Nozomi - Torrance

There are too many choices for sushi in the South Bay. 

Nozomi is yet another hole-in-the-wall, just one more joint buried in a strip mall...or so it seemed. 

Nozomi is not "yet another" or "just another" anything. The quality is crazy-high, the flavors and skill are manifest, and this "just another joint" is treasure-trove of truly great sushi, each piece is its own hidden gem.

The Sushi Dinner cuts to the chase, a full plate that is, simply, everything. Start with the cold fat droplets of toro that unfold in glistening gristle inside a scallion roll. Move on to the fat strips that glow ruby-red on the nigiri Toro.  The Amberjack is a delicate, buttery pearl, and a bit of garnet Bluefin is a meaty chaser. A Goldeneye Snapper shimmers with a rosy glow, and a freshly-shucked Snow Crab finished wispy and sweet.

The Orange Clam is a pleasing brine, the citrine Salmon satisfies, and the Spanish Mackerel shoots rays of fishy, silver sheen. The Ikura bursts into liquid goo, and the Uni is a perfect cream.

So satiated but still wanting more, we revel in a Uni & Unagi bowl. The eel peels off in soft slices of sweet flesh, and the velvety uni rests, sinking its encircling embrace around each grain of smooth sushi rice. This is a bowl you can delve into and get lost in for days.

Nozomi is a small space, but their dishes feel bigger than that. A deal at that price, a steal for skipping the LA traffic and parking. Four years and hundreds of restaurants later, I still feel like I haven't unearthed all that the South Bay has to offer, but if there are more places like Nozomi, I sure will enjoy the digging.

Taishi Hainan Chicken - Redondo Beach

I can't handle too many choices. Giant menus bring me agony, and servers hover because I can't decide and I have to be extra about it. 

There's someone for everyone, and Taishi and I are meant to be. $12 time 2 equals dinner and a light lunch for two, and for that drive-thru price, you get all the chicken. And you even get all the chicken delivered.

There's Fried Chicken if blanched and boiled isn't your thing. Satisfying white meat in crunchy breading stays impressively spry after 20 minutes en route.

All the chicken is good depending on your mood, but accept no substitutes for the Original Hainan Chicken Rice. The garlic ginger rice soaks up the chicken broth, and the garlic adds a subtle, chopstick-licking pungent savor-upper. The broth-y rice is 50 shades of beige, and it's good enough to rival the impossibly tender shreds of chicken. Both sauces are strong, a viscous soy and a tangier ginger spice up the steamed strips of chicken.

I'm a bad Asian so I don't know whether this is authentic, holy-grail Hainan chicken or not. But good is good, especially when it's delivered in a box of casual comfort, and it's good enough to not be questioned.

Tower 12 - Hermosa Beach

I love quoting song lyrics. It's an unhealthy obsession really, but I can't stop, won't stop. Setting feelings, emotions, and everyday hustle, bustle, and struggle into words that roll off the tongue and bounce on the beat is possibly the most fascinating thing I've ever witnessed. 

In case you actually read my reviews...though seriously, why do you have that much spare time?...you'd see the copious lyrical quotes, a testament to my fascination...and complete lack of creativity. 

But I can't not do this again. This one is too good because I swear, Andy Grammar must have been sitting at the bar at Tower 12 when he wrote "Honey, I'm Good."

"It's been a long night here, and a long night there, and these long, long legs are damn near everywhere." Welcome to the Tower 12, floor 2, a restaurant-bar/mostly a bar with an extensive menu, full of all the beauties of Hermosa Beach and those who pursue them...but mostly those who pursue them. 

For all the company lacks in character, Tower 12 does compensate with a decent happy hour deal. It's hard to turn down a giant fish-bowl-glass margarita for the price of a regular, and once I get that halfway down, I'm happy to give their menu a chance.

"Oh baby, no baby, you got me all wrong baby." The Organic Salmon on Cedar has none of my love. The salmon is covered in an overpowering miso, sweet and sticky, which does nothing to protect it from the desiccating flames. It's about as hard and dry as the plank it was grilled on. 

The Caramelized Creamed Corn is the opposite of dry, but it's just okay. Corn swims in creme, but it's not creme caramel.

The Ahi Tuna Bahn Mi Burger is better, but a robust tuna steak just didn't need all the other nonsense. Still, the combination of fresh mint, peanuts, and pickles jives with the tuna, so I can't exactly say that this sandwich is not my jam. 

The margaritas are still flowing, and the company is well worth staying for a few more bites. "Now check it out, I've got [them] and [they] got me," the Cheese Steak Poppers taste like ass, and I can't leave. But seriously, what is this hot mess? Cheese fondue mostly, sickening with the dry ribeye, smothering with the promising Yorkshire pop over crust. 

The only thing that I don't mind is the Cauliflower Tempura. It's neutral, but it's pleasantly lightly fried with a crisp cover and a fresh Greek yogurt dip.

A couple of decent dishes, and a great location. I love the pier breeze that blows by my glass, but Hermosa has much better food anywhere else. So "nah nah, honey I'm good. I could have another but I probably shouldn't."

Baroo - Los Angeles

It's rare that food can be such a masterpiece. Rarer still is food like this that comes from an unmarked strip-mall stall. Of all the chefs I've tried, I can count the ones that rival Baroo on a single hand. But those chefs, there is not a single one that hasn't achieved international fame and acclaim; not a single one of them hides out in this humble, single-room, twenty-seater where Kwang Uh soldiers on. 

Everything is different at Baroo. With all the variations on a theme I've seen, all the unusual, the bizarre, the good, the bad, the original, the inexplicable; I've seen nothing like Baroo. Heralded as a "fermentation lab" by LA Weekly and the LA Times, Baroo does deliver mason jars of curiosities but also so much more.

A trip to Baroo cannot be completed without a dish of pickles, however, and the feisty Red Onion with a dash of rose smooths out the vinegar sting, and the Cabbage with pineapple jus crunches in a matter so satisfying, borne on a wave of tropical tang.

Fermentation is preserver of food, but it is also an incubator of thirst. I swore I'd never give into the Kombucha cult, but water will never quench my curiosity. How to describe kombucha? The fermentation resembles harsh carbonation, initially a hint of sweet, ending acidic and almost metallic. An acquired taste, for sure, but one acquired readily, with surprisingly little resistance. The Elderflower is a fragrant melody, staccato and sophisticated. The Lemon Verbena is cold and refreshing, the pickle juice from a jar of lemon peel.

Ordering isn't easy at Baroo. The chalkboard menu is thoroughly descriptive, but I have no way to anticipate what anything will taste like, no inkling of what each order holds. 

The Asian Fever is chosen for its name. Long grains of Amira basmati rice form a textured base for this dish, spiced up with a "southeast asian inspired house mix" that coats each pan-seared grain equally, individually. The bite bites back as a lighter lemongrass sinks into sake lees while coconut foam floats on air. There's a hint of citrus lime, and a crispy shrimp chip adds an unexpected element of ocean.

Handmade pasta gets a fist-pumping "yes", and Baroo's Ragu Style is not a choice - it's a must. The spicy oxtail "faux ragu" is dense and so rich you can feel it sink down clear into your toes. Tendon puff is a lighter, equally savory twist on a traditional pork rind. the tomato and gremolata is the Mediterranean essence while gochujang throws in with parmigiano reggiano for an epic east-meets-west.

We choose the Noorook for its name, a red wonder is what came. A heaven of grains formed by Jobs tears, farro, and kamut ferry a sweet beet creme. Kombu dashi adds a dash of attitude, and toasted seeds are plucked up by onion pickles and fingerlime for a dish so grounded you could imagine eating it straight from the earth.

The Karma Circulation. A rice-on-rice bowl sounds almost boring under a blackboard like Baroo's, but the rice bowl that rules all rice bowls is anything but. The KFChicken is the tenderest chicken this lifetime will see, breaded so flawlessly and seasoned so effortlessly I could have sworn it was born that way. Gochujang aioli seeps into the crevices created by rice and corn, and a soft-boiled egg in a bath of chili soy is an add-on option that transforms chicken-rice to a golden goose.

The Celeriac started as an afterthought. My dislike for the crude, all-encompassing, all-suppressing crudite was never a secret, but curiosity is an unrelenting master. The handmade pasta is absolutely perfect to no one's surprise, but the celery root in cloudy cream is absolutely captivating. The root vegetable version is earthier and more grounded than the fleeting after-school snack, and it pulls me deep into the dish, a celery-reverie that breaks only when the last bite is gone.

I don't know how to describe Baroo. It is so different, so unlike anything I've seen. The menu is diary into the brilliant mind of a chef like none other, a playground into a genius soul. Each dish hits deeply, and every bite hits hard. Yet the flavors have an air of whimsy, an element of rarely-forgotten fun. Each individual ingredient is placed with intention, and every flavor serves a certain purpose, a piece of a far more complex puzzle. I don't know if I'll ever piece it all together, but I sure will enjoy every minute I try.

Riviera Mexican Grill - Redondo Beach

I had literally no expectations going in, probably because I never wanted to go in. Two years living on top of the Riviera, and I never gave it a second thought. It looked as pretentious as it did generic, and worst of all, it looked boring. Because I am an insufferable snob.

Well Riviera Mexican Grill isn't totally boring. It's not The Abbey on a Saturday night, but it's vibrant and colorful with a generically-friendly, beachy theme. 

I beach a lot about the lack of good food in the riviera, but I'll never say no to lobster. And far as lobster goes, I could do a lot worse then the Three Cheese Lobster Quesadilla. It's one of the better brunches of the bunch; generous chunks of mostly claw meat with plenty of cheese at a price that doesn't claw at your wallet.

The Grilled Chicken Burrito is a giant. Proportionate combination of rice, black beans, chicken, and cheese, drizzled with three very different salsas. The mole-style finishes sweet, the orange is playful, and the dark red tastes deeply roasted. It'd be a boring burrito, but the salsas really spice it up.

I just can't. I really like Riviera Mexican Grill, but I can't make it exciting. I can't get all fired up about those steadfast salsas, and even my love for lobster doesn't get me hot and bothered about that quesadilla. It's not sexy, it's not novel, but it is as reliable as it is endearing. Quality and quantity are not to be underrated or overlooked, and though I'm not clamoring for a return trip, nothing would keep me from coming back again.