Beaujolais Bistro - Reno, Nevada

"160 feet??!? I'm going be supportive and then I'm going to boulder." Justin has a fear of heights, and I can't keep my feet on the ground. To each their own.

We do our different things together; we're different but we're still the same. I high-five him when he nails a new route, and when I hook both hands over the top of America's highest wall, he tells me I killed it.

Off the wall and onto Branded Hearts Distillery, a victory drink well-earned. Somebody said whiskey, and I came running. Ryan comes running too, opening his distillery on a day they're closed just to give us the best distillery tour I've ever had. He even lets us sample bourbon straight out of the barrel, and at 120 proof, that bourbon is one heck of a pre-dinner pre-game. Even grandma Pauline drinks like a champ.

By the time we sit down at Beaujolais Bistro (which we did NOT drive to), we are not exactly sober. 

But there is always room for wine, and my glass of red really pops with the Bacon-Wrapped Dates. Belly, fat, and belly fat, crispy-on-gooey with pungent blue cheese, all swimming in a thick romesco sauce. The tiniest spicy little kick keeps an otherwise-heavy dish from being too much.

Heavy turns heavier as the meat falls right off the Braised Lamb Shank bone, with the subtlest flick of a fork. Couscous adds it's grainy, airy texture, and the harissa-lamb jus spa bathes the meat in a rich cloak of darkness.

The lamb is great, but the Cassoulet is a masterpiece. A hot pot of the softest cannellini beans, soaked in pork-belly-turned-liquid-fat, topped with the most perfect duck confit, complete with crispy skin and a layer of melty glory underneath.

We're still reeling from the cassoulet, but there's always room for dessert. The Profiteroles are so simple yet so satisfying; roomy little cream puffs full of airy vanilla cream.

I don't know what was more impressive, the fact that the cassoulet blew my mind or the fact that an 82 year-old woman just drank me under the table. But one thing's for sure. Bistro Beaujolais isn't just the best meal I had in Reno, it's one of the most impressive meals I've had this year.

Wild River Grille - Reno, Nevada

Massive plate of sausage for breakfast, followed by a massive side of biscuits and gravy. Literally one hour later, it's time for lunch. 

Despite the view of the river and a pretty little bridge whose construction was once the talk of the town, my appetite is next to none.

The Cheese Plate is about all I can stomach, and this plate has a little bit from all the cheese groups. There are crumbly logs of a softer cheese, emboldened by interspersed mustard seed. Classic brie goes with all the fruit, spread across a water cracker, jamming with fig and local honey. A round of sweet chevre crusted with nuts goes nuts when paired with candied pecans. 

Mahi Mahi Tacos are not exciting, but they sure are fun. A thicker mango salsa drips into the grill lines on the fish, and the pico adds a lightens the generous chunks of fresh fish. 

Wild River Grille has clear potential, and it's unfortunate that I was too full to enjoy their more substantial meals. But I do like their food, and for sure their food is fuel. 

I need all the power I can get for my afternoon climb of America's highest wall. On to the next adventure!

The Original Mel's Dinner - Reno

We had a hearty lunch and an even heartier dinner. Dinner was at home, a simple chicken bake that twinkled under the chandelier lights. After a meal in one of the most breathtaking homes I've ever seen (and I've been to the Biltmore AND Monticello), it was time to switch to the sweet simplicity of Mel's Dinner.

Gone are the days of waitresses on roller skates... Back when it was still okay to call them waitresses...but the diner is still a classic. You can feel the hustle and bustle of line cooks preparing for the brunch-time storm, as you sink into the cushions of a cheerful booth.

The menu has multiple pages, but Aidelle's Grilled Smoked Sonoma Sausage was clearly the way to go. The chicken sausage is on the lighter side, balanced by sweet apples and tangy tomatoes, moistened by over easy eggs.

As if that plate of sausagefest wasn't enough, I also got a Biscuit with Gravy on the side. Because the only thing better than sausage is more sausage... Said no man ever.

What came first? The chicken or the egg? The world may never know. What came first? The hangover or the Benedict? The hung over world is too nauseous to ever know. All I know is, this stack of runny eggs and ham is one of the better eye openers I've had and one of the best food comas I've seen.

We were trying to eat lightly because breakfast was way too close to lunch. Fail. But breakfast at Mel's? Not a fail. Not even close.

Twisted Fork - Reno

You've heard of pregnancy brain? I don't have pregnancy brain. But I do have wedding brain. Same difference.

Wedding brain: A condition where one becomes obsessed with planning one's wedding and is found by others to be extremely boring and often annoying. To exist in a state of delusion where one believes that everyone else must love to hear about every agonizing detail for a future date they must struggle through to show support for their friend(s) taking the plunge.

So I am boring. And I am learning that planning a wedding is hard. But the difficulty starts long before the wedding, and sometimes even before the engagement. I started as an only child with my parents as the only constant figures in my life. The rest of my family tree lies firmly rooted across the Pacific, and that was all I knew.

Justin comes with a lot more family. A lot of people love him, and I feel like it'll take a lifetime to know them all and appreciate each person for who they are and who they will be. So far, that journey has taken us to Malibu, Vista, and Thousand Oaks, and this time, it lands our plane in Reno.

I am wary and I am nervous, but I keep an open mind. After all, when you see a fork in the road...you should take it. So it's only appropriate that we go directly from Reno-Tahoe airport to the Twisted Fork for lunch.

The menu is a good mix, and the company is too. There's a traditional path, appreciated by all, a Short Rib Grilled Cheese of melty cheddar, hunks and chunks of soft shreds of short rib, and a hint of horseradish buried in cream. Think really good sandwich... And take it up a little notch.

The sandwich is a joyful journey down the beaten path, but if you're looking for the road less traveled, the Tiger Shrimp Tamal is the way to go. The finest-ground, sweet corn is stuffed with tender jumbo shrimp, and it stews in a garlic cream that I can only describe as liquid crack.

I didn't know what to expect as I sat down with my new family for the first time, but I knew, immediately, that this trip to Reno was one of my better decisions. The conversation flowed faster than the diet coke, and the only thing warmer than my tamal was the couple sitting across from us. I also didn't know what to expect from the food as I sat down in Twisted Fork for the first time, but I knew, immediately, that this lunch was one of Their better decisions.

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.