Lao Tao - Los Angeles

It’s not much of a food crawl when you only make it to two places, but after Lao Tao, we did have to crawl ourselves out.

If their logo isn’t love at first sight, their Oolong Tea Flavored Egg is. 

They achieve a delicate balance within the humble egg; the salty soy, the fragrant tea, the soft-boil that turns the yolk creamy. The oolong seeps so far in, you can taste it down to the very center of its core. 

The egg is a signature side not to be missed, and the Beef Ban Mien is their main event. The wheat noodles are broad and chewy, strips of curling ribbon that torn by a calculated hand. The hot dry option is max beef, a rich broth with tendinous chunks that turn to slow-cooked gelatin interlacing the tender shreds. A fresh sprinkle of cilantro adds refreshment, and pickled mustard greens are a traditional acid to the fat.

It's even prettier when you mix it up.  

For a change of pace, the Chao Shou is an app to be shared. Wontons coddle a soft ground pork in thin al dente wrappers. The homemade sauce is fantastic, a splash of spice bites an oil that numbs. 

They call it Taiwanese street food, but this stuff wasn’t prepared on a whim. Someone spent agonizing hours perfecting these recipes and it shows. The flavors are full and there is polish to their execution, yet these dishes still hold the soul of the street stalls. Lao Taomay be casual, but they take their food seriously and so should you. 

Far East Food Crawl - Chego! - Los Angeles

It’s a Far East food crawl! First stop: the stools at Chego. 

It’s fast casual a la Roy Choi, and this Chubby Pork Belly doesn’t fall far from the food truck. Savory cuts are painted with kochujung, with pickled radish to cut the fat and sugar. Chinese broccoli rounds out the flavors, and a fried egg yolk seeps through when it breaks.

A well-rounded bowl for sure, easy to eat, all the elements are exact. But it’s a rich and heavy bowl, and even between two people, sharing one is enough if you’re planning to eat again.

Wash it down first with some Shikhye Rice Punch. It’s sweet and light, like the liquid left from washing the rice. Shake well or all the rice stays at the bottom.

Don’t skip the Tres Leches for dessert. A tiny tin packs a potent post-prandial fusion. Devil’s food cake soaks up milk like a sponge. Tapioca and pudding concentrate the sugar, and pinches of cayenne and cinnamon add a little punch, but I’m just here for the peanut brittle. 

Get it to go - Chego isn’t a place to linger. Try some outdoor summer seating inside the plaza or nibble while you’re in line for Howlin’ Ray’s. I’m always down for a good bowl, and a bowl from Chego is one I would eat any time, any place. 

Lasa - Los Angeles

I don’t know much about Filipino cuisine, but I love my limited exposure, which consists of whatever the nurses at county made on Doctor’s Day...and Lasa. It’s a heavy cuisine, full of sauces, fats, and starch, usually in a colorful array, so many textures, colors, temperatures that collaborate and contrast like a palatal opera. 

A fizz-tastic Green Mango Soda starts things off, a not-so-sweet carbonated concoction that tunes up the palate and cleanses it between courses.

The Inasal Skewers are strong, a bold leap into the unfamiliar for me. The tender, chewy texture of chicken gizzards reverberates with the savor of meat laced with ginger in a dark annatto marinade, and sukang sili vinegar sings soprano with bold notes of acid.

My favorite dish is the Rockfish Kinilaw, but it's definitely not for everyone. I'm told it's a Filipino ceviche, but that won't prepare you for patis. Ah, patis. The Chinese have a version of this, but the one here is on steroids. A pungent, punch-in-the-throat fish sauce that tastes like a velvety baritone. It starts so smooth, but it sneaks up from behind to deliver the ultimate sucker-punch, and even the anger-issue cucumbers (i.e. smashed), smooth avocado, and usually neutral watermelon radishes are no match for this patis.

The Inihaw Na Hipon is a bit of a break from the novel and the foreign, a bit whitewashed for the guests who can't handle the strong stuff. It's neutral, like a song someone would play at a garden party, and unobtrusive, nonintrusive, aesthetically pleasing array of blandly-grilled shrimp on sticks. Fried shrimp heads are the best, but these heads need to be better fried. The shell was a bit painful to chew in several places, and I ended up spitting a few pieces out. 

Of the entrees, the Twice Cooked Pork Belly is the table's favorite, and it's hardly fair. There's a giant slab of juicy, crispy-on-the-outside belly that releases rivers of fat-juice. Smokey eggplant puree and fresh summer squash are embittered by ampalaya powder, a healthy contrast to all that fabulous fat. 

The Surf & Turf is an interesting interpretation. I've never had longanisa before so I don't really have a basis of comparison, but I do like it. The filling is gentler than I expected, lightly spicy and lightly spiced. I do wish they had done something more with the octopus, though. 

The Lumpia Sariwa hits a sour note with me. I HATE any food that's been deconstructed. The sauteed mix of peanut-sour cabbage, root vegetables, etc are a delicious hot mess, but not putting it together changes a spring roll into a fall-apart salad. Other than the crepe getting soggy, it really does taste good, but deconstructing is like taking something someone else made and not being bothered to put it back together when you're done, and most people don't appreciate that.

The dessert menu is promising...so we ordered it. All of it. The Market Fruit Ginataan is a less sweet and likable lighter option, coconut cream with peaches and tapioca.

You can't go wrong with Condensed Milk Ice Cream with a coat of black sesame polvoron, and this one probably the best dessert in Far East Plaza, even with Scoops only ten feet away.

The Kesong Puti Fritters are the underdog a mix that sounds like it could be exceptional...or an exceptional disaster. The fritters are fine, like a firmer beignet from NoLa, and the salted duck egg custard is a brilliantly creative topcoat, a sandy icing of yolk and salt.

I like Lasa. I don't love Lasa, but I like it. The food has potential, and I see definite glimpses of genius despite what little I know about the cuisine. I would eat here again in a heartbeat, just to experience the full variety that they have to offer, and maybe next time, they'll have ironed out the kinks.

Ten Ren's Tea Time - Los Angeles

Bobaaaaaa! Chewy little Chinatown pearls, black tea, green tea, milk tea, peach tea, every kind of tea you can dream of, all under one tea-shop roof.

There's a robust Oolong, softened with milk and sweetened by honey, and a premium Honey Crysanthemun, beautiful and floral, and worth every penny for the extra 25 cents. 

Ten Ren's has made itself a staple in the Far East Plaza. An ideal cool-down for a hot day or a warm comfort on a cold one, boba is the perfect filler for an afternoon snack or a time-killer as you wait in line for Howlin' Ray's. 

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.