Cassia - Santa Monica

I know nothing about Singaporean food, but it must be stunning if that's what we ate at Cassia. 

All I know is that Singaporean food is like a newly-married bride. It adds something new to something old, something borrowed, and something blue, and it seems that every dish at Cassia captures that exciting essence.

This gorgeous dish of Vietnamese "Sunbathing" Prawns, for example, is a mix of the best of the sea and the best of several lands. The jumbo prawns are FOB in the only way that that acronym is flattering, and they are soaked to the spine with the red-hot wrath of brazen Fresno chiles that banter with the pungent garlic and silky Vietnamese hot sauce.

The Grilled Pig's Tail is their version of lettuce wraps/lumpia, basically a culinary opportunity for a vegetable to balance out the most delectable, filthy-fat of meats. 

To say that the pig's tail is marbled with fat is an understatement. Individual slivers slide from the bone, a glistening, gristling mix of 50-50 fat and flesh, with a sheath of crackling skin. It tastes less the garden of Eden inside a shell of bright Bibb lettuce enlightened by a melange of fresh herbs and a flicker of fish sauce.

The pig's tail is a hard act to follow, and I thought we would regret getting the Grilled Pork Belly Vermicelli immediately after. But these two pork dishes couldn't be more different. This iteration of a favored cut is served savory and sliced paper-thin with skinny rice noodles to add a little more texture. It's Vietnamese bun with bacon and it's as satisfying as alliteration.

They say the Vietnamese Pot au Feu is their signature dish, and what a dish to stand by. This delectable stew boasts of the softest short rib I've ever seen. It is a certain stand-out, and even the cabbage and potatoes are soaked with an unforgettable soup. There is a striking shank of bone in the middle, full of melting bone marrow.

Dessert kills two birds with a single, decadent stone. The Vietnamese Coffee Pudding is thick like a velveteen mousse, and the dark chocolate cookie is as light as an airy meringue.

The Vanilla Egg Custard tastes like a legend...of the fall. The gingersnap crust conjures a hearth-fire, the pumpkin apple butter is the color of turned leaves falling from scarlet trees, and a ginger apple syrup settles like the cozy comfort of caramel.

I love it. I love it in a way that I don't have the words to express. I've tasted so much of Asia, the real Asia, that I didn't think anything could surprise me. What Cassia did was a sneak-attack on my senses, and every moment was dazzling.

Sage Plant Based Bistro - Culver City

I can sum up my experience at Sage in a single word: cauliflower. 

It sounds boring; it is anything but. A lot of thought and a little bit of whimsy went into this cuisine, and it all starts with the Cauliflower Wings. 

I can't help but giggle when my appetizer hits the table. I smell the acid of buffalo, and somehow they make these slices of shrubs look like wings at a quick glance. The sauce is a stand-out, and the firm-yet-forgiving texture of the cauliflower works it, rather than merely making it work. 

The last thing I want after a plate of cauliflower is another plate of cauliflower, but I am wrong. The Orange Chicken is quite impressive, the same vegetable in a completely different dish. The sauce is thick and just sticky enough to cling to each individual piece, and there is something about the dense tenderness of cauliflower that it could almost be a softer chicken breast. The sauce errs more toward the side of General Tso than orange, but I cannot object to a hybrid that tastes so good. 

The main is meticulously made, but the sides are a neglected afterthought. After an extraordinary preparation of cauliflower, the last thing I want is a plain side of steamed broccoli and rice, which they don't even bother to salt. 

The Butternut Squash Ravioli regains my respect. It can't be easy to make vegan pasta. Say what you will, but there are no true substitutes for the binding and thickening properties of egg. I admire Sage for their ability to adapt; I think it's brilliant to change the texture of the ravioli rather than resign to serving a soggy, eggless mush. The grill creates a more crispy conviction, a perfect contrast to the soft butternut squash within and the chewy kale beneath. I hate kale, but theirs is sauteed very well, and even I can muster a few enjoyable bites. I do wish those ravioli were less flat, however, as the perky pesto tends to drown out the insufficient squash. 

If nothing else, I have learned that there are many distinct ways to cook cauliflower, but my experience at Sage was much more than that. I love that Sage doesn't try to be something other than what it is. They don't approximate meat, that don't make terrible-tasting fake meat; they just cook their veggies and they cook them very well. Not well  enough to turn me vegan, but definitely well enough to give me a new appreciation for plants.

 

Baohaus - Los Angeles

Some of my fondest east coast memories...or lack thereof...are from Baohaus, a complex simple pleasure from the East Village of NYC. A jaunty, late-night haunt in the city that never sleeps, Baohaus has all the qualities of your favorite street food; readily available, easy to eat, prices you can afford, best consumed when drunk and ravenous; while adding its own finesse.

When they opened a branch in LA, I practically flew to the Far East Plaza. 

I start with my favorite Chairman Bao, their clever, practically-cult classic. A fluffy white pillow-skin folds around a slab-chunk of melty, oily, drip-grease-down-your-chin Asian-bacon. The belly is a formidable Berkshire, and a lavish sprinkle of Taiwanese red sugar and nuts makes it sing. 

The Spiceland Bao sounds simple, just a breast of chicken-fried, but this chicken is anything but. A full day of brining softens the brawn, and the batter is meticulously fried to a beautiful golden crisp. The singeing spiciness leaves me wanting more.

My mouth burns pleasurably from the searing spiceland, as the AiYu Jelly Lemonade soothes the scorch with calming gelatin seeds.

Would you like fries with that? You always want Taro Fries with that. Sticks of earthy roots, sauced-up with a cup of hot & sour; this sauce brings down the haus.

I left a lot of good things behind when I transplanted to the west coast. Of all the edible things I lost, I may have missed Baohaus the most. It was easier to find an honest mechanic than it was to find a good bao south of San Gabriel, but thankfully that all changed when Baohaus came to town. 

Poke Bar - Torrance

I... I don't understand. Somewhere between Torrance and El Segundo, something changed for the much MUCH better. I don't know why and I don't know how, but I've gone from boycotting PokeBar to becoming a legitimate fan.

So far, I've only been to El Segundo and Torrance, and in Torrance they do the poke right. The salmon is fresh, and the tuna is light and lean. The spicy tuna is dense with a dash of sriracha-spice, and even the octopus is in more manageable in edible little niblets. Anything goes with spicy mayo, but the mayo here enhances rather than masks. It's just the right amount of small-burn, and they mix a precise proportion. There are plenty of toppings and veggies to make the poke pop, but I'm a minimalist so just the masago will do. The side of crab salad is fine, the seaweed salad is good, and I haven't tried the pickled cucumbers yet but they look pretty tempting. 

Customized poke with fresh fish in generous scoops, just 2 miles away. Sounds too good to be true, but PokeBar Torrance just made that dream real.

Tasty Noodle House - Sawtelle - Los Angeles

I went to an EDM concert and crashed with my friends near Sawtelle. It was go hard or go home, and we went hard and crashed hard. Getting up for lunch was painful, almost as painful as Sawtelle on a Saturday, which is more crowded than Disneyland at Christmas. Painful.

Tsujita: line. Marugame Udon: long-ass line. Tsujita Annex: Line wraps around the block. Blinded by hangovers, hunger, and hanger, we finally stumble across Tasty Noodle House, the only place in town with tables.

The menu is huge, and it has a page of XLB, but after we order, it's not hard to see why no one else wanted to eat there. Their quality is low, far lower than t0he location in Lomita. For starters, more than half of our XLB were actively leaking. No point in soup dumpling when all the soup is gone. We would have sent them back if they didn't take half an hour to make.

The Sheng Jian Bao have fluffy shells, but the bottoms are more soggy than crispy - someone needs to learn to pan-fry. Plus the filling is such a heavy boulder-ball of pork that it drops your stomach like a loopy roller coaster. 

A couple dishes do hit the spot. Not quite a bulls-eye, but close enough to that little green zone on the dartboard to be disputable. The Black Pepper Seafood Rice Cake has the texture right, and we appreciate curative carbs that neutralize our ethanol, but the seafood mix they stir-fried into it tastes like a generic bag from the frozen food aisle at Trader Joe's.

I believe we got the House Sauce Noodles, but the menu didn't depict it with canned carrots and peas. Still, the sauce is something. It packs some peanut punch, channeling a dan dan-brown sauce mash-up. A bit on the mucky side and I had to pick out the peas, but that didn't stop me from slurping.

We always order something green to break up all the heavy meats. The Sauteed Shredded Snake Gourd sounded pretty rad, but it turned out to be something pale, an undercooked green vegetable in a bowl of slimy, tasteless water. Someone needs to learn to saute. 

If there weren't so many lines and I wasn't so short on time, I would have run the other way. The prices here are high for Asian food, and the prices are exorbitant for BAD Asian food. Sad, because my experience at the Lomita location was decent, but after this lunch, I'm never coming back. 

Osteria Mozza UPDATE - Los Angeles

Ah, the holidays...how I hate the holidays. The holidays have a way of bringing out everyone's crazy, and every year, there are so my kinds of crazy. The one crooked ornament on a tree will send one aunt into a frenzy, and a hastily stolen white elephant gift is grounds for a major meltdown. Keep your holiday gifts to yourselves, crazy people. I'll just give myself one of the best dinners in LA and call it a day. 

I may hate holidays for their drama, but I don't hate all the traditions. The Amuse Bouche, for example, is a classic that never gets old. It's olives and burrata just like the last time, and this time, it's just as awesome. A dark, juicy tapenade spreads its wings as salty olives ski across creamy peaks of burrata, a combination as ageless as making an angel in the snow.

Have you seen what Osteria Mozza can do with cheese? Skip the mozza tasting and dig into some of their craftier collaborations. The Burrata & Artichoke, for example, is a savor-haven. The braised artichokes are all heart, and the robust pine nuts and currants light up the branches of a mint pesto tree.

On Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen...On to the Burricotta & Spiced Walnuts... Whoa. Whoa those nuts are nuts! Each nutmeat is bold, encased in a thick shell of spices not so small. They add some zing to the otherwise mellow burricotta. The needles of fried rosemary crackle like a chimney fire, and a veil honey soothes the walnut burn.

The holiday spirit is all about sharing, 'tis better to give than to receive. Nothing nips that in the bud like a plate of Warm Black Dates & Speck. It's a plate made for multiple mouths, but gooey dates and hard-cured ham are a sweet and savory supremacy that I'd rather keep for myself.

The holiday spirit is all about sharing, and the SoCal spirit is all about...seafood. The Linguine stings with mighty ocean waves of fresh, briny clams and burns with the wrath of spicy Fresno chiles that make my 22 in-laws fighting over white-elephant gifts look tame. It looks like just another bowl of pasta, but wow, those peppers make it pop.

I once introduced a friend to snow for the first time in her life. She was from Florida, and she gaped at the two full feet of fresh powder like it was the prettiest sight she'd ever seen. The Goat Cheese Ravioli tastes like that. The cheese is sticky and smooth inside an al dente cocoon, and the five lilies captures a fleeting fragrance, a waft of joy you can taste.

Next comes a peace-on-earth Pappardelle. Good-will-to-men and women alike, as a soft tomato sauce snuggles under ribbon blankets with a hearty niblets of rabbit ragu.

The Duck al Mattone main is probably Osteria Mozza's greatest gift. The skin is super crispy, the fat crackles underneath, and it cackles as it sears the strips of fall-off-the-bone flesh. It's a regift; duck that has been done before, done exquisitely with its own special touch. Wrap it up in a smooth pear mostarda and break through the gristle with bites of sharp sauteed brussels sprouts, and suddenly, it's even better than new. 

We probably didn't need the side of Crispy Sunchokes, but actually we did. I am in love with this love-child of artichoke and potato, an-almost creamy root that finishes like chestnuts roasting on an open fire.

Sharing is caring, and this dinner perfectly captured my holiday spirit. A magical dinner split between the love of my life and two of the best people I've ever known is the only way I see fit to celebrate all the things for which I am thankful. Tis' better to give than to receive, and sharing is caring, but I still disagree because they gave us all the leftovers, and I believe we got the better end of the deal.