straight sriracha combined with the flavor of...nothing else. One spoonful was more than enough for me as this is clearly a concoction that will burn both ends of the...spectrum.

You can't go wrong with ramen in South Bay, but I wish I'd gone to Asa first. Asa aces the Shoyu broth and they clearly know their noodles. Asa is good but my Santouka-Yamadaya-Shinsegumi triad is so much better.

Forgettable Fig - Santa Monica

Everyone knows how much I love a good meal out. There's no feeling like sinking my teeth into a delectable delicacy or cutting into a creativity I myself could never consider. All that cutting and chewing will cost you, but what you pay for is an experience that you'll never forget.

Company aside, Fig turned out to be the exact opposite of the experience I aim to buy...unless I'm investing in a quinoa cleanse. The Quinoa starter, with its soft grains of America's newest superfood mixed with apples, carrots, and a nutty crunch, was the ultimate mix of hearty and light, an artful assembly of sweet and tart, chewy and crisp.

Unfortunately, this is where the need-to-pay-someone-else-for-the-experience aspect ends. The Tomato Soup is tangy-fresh, but you'll get thrice for half the price if you trade it for a carton of Tomato and Roasted Red Pepper Soup from your favorite Trader by the name of Joe. To replicate the entire experience, simply spread some high-end mascarpone on a crostini, dunk into your freshly microwaved soup, and enjoy in the comfort of your own home.

The middle of my meal was no better. The Short Rib can be braised halfway-tender In a generic red wine-ish reduction in any kitchen and any pan. Just add a side of too-salty greens and serve it on a pretty platter.

I've had better short rib, but at least I could describe it as edible. The Chicken was like chewing on strips of suede. Dry and bland with nothing notable except a crispy, salt-less skin, I wouldn't even want to make this at home unless I lived in seawater. At least the chicken with orange sauce at Trader Joes comes with some kind of flavor.

These entrees had me begging for mercy, which the Panna Cotta delivered...in the form of mousse. Because it didn't really have the creamier, looser texture of panna cotta. But the last time I tried making mousse it looked like tapioca and tasted like items not considered food so I don't dare say I could try this at home.

Panna cotta could school the most skilled of chefs, but the Strawberry Tres Leches Cake will turn any kitchen klutz into an dessert chef extraordinaire. To replicate, leave a slice of angel food cake uncovered for half a day, slather on a rather rubbery sauce, slap on a scoop ice cream, and spoon on some sliced strawberries and jam.

Despite the abysmal entrees, I held out hope for a happy ending, but it turns out those only happen in Disneyland...which is even more expensive than a decent meal. Everyone knows I'll be the first to splurge on both dinner and Disneyland...and maybe even dinner at Disneyland, but why pay more when you can do it yourself for less? Forget Fig, next time I want organic I'll be eating at (Trader) Joes.

Common Crema Cafe - Long Beach

I've always been a Francophile, but it's all about the Spanish in SoCal. But the French have a way of crepe-ing up on me when I least expect it, especially at a cafe whose name is likely Spanish.

This cafe brews a pretty good cup of unlimited cafe, just make sure it's not too lait in the day to enjoy a cup. And I can't think of a much better way to start your day than coffee and a Breakfast Crepe. I chose it without the chorizo, which makes it a little blander but lightens it up a lot. Eggs with potato and avocado are always a winning combination, and you'd be an oeuf if you didn't pay the extra for sweet potato fries.

The breakfast crepe was a winner even if I was a wiener for skipping the Spanish sausage. The Proscuitto & Mozzerella Crepe, however, turned out to be a franc-ly terrible choice. The sheer amount of proscuitto was an overshoot, and even the chewy strings of mozzerella couldn't save me from succumbing to the feuille affect of the half-bottle of olive oil that drenched it. Nausea can be quite the pest-o when you're trying to enjoy your day.

Crema Cafe was okay, but if I'm going to drive all the way to Long Beach I need a better reason. I definitely don't regret going, but Eiffel-ly support the decisions to go somewhere else. 3 stars for an honest effort, but I'd add one more star if my crepe could be oil-frite.

Poor Performance at Ports O' Call Waterfront Dining - San Pedro

The food during restaurant week is rarely reflective of the actual quality of the restaurant. I usually only hope it's edible, and I don't even expect it to be good. But the camaraderie of a night out with friends and the irresistible spread of almost-affordable meals is a recipe even I can't resist. So when my friend suggested Ports O' Call, I couldn't help but take the plunge.

We sat and I started thinking that maybe I was exceedingly cynical, overly skeptical, or even just too critical. Okay, fine, maybe I am...but even in the pitch dark of 8 pm the waterfront view went over swimmingly, and the table settings gave it a hint of outdated class. And the meal started out with a pretty strong selection at the unlimited Salad Bar. Sure the lettuce sunk my ship (it was iceberg...GROAN) but how combative can you be when there's caviar at the end?

The Tuna Poke was probably the best thing on the menu. And who can object to fresh fish interspersed with bites of avocado? A little heavy on the sauce, but the fried chips were awesome even if they did override the more delicate taste of tuna.

I'm Asian so the Asian-Roasted King Salmon was an obvious choice, but if this is in any way representative of the continent of my birth, I'm either embarrassed or insulted. The salmon itself was a little dry but definitely a decent cut. I once quoted Tom Colichio from Top Chef, "I don't like seafood swimming in liquid because that's where it came from." Turns out the land isn't so great either. The so-called soy-miso-tamarind reduction suffered an over-reduction of all liquid content, which resulted in that muddy brown mess under the salmon, and the slimy chunks of shitake mushrooms really didn't help.

I've never been one to complain about portion size, but it's worth noting Ports O' Call portions are exceptionally generous. Each entree swims on an ocean-size plate, and the Ports O' Call Cioppino was no exception. The thick tomato-y soup had a nice kick of spice and was nicely swamped with all sorts of shellfish, but I stewed a little over the fact that the seafood flavor was undetectable in the stew. It wasn't half  bad but whoever gave it an award has probably gone fishing.

With a promising starter and a miserable main, I could only hope that the company wouldn't be the only enjoyable part of my night. Luckily the Bread Pudding didn't leave me without a paddle, but it wasn't enough to keep me from jumping ship when the check came. It was fine really, but bread pudding buffs beware, it's a step down from special and only a step up from cafeteria.

Sloppy salmon aside, this place might almost have potential. Then again, if you still wanted to try anything other than appetizers at after reading this review, I would probably think you'd gone off the deep end.