The Donut Man - Grand Central Market - Los Angeles

I would totally go to Glendora for something so special, but I sure am grateful they brought it to Grand Central. 

This legendary Strawberry Donut is surely the sweet soul of SoCal cuisine. Because SoCal cuisine is quite simple, but the devil's in the details. Those sunkissed strawberries are in season, and that's the only time they're used. The fluffy fried shell that holds them is this perfect fluffy yet substantial donut, covered in a single, smooth layer of glaze, just enough to make a thin skin, but not so much as to overshadow the dough in the doughnut. A smear of syrup gives those whole, fresh strawberries a bit of a boost as well and sticks them together to make the filling more cohesive. It tastes like a sweet, sunny SoCal day, stunning in its simplicity. 

They also do a nice Old Fashioned - the outside crust keeps its crunch, and the inside is firmly soft. A gentle glaze will give you the flavor of chocolate, but the donut still shines through. My favorite is their Tiger Tail, a brown baton of cinnamon stripes and glaze that's firm outside and plush within. 

We had our donuts mid-day, but I wish we'd come early. I loved every bite here, but hot and fresh out of the oven would have made something already super into something truly superb.

Grand Central Market: G&B Coffee, Clark St Bakery - Los Angeles

A dollar for a ride down the Angels Flight deposits you in front of the iconic GCM. 

A steaming Cappuccino and a sweet Ethiopian drip await at a convenient counter. Standing room only, elbow height for composure as you consume your daily coffee. Good service, friendly and efficient, not at all brusque or overbearing. Great start to the day, best start to a morning food fest. 

The line at Eggslut is unbearable, but it's Toast Tuesday right next to that pacing pile-up. A mere $6 buys a slab of bread with waves of avocado piled a whole inch thick. The seasoning is perfect, with chili flakes to add a little fire. 

Even BCD's Godmother hasn't got a chance compared to this Jambon-Beurre. Soft country ham covers this crusty roll, and nutty aged comte is given a lift by acidic yellow mustard and crunchy cornichons. 

It's an adventure every time. There's always something new, whether it's sipping a halo halo at Sari Sari or grabbing a taco to go. I don't know if I'll ever get everything I want here. The new stuff always pops up, and the classics never get old.

Sari Sari Store - Los Angeles

“Guess what I ate?” has become “Guess what? I ate!” Food was always a passion in life, and I always believed that life was too short to not eat well. 

Well that passion is gone and I’m left with an appetite that accommodates nothing, and I force feed myself crackers to stay alive. 

This is the first protein I’ve had for days. This bowl of Sisig Fried Rice has bits of fatty pork head are a liquid melt, and the crispies add some texture. The peppers add a little pep, and they incorporate the onion to for a sharper contrast. The gooey fried egg glues it all together, and considering I can barely smell meat without gagging these days so you can bet when I’ve eaten at least 12 bites, Sari Sari must have done something right. 

I almost finished the Halo Halo, and that's another minor miracle in itself. It’s icy and light with layers of watermelon slush, textured tapioca, and a leche flan that has cream for days.

I'm far less familiar with Filipino food, and it's a genre I want to get to know. It's a rarer find, but GCM can always be counted upon. I have little basis for comparison, but I can objectively say Sari Sari is delicious

Grand Central Market food crawl - Los Angeles

First stop: The Oyster Gourmet. 

Spoiler alert; gourmet oysters. Super fresh and freshly shucked to order. A dozen to share, people squeamish about shellfish, beware. These are some of the freshest oysters I’ve had in LA, and if you’re not an oyster fan, some of these might convert you. 

The smallest hail from Sunset Beach Washington, concentrated all-butter nubbins of minimal brine. The ones on the right are from Paradise Cove in British Colombia, a most buttery better-balanced butter and brine. The Gray Pearl from Baja are a little more briny, but they taste more like sea air than brackish water. 

The Scallop Ceviche is too pretty to eat. Supple bay scallops served in a mermaid shell, pliable piles of tender tops. A glowing gob of orange masago adds texture to a light lake of vinegar.


A side trip to DTLA Cheese turns into a full platter of five cheeses, and even for two, their generosity presents a delightful challenge.

There’s a soft slice of Brebirousse D’Argental, a double-cream sheep in all its milky glory. Narrow triangles of Pantaleo express a the brighter notes of goat’s milk, and the L’amuse Brabander is the same goat but so much sweeter. The Matos St. Jorge is an assertive cow, and the Belamy Blue moos from Tennessee. It’s a less pungent bleu with a sweeter finish, comforting like a soft Southern drawl. 


There would be more, but the cheese platter derails us. Alas, the food journey ends at Kismet Falafel. 

We opt for the Classic Falafel, and the fried balls of batter do not disappoint. They are salty, but it’s that salt that shines through the fluffy pita and overshadows the earthy tahini. The pickles pack some acid, and the lettuce and tomato add some spring to the mix. 



The cool-down comes from G&B Coffee, a Cappuccino freshly-brewed, with aromatic beans to die for. I’m not a coffee fanatic, but I know a perfect cup when I see it.

Olio GCM Wood Fired Pizzeria - Los Angeles

Olio is pretty cozy for a place in the middle of a food court where tranquility is massacred by foot traffic. Their oven is a still fueled by firewood, and you can watch them cultivate your made-to-order pizza from amorphous dough to a masterpiece Margherita. 

Each ingredient matters here, each one lends its own voice to the harmony. The tangy tomato sauce carries roasted undertones. The tomato is fresh, but there's a richness to it that perks up supple slices of fresh mozzarella. Grana Padano adds a softer touch compared to traditional parmesan, aged against budding basil leaves.

The same rich tomato sauce slathers the 3 Cheese Pizza. The cover is a blended blanket of milky mozzarella, pungent Irish Cheddar, and grainy Grana Padano. It's the ultimate cheese pizza, one of the best variations of this classic I've had.

GCM can be an overwhelming maze, but there are no wrong turns to take. Olio is a comfort-food, beer on tap option, one of so many affordable options under a single roof. So many choices; this one is my first.

Grand Central Market - Los Angeles

My bachelorette party has to start somewhere, and noon is a bit early for a bar. There won't be booze until later, but food is hardly the next best thing. And what better way to start the day than to stand in a fancy court surrounded by food?

Wexler's Deli

We might be surrounded by food, but I ignored it all. There's only one path for me, and all roads lead to Wexler's. I've read so many features, so many breathtaking pieces highlighting this legendary deli; magnum opuses written with an eloquence I will never possess. 

The way these articles describe the Lox and Cream Cheese Bagel induce instant salivation to the point that you will want to grab your keys and find the nearest package of salmon for a taste of pink velvet. And those descriptions are right on. 

The Pastrami, however, I could have done without. It was as bland as it was dry. And not just dry or just a little overheated, it was parched. It crumbled like a sad, droopy jerky. 

Valerie

We needed a pick-me-up after a lackluster pastrami, and Valerie, with its sweet smells and warm feels, was irresistible.

I got the Rose Petal Petit Four. It tastes like a delicate floral breeze, petals floating in the wind. The layers of cake are dense and moist, and the sleek chocolate coating is creamy and sweet. There's so much satisfaction packed into this tiny petit four, I better be back for more.

At Grand Central Market, there are a lot of choices all around. One day I'll work up the patience to stand in the Eggslut line, and maybe next time I'll slurp an up oyster or bite into a dripping brat at Currywurst. Whatever I do, I probably won't go back to Wexler's, but Valerie deserves revisits.