Artelice Patisserie - Los Angeles

I cannot imagine the skill that goes into each mini-masterpiece behind one of LA's most beautiful pastry cases, and I fear to ask how much time goes into creating these works of art.

In what looks to be a scale model of the bush-ripened tart little tam, a silky chocolate mousse cohabits with a very soft gel-jam that sits upon an airy sponge in the raspberry-within-a-raspberry Framboiselle.

The elaborate Saint Honore houses puff pastries with the most perfect vanilla cream. The crunchy crust is a beautiful honeyed luxury, and every bite is a cotton-cloud dream. 

Even the box is most beautiful, watercolor flowers across a gray-blue sky. 

You can't leave without a bag of Macarons, and though we chose the colors of a muted eyeshadow palette, the flavors are hardly subdued. Yuzu is a hit of citrus, the mango passion fruit, a tang. Sea salt caramel is sweet, pistachio has nutty notes, hazelnut is a marriage between the two. Matcha is earthy, earl grey is a robust tea. 

Very fancy, the utmost in upscale, a lasting example of the mastery of classic technique and precision in a world that runs on machine-rolled muffins and grocery-store croissants. Beautiful and impressively delicious, every item here is meant to be slowly savored, though you'll be very quick to run back for just a few macarons more. 

Ban Ban Burger - Los Angeles

In a world full of boring old burgers, Ban Ban Burger does a bang up job. 

Smash burgers have come and gone, but the Grapow Smash is here to stay. Not only are the beefy bits juicy and savory beneath their grill-seared crust, the grapow mix sears its own path with a sweet and feisty chili finish. Pickles add some perk as cheese and aioli add some cream, and egg yolk runs to the rescue to soften the burn.

The Wagyu Laab Smash is a less impactful, subtly sweet and significantly softer for those who don't want to burn. The herbal notes are quiet, sweetness dominating pickles and cheese. 

Something about the Satay Katsu Sando hits. The panko cutlet is perfection, but it's really how that peanut sauce sinks into the milky bread that adds an extra layer of umami. 

Not enough? Try a side of Papaya Fries. Gooey sweet-sticks with varying levels of ripeness make a most satisfying crunch, best when dipped in that super-sweet side sauce. 

With multiple unique spices and seasoning, Ban Ban Burger does what very few can; this little burger joint manages to be memorable. Despite having had many a delicious burger, these are the only ones I remember. And if anyone asks where I want to go for my next burger, only Ban Ban comes to mind. 

Tuk Tuk Thai - Los Angeles

It's weird to not eat Japanese food on Sawtelle but this little Thai street food stop makes a strong case to skip the ramen just one. The chef here has a winning recipe, it seems; any food + high heat is a winner. 

Their interpretation of the Chive Pancake is a whimsical one and I love it. The batter is served in small rectangles, seared on all sides for a delightfully crispy crust with a starchy center that's soft and chewy. It wades in a sticky brown sauce, sweet with a little bit of tang. It's a high price for a small portion, but I'd get it again if it came with more. 

Shrimp Balls are exactly that, fried chunks in sweet chili sauce. Straightforward but what's not to like about fried balls of shrimp?

Moo Kluk Foon is a delicate little plate of fried pork jowl, an underrated and overlooked cut of incredibly tender meat. The outside has the thinnest crust with a coat of rice powder to bring out the savory notes. 

Pad Zee Ew Moo Krob tastes like a street stall staple, a latticework of delicate angel hair noodles with crispy pork belly bits. Good, but not so memorable.

Khao Soi Chicken is where it's at. The coconut curry is thick and sweet with an entire quarter of chicken on top. The meat is tender and more than enough to share, but I do wish they'd included more egg noodles to balance it out. 

Thai Tea is technically a dessert but is better for washing down this meal. They make a nice iced coffee as well. 

The Tapioca Pudding is a small portion of tapioca with cubes of soft taro and tender coconut. Nice texture, not too sweet for a lighter end to a rather filling meal. 

It's not Japanese but it's good enough to stand up on Sawtelle. Good food, good execution, great lunch deal with DineLA. Even without the deal, I dare say I'd come again.

Killer Noodle Tsujita - Los Angeles

Killer Noodle is a bit like Indian food. In order to have Indian food, you have to WANT Indian food. But when you want it and it's good, there is no satisfaction like the kind you get from a spicy tikka masala, and nothing hits the spicy-noodle spot like Killer Noodle.

Prepare yourself. The Szechuan spice creeps up, first a spreading numbness, followed by the sweet, sizzling burn of Szechuan chilis that you can't quite perceive. You feel the burn through the numb, the numb through the burn; pins and needles, alternating dull and sharp. It messes with your mind, and it hurts so good. 

Pair it with the yogurt drink if you're weak like me because my Downtown Style Dan Dan Noodles with numb and spice at a 3 are bringing out the sweat.

Downtown style is more peanut-strong while the Tokyo Style is more about sesame and pork. The server said the opposite, but my tastebuds said otherwise. Both different, both done equally well. Noodles al dente, and they miraculously don't get soggy in a take-home box. The sauce does soak in for an extra numbing burn with time, and it only gets better. 

The Tokyo Style with soup is more like a very spicy, slightly denser ramen, and it's the perfect thing on a winter day. Let the burn soothe the throat as the spice numbs your core to the cold. 

The Chashu Bowl is a fun little guilty pleasure to get on the side. The pork fat melts between the grains of rice, and there's a nice chargrilled taste to it. 

One of the newest additions to Sawtelle, Killer Noodle manages to be both comforting in its familiarity and exciting with its novelty. Make sure you have a spicy noodle craving before you go, but TBH, I think I'll be craving it fairly often. 

Chinchikurin - Los Angeles

I tried okonomiyaki once. It was late at night in Kyoto, and we stumbled along the uneven alleys and inconsistent cobblestone to a rambunctious shop that made only one thing and made it very poorly. It was a disaster, a mess of random ingredients; weird pickles, overcooked noodles, and slimy sauce that I can only describe as what the kitchen floor would taste like after the kitchen was hit by a violent hurricane. I thought I hated okonomiyaki, but I guess I only hated bad okonomiyaki.

Chinchikurin is a game-changer. Their namesake Chinchikurinyaki is a boss mix of seasoned ground beef and eggs wrapped around al dente noodles. The slightly-sticky soy-based sauce is a viscous wonder.

The Loaded Kaisen is probably best enjoyed when loaded, though all these omelets seem to be the mecca of consume-while-drunk. This one is stacked with squid and shrimp which only makes it more fun. There's fluffy egg squishing between the crispy noodles. It breaks off into crunchy chunks, and there's a contrast of puffy eggs and a satisfying crackle of the noodles. 

You can choose to get your noodles soft vs crispy. Get both. Get all the noodles. Get all the omelets. And get them with beer. 

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. 

Marugame Udon - Los Angeles

LA's noodle legend hits closer to home. The handmade udon in Los Angeles can be counted on one hand, but the number of eager hands reaching for those remnants is many. 

Marugame has often lead the pack, with its uni bowl of legends, its prowess hampered only by the dozens that got there before you. With Marugame Udon setting up a streamlined Sawtelle shop, those days of Little Tokyo lines are long gone.

Marugame Udon is the same hand-made good stuff, served cafeteria style. They start with a basic bowl and broth, made to be customized by your crafty hands.

The Beef-Tsuke Udon needs no adornments, though I'm sure a few pieces of golden tempura wouldn't hurt. The udon is cold, the beef is hot, sweet, and tender, full sauce soaking each paper-thin slice. The broth is so savory, carrying every molecule of flavorful fat. 

The Spicy Chicken Udon is an unexpectedly awesome, soup that tastes like it fell off the bone with a bold stab of spice for exhilarating warmth.

The Green Tea is wholesome and thick. It calms the carbs and ices the burn.

They only make a limited quantity of Mentai Cream Udon, but a bowl of plushy cream with microns of cod roe brine is a must. 

And if all that udon doesn't do you in, there's light Chirashi Bowl to boot. Tender chunks of tuna, salmon, egg, and ikura will hit the spot, and slices of fresh shitake will mix things up.

Handmade udon cafeteria? I had my doubts too. But every last noodle is al dente, and every sip of soup is as soul-quenching as the one before. The menu is full of can't-go-choices at prices are a steal for such a high quality bowl, and I can't think of a single reason not to skip the Tsujita for a steaming bowl of udon once in a while.

Daikokuya Sawtelle - Los Angeles

I can still taste the drops of kotteri from their Little Tokyo location three years ago. 

I know what I want, and I know what to expect, but I'm seduced by the idea of the newer Spicy Miso. "I can't recommend it," my server says when I inquire. He doesn't make eye contact and squirms just the slightest so I let my friends take the plunge. I know I made the right decision when I taste their soup. It does taste like miso with spice, but the granules don't harmonize, and you leave the thin broth feeling rather incomplete.

The classic Daikokuya Ramen is to die for. It is as thick and fatty as I remember, so rich it froths like viscous cream. The kotteri plays a supporting role, adding to the savor without congealing like Tsujita. I sip and I slurp with equal voracity, droplets of broth dripping from firm, ropy noodles.

Fantastic ramen makes my night, but I'm already thinking about the next day. Ramen won't keep, but the Chashu Bowl sure will. Droplets of fat fall from the shreds of soft belly of pork, and the grains of rice catch them as they descend through the layers beneath. It's a great bowl when it's fresh, but put it in a microwave-safe bowl the next day and it's better. 

In most cities, a perfect bowl of ramen is but an urban legend. In LA, it is a fact of life. We live that legend, those lucky enough to live near Torrance, Little Tokyo or Sawtelle. Daikokuya itself is a legend, and it's been crowned king more than once. There's a reason it tops the charts year after year, and there's a reason I'll be back in way less than a year!

Kato - Los Angeles

"I'm calling to confirm your reservation for 8 PM at Kato," my voicemail starts. It sends an electric jolt of excitement clear through my toes. This is the third time we've tried to eat there, and this call makes it true. "We are difficult to find," it elaborates. Be still my heart.

I find the correct random-very-obscure shopping center, which I probably would have passed multiple times had they not told me, and no matter how many ways I look, I still can't find Kato. And that is AWESOME. 

Normal people would be frustrated, but I'm just happy to find something truly hidden...And there it is. A small glass door, Kato labeled in a pink, barely backlit by a garish neon sign for tacos overhead. 

There is a quiet calm inside, but our level of FOMO is palpable. We look at this deceptively simple menu, a choice between a tasting menu and a bigger tasting menu, and we can't decide if less is more or if we just want more. 

We decide that more is more, and the Fried Smelt is off to a promising start. Fresh as can be, fried into gold, a fishy-fish with belly full of grainy roe, grounded by an earthy sesame sauce, smooth as a white-sand beach.

The Smoked Hamachi is pretty in pink and not-so-delicate in flavor. Smoke permeates every bite, and it blends with bright sweet pickles and a murky charred scallion sauce that adds a layer of mystery.

Each dish is a peek into the soul of the chef. We see that he can be serious and mysterious, and the fried soft shell crab Lettuce Wrap is a display of a more playful side. This is his iteration of everyone's favorite appetizer from P.F. Chang's with better ingredients. The crab is sweet and fresh, and a dense green chili paste adds a rich spice to the mix.

The Ocean Trout finishes with smoke and salt like an pillow of lighter salmon, and it melts in our mouths with flakes of smoldering lettuce. The eggplant puree meshes with the trout, enhancing the sweetness.

The Octopus is braised in a gentle chili pepper, softened to a delightful goo. The outer layer takes on a soft, glutinous rice-like texture, and you can taste the kiss from the flames. A little salty for me, but that's just my personal preference.

The Duck is dense. The skin is a perfect crisp, and the slice of breast is a few meaty mouthfuls. There is a kelp glaze that highlights the salty meat, but the sticky roast shitake steals the show.

The chef has Asian roots, and it's dishes like the Dungeness Crab Porridge where you can see those roots soak up some California seawater. An amazing interpretation of Chinese comfort food: the crab is so impossibly sweet, the Santa Barbara uni is a topping straight from heaven, and rice grains rest on top to add a satisfying crunch to each creamy spoonful. It is by far the best dish in this line-up, and it's on par with half the Michelin stars I've tried.

The main dishes are a treat, but porridge aside, it's the desserts that blow my mind. Dessert is a lost art as more restaurants choose to focus on one or the other, and anything post-meal gets outsourced to donut shops and Yogurtland. 

Not at Kato. They don't play. They just cleanse the palate cleanser with a fresh Guava Sorbet and dive into a bunch of awesomeness. The green apple juice is laced with shiso and lime so it finishes like a brisk breathmint.

From a light reset to a thick Buttermilk Pudding. A seamless millk-sour that slides down like velvet, it offsets a side of summer sunshine, a cool mix of plump strawberries and delicate hibiscus ice.

Soy and Strawberry finishes like a much-improved iteration of a Keebler wafer cookie. The top layer snaps apart and crackles as it melts, and the rhubarb tempers the sweet.

Last dish, and I can't even hide the disappointment. As much as I enjoyed the meal, I would have had at least 20 courses of just dessert. The Iced Green Tea is SO FREAKIN' COOL. The tea sits, a circle-solid, cooling its heels over a bed of longan; an ice-cold highlight to the concentrated sweetness of a lychee-cousin at its ripest peak.

You've seen Smoke.Oil.Salt. come and go. Based on what I had at Kato, you could probably call it Smoke.Ice.Salt. But while the fancy big-name went away, I think Kato is here to stay. They use a lot of smoke, but they're not just blowing smoke. There's a recurring theme to every dish, but the preparations are a playground of flavors and textures, not a single one of them uninspired. 

And there is something about Kato. An undeniable charm, a genuine calm, and an innocence that stems from a genuine desire to just do what chefs do: cook. It's a refreshing thing to see in a city like LA. While everyone else clamors to get noticed, Kato lies in wait, with a seemingly purposeful obscurity, like it doesn't want to be found. I hope you do find it, but I also hope they stay a secret...MY secret.