Phnom Penh Noodle Shack - Long Beach

Long Beach. Synonymous with shipping crates, industrial cranes, a port city, and airport. For me, Long Beach is where I'll take the official first steps towards the rest of my life, and as the madness of wedding planning intensifies, my car goes more and more frequently south on the PCH. 

Meeting with vendors is supposed to be stressful, but the professional yet laid-back caterers have made it a little more fun. But nothing, even planning my own wedding, is half as exciting as trying new restaurants, some of which must be SoCal's best kept secrets.

Like Little Cambodia. So little it's barely on the map, a minuscule two-block radius of holes-in-the-wall. Phnom Penh, a barely-there noodle house, is one a little hole on the block, casual tables surrounded by suburbia and half a kitchen abutting the dining room. 

There are so many Asian men lunching on a random Thursday afternoon, filling all but a couple tables, speaking in fluent French. It must be authentic if this is the clientele, and to be this full, it must be good. 

It is not good, it is great right out of the gate. The flaky-fried Knom Sakieu to start, a giant dumpling-turnover-meat-pie hybrid, pastry-esque shell spilling forth dynamic spices of seasoned ground meat. Even better with a dab of sweet hot sauce.

I do exactly what the server says because, well...she would know. She's right on with the Phnom Penh Noodle, the house special. Slim, soft rice noodles cradle all sorts of pork. Different textures of chewy stomach, grainy grounds, bilious liver, and lean meaty slices go well with tender shrimp. Getting it dry adds worthwhile work - the noodles won't go soggy when they're dipped in the big-bone broth.

Same broth in the Mekala, which is a little more well-rounded, and a lot more green. Slices of regular pork mix with lettuce, cucumber, bean sprouts, and pickled cabbage, cooled down with a pop of mint. Eggs add some protein, peanuts add crunch, and their house-made fish sauce adds a new, refreshing angle to the mix.

I have yet to find something I don't like about Long Beach. The food is affordable and adorable, the restaurants are fun, and the prices are fair. Phnom Penh is my first taste of Little Cambodia, and I wish I hadn't waited so long. There is more to explore, and maybe, just maybe, there will be a Cambodian rehearsal dinner in my future...

Got Kosher? - Los Angeles

Its name conjures the image of a Manischewitz mustache and a vat of gelfilte fish...which is really tasty, BTW. I wasn't dying to go in, but passing it by would have been my judgmental loss because once you get past the cheesy name...and the lack of cheese on your burger, the food is worth a stop for those who keep Kosher, and even more so for those who don't.

The Tajine, for example, is a great stew, full of thick, gamey gravy, flavored with chunks of lamb, stewed silky. Plushy prunes add earthy sweetness, and savory roasted almonds break up the gooey texture with a little crunch. It's not about being Kosher, it's about being a really good stew.

Dietary restrictions are supposed to be...well...restrictive. No gluten means no delectable carbs, vegan means no anything-that-tastes-good, and no nuts screws over every other snacker on the airplane. 

Kosher is a different story. Instead of being a restriction, Got Kosher opens a whole new world of not-so-different dishes that taste good within an imperceptible guideline. Even the Royal GK Burger, topped with long cuts of crispy pastrami, aka beef-bacon, and a soft avocado with mushrooms and onions that swim in chipotle mayo, is a blend of savory flavors and serious skill. You don't notice the no-milk-and-meat rule because the mayo brings the whole meaty mix together, and the chewy-skin, soft-center, house-made pretzel bun is enough to make hater-me stop hating pretzel buns.

The name is cheesy but cute, the location actually has street parking, and the food is undeniably delicious for both Jews and gentiles alike. Great bread, juicy meat, simmering stew. Got Kosher has got my blessing.

Gravlax - Culver City

I am so confused by this cafe. The ambiance is indescribable, a mix of familiarity and anonymity. It's like the Life Cafe from Rent crossed with the TV show Cheers, both boho-chic and shabby-chic; a guy on a laptop working in a dark corner, a couple guys playing cards at the bar. Shaken AND stirred, with a dash of the best of the West coast.

The food is different. I've only had Scandanavian in small glimpses, a hint here and there, or a whiff of inspiration. The Gravlax is their namesake, and it's easy to start with the most familiar. But this isn't really familiar. This the gravlax of gravlax. The salmon is superbly smooth, and it's hearty without being heavy, potent without being fishy, and raw without being overwhelming. We opted for the special, which places it over a bed of creamy potatoes and dill instead of toast. Best. Decision. EVER.

Gravlax goes over easy, but tread lightly around the Pickled Herring. This is one fish that can go very, very wrong. And when it's wrong, it's really, really wrong. A sigh of relief is breathed for the Gravlax iteration; this one is quite right, a visceral white with a palatable splash of brine.

The Ost & Et is a foreign name for meat and cheese, but I find nothing foreign about it. The Aged Gouda is GOOD, the Manchego is full of sheep, and the salami tastes like salami. Bresaola billows in thinly smoked sheets, and the duck prosciutto is half lavish lard, worth the extra charge. Solid stuff, no novelty here.

I have a few favorite fishes, and I'm a sucker for trout. The Smoked Rainbow Trout Spread is as smooth as the ice they probably fished it from, and it spreads on seamlessly, seafoamy and sweet. The house-cured red cabbage is a mouthful of my new favorite pickle.

The cafe still confuses me, but I cannot regret giving it a try. It is delightfully different, and when I opened this door, I opened a window of opportunity. My first taste of Scandinavian will not be my last, and considering Gravlax is LA's best...and LA's only, I will not be lax on my consumption of gravlax.

FIN - Culver City

How do you spell Asian fusion? B-a-d. Anything that's good has been done to death, and anything that hasn't been done has probably been done very poorly and died a deserving death. This is my mentality as I walk into FIN.

At first glance, FIN seems fine. I start at happy hour, and nothing puts a smile on my face like one heck of a deal.

I start carefully, with a neutral Baked Crab Roll, curls of clean crab wrapped simply in soy paper. It's not my favorite, but I also find no fault.

The Japanese Ceviche sounds fun, and it gets an A for Albacore.

Encouraged by the ceviche, my meal gets a little more raw, and wow, that sashimi has some sass.

Spunky citrus breathes life into expertly-sliced Yuzu Yellowtail Sashimi.

Each slice of the Citrus Truffle Salmon Sashimi is skillfully slim, but the flavor is anything but. The salmon is sweet and smooth, punctuated by shavings of pungent black truffle. The citrus strikes a balance, adding a new dimension of taste.

Tuna Jalapeno Crispy Rice is a fusion staple, and this one sets the standards high. The shell lets out a satisfying crackle as it gives way to soft center, meshing with the malleable chopped tuna on top. The rice mollifies the spice, a salve for a jalapeno burn.

The ambiance is appealing, the cocktails make you converse, and the food is can keep you coming. I had serious doubts about FIN, but maybe I was wrong. After all; all cynicism aside, FIN is just pure fun.

Restaurant Miura - Lomita

Rough start. They're out of my beloved monkfish liver. No ankimo mean no bueno, but with options like $70 for a many-course omakase and $55 for 12 pieces of sushi, I'm sure I can make do...

First decision made: no fried stuff and palate-warmers for me. I'm cutting to the chase with just the sushi. The Salmon settles into a thick, slick sheet, sweet as always. The Squid is tougher, a little too tough. It earns a low score, though it is precisely scored to help you chew. There is something called Golden Ice Snapper by its side, and if it looks like a red snapper... yeah, it tastes like snapper. Then the Halibut, bright and white, brightened a little more by a vinegary ponzu. The Snow Crab is pre-frozen and bland, and the Scallop is just okay, even with an accent of spicy yuzu pepper.

.. And then there was nothing. We waited... And we waited. The table next to us had sat down later, but their plates were never empty. They ordered the same omakase that we did, and they kept up their lively chatter as they paid their check. We waited some more, until most of the restaurant had cleared out. Then the server and chef apologized...because they had forgotten about us. They had forgotten about one of the six tables in the entire restaurant.

The Toro better be good after such a long wait. I literally stuff it into my mouth because I'm starving. It tingles as it melts, with its usual fatty fabulousness. But it's clearly not the best cut of belly. Yellowtail is generic, and the Mackerel is meaty and fleshy. I really don't love mackerel, but the fishy aftertaste of this piece was actually pretty tolerable. The Salmon Roe is a decent preparation. It's salty, but without even the slightest hint of fishiness, definitely one of the superior variations. My favorite Uni is next, and even that is ruined. I wait for creamy, and I get grainy-smooth. Close enough. But then there is a horrible bitterness that paralyzes my mouth, stops me in my tracks. I can only hope there is something to salvage this disaster.

There is a final course of sweet shrimp, and I hope it balances out the bitter uni, but they're out of that too. Instead, we get to choose an extra piece of nigiri, but I chose the uni before I knew. The extra piece is just as bitter, and the only thing the forgettable Tuna Roll can do is take some of the aftertaste out of my mouth.

I am more than ready for the Miso Soup with Clams by the time I finish my roll.

The soup signals the end of the meal, but we stay for the Strawberry Banana Crepe. It's light and not too sweet, and the crepe is so thin, a perfect al dente texture.

The Banana Fritter is uplifting in its deceptively straightforward, yet fun flavors. The banana goes gooey in the fryer, and the strawberries and ice cream highlight it well.

The desserts are better than the sushi, but they're not enough to save this meal. Miura may be cheap, but order the sushi and you'll know where they cut some corners. The prix fixe meal is better because there are other items, but there is truly nothing that could bring me back.