Jtyh Restaurant - Rosemead

In case you couldn't tell by my previous review, I don't have the best luck with men. Clearly I cling to the crazies, but there are other problems beyond my control as well. For example, I tend to go for manly men. By manly, I mean a wood-chopping, beer-guzzling guys with shirt-ripping muscles acquired from something other than a personal trainer who looks like Ben Stiller in Dodgeball.

I don't know how I'll find this man, but when I do I'll know. And when we dig into a dish of hand-rolled cold Noodles in House Sauce at an unpretentious cafe-style setup like Jtyh, he'll really dig in. No dainty dabbing of the lips here, just stuff so many noodles into your mouth you have to bite them and let the rest fall onto your plate. Bonus points if you drop some into the lap you forgot to put a napkin in because you're a bad Asian like me and never mastered chopsticks. And if I hear you slurp this ropy round with its unpretentious soy-based sauce, I'll kiss you by the end of the night no matter how many crudely-chopped cubes of garlic you just ate.

A dude-bro once told me that no one can be a bigger man than me. Unfortunately, it's hard NOT to be the bigger man in a city where the guys manicure their lawns AND their toes. Fortunately, Jtyh dishes out a good dose of MAN with the dao xiao mian. 

A guy who shaves noodles into a boiling broth with a huge knife? I will slurp him up even faster than the Beef Stewed Noodle Soup. This hearty, rugged broth is meaty minus the greasy and the stewed chunks of marbeled beef break apart in your mouth.

I'm not really a fan of non-facial hair...or facial hair, for that matter, but the SoCal pretty-boys could use a little more on the chest. It adds a little character with some texture and depth, the same way a little more thin-sliced lamb would have enhanced the Lamb Fried Noodles. But make no mistake, these stir-fried noodles have shaved sides curl like waves of sweaty hair after a day of lifting at the gym, and that glimpse of gamy flavor will fill you up like the Chinese version of a Hungry Man dinner.

It's hard to find a manly-man in a city where the guys are paying up to have their cuticles clipped and their chest hair removed, but Jtyh kind of restores my faith. Unsurprisingly, there are only five knife-shaved noodle houses in the LA area, where manly-men are about as common as unicorns. I guess you can wish me happy hunting because the minute I find one, I'm never letting him go.

Convinced by Kantaro Sushi UPDATE - Torrance

Online dating is a new thing for me, but I like to think I learn something on every date. Unfortunately, I went on one of my first online dates at Kantaro, where I learned that overexposed profile pics can hide a lot of acne, and unlike the omekase at Kantaro, it's been going downhill ever since.

Like the lonely man who tried to invite himself on my two-week April vacation on the first date, Kantaro cuts to the chase. No polite fillers of silence, just a stunning Sashimi Plate to start. The black seabass slices are transparently thin, and the fatty parts dissolve. The tuna is a sophisticated cut with a flavor as deep as the red, but the monkfish liver pate has delicate liver-savor flavors that come to life on the tongue.

The tuna is pretty, and the monkfish is just a boring beige, but personality is what matters in the end. Some personalities are as rich as the fatty belly ofToro, and others have a more subtle polish like the Amber Jack. It really just comes down to what you prefer, but desperation is never desirable. That said, you can't force someone to like you. "I love how much he stalked me after the second date", said no woman ever.  Oh, and no woman is going to marry you because you accused her of leaving you hanging... While she was asleep.

Good things don't have to be deliberate - they have a tendency to reappear. The black sea bass sashimi-garnish makes quite the encore as lightly battered boxes of flaky fish and grainy seeds of fish egg. You can also break off chunks of bone for a fish n' chips-like crunch.

If there is no chemistry, or if something just doesn't feel right, nothing anyone does will change the outcome. A real connection is pure, smooth sweetness with just the right blaze of fire and tinge of tang like the Halibut and Scallop nigiri with yuzu pepper and a drop of lemon.

If you're lucky enough to find a true, mutual connection, be sure to never let it go. That said, some things are better left unsaid. Ignorance is one such thing. When asked why you have no desire to leave the country, for example, you may want to make up with a better excuse than, "You know, those Mexican drug cartels, they murder people." Never feeling the rays of a tropical sun burst over your skin like pearls of Salmon Roe on your taste buds is a crying shame, and never immersing yourself in a culture unlike your own is almost as sad as never tasting the sweet grit of a good Blue Crab.

The worst date I ever went on lasted a grand total of ten torturous minutes. I'm usually pretty non-confrontational, but this time I used constructive criticism. I actually SAID... Aloud..."You can't be ugly AND mean. You have to be ugly and nice, hot and mean, or rich and any combination of the above... And you'll never be rich enough."

What was rich, however was the deep-fried white-fish Maki and small Chirashi Bowl. The octopus was a temperate, firmly-soft flap that released a little fragrance with each chew. The tasty tuna made a welcome reappearance, and an amaebi reared its ugly head.

But unlike that disaster-date, they can take the amaebi head back to the kitchen to fix its flaws. The head has a crazy, craveable crunch when they bring it back battered and fried, and don't let the idea of head freak you out - it tastes a little like roe.

Unlike all my dates, my dinner at Kantaro actually ended well. The Yellowtail Hand Roll didn't fall apart under my sarcastic bite, a slimy-appearing Eel turns sweet with the right boil and a brush of sauce, a smooth Tamago finishes with a fine touch...

And Green Tea Ice Cream is a lightly-sugared encore to the perfect meal.

Online dating isn't what it used to be. You never know if you're getting what you paid for nowadays, and the only thing I've learned is that I wasn't getting my money's worth on Match. Twenty-five dollars a month can't find me a man that doesn't look like a nightmare, but a mere $45 gets me the omekase of my dreams. From now on, I think I'll put my money where my mouth is.

Kotohira - Gardena

My hospital feeds us while we work, and for the resident swimming in debt and drowning in loans, three free meals a day is a pretty sweet deal. I'm hardly one to complain about an added bonus, but nearly two years of intermittently exclaiming "Wow, that was really edible!" has made me a little less enthusiastic about cafeteria food...until I went to Kotohira.

Kotohira is a Japanese cafeteria-food restaurant, dishing up culturally classic staples while hiding in a small strip mall in Gardena. Their ingredients are basic, their prep is simple, and the food even comes on a lacquered tray, but I get the feeling I could eat here every day and not get bored.

The hospital cafeteria specializes in various amorphously-textured blocks of firm tofu in some sort of very strong sauce. Be it curry, pineapple, or jerk, it's only a matter of time before every crumbly bite starts to taste the same. Kotohira serves tofu too, but the Agedashi Tofu, a simple staple with crispy, chewy skin covering melty silken-ness, soaking in a light, shoyu-ish broth adds dimension by mixing textures with the flavor.

The one decent thing the hospital cafeteria serves is fried chicken. The chicken stays moist inside the breading, which is very acceptably seasoned. The Japanese have their own version of fried chicken, and Kotohira’s Chicken Katsudon comes with chunks of dark meat aren't just coated with a little spice. The sauce seeps all the way through the marbling mix of meat and egg over rice. All that chicken gets me pretty thirsty, but I’ve never been a huge fan of tea. Fortunately, the Mini Katsudon Combination comes with Tanuki Udon, a light broth with thick, carb-y noodles, topped with chewy fish cakes and a lattice of tempura lace.

The one thing the hospital cafeteria makes consistently well is the soup. The lentils are hearty, and the chicken tortilla soup has a detectable southwestern spice. But it's hard to appreciate cafeteria soup when we’re surrounded by the authentic ramen of Torrance.  My ramen consumption is starting to reach overdose status, and the Pork Udon, a sparser, thick-noodled, Tanuki-esque-but-heavier soup was a brief breather after years of thick, fat-droplet-filled tonkotsu.  

I’ve spent a lot of time savoring the best offerings of the South Bay’s Japanese population so it’s no surprise I’m not always content to savor my sad chicken or enhance my soggy enchilada with pickled jalapeño at work. But I had accepted that cafeteria food could only be so good, so I figured I could at least watch my savings account grow with every bite. Now thanks to a hole-in-the-wall in Gardena, I see just how much better it could be, and every time I'm hungry at work I have to go to Gardena or starve.

No Encores at Everyday Beijing - San Mateo

The only thing I learned after a month on cardiology is that I don't understand cardiology. The concepts are so abstract they might as well be rocket science, and to this day, I can only hear a regular rate and rhythm.

I understand the Silicon Valley cities about as well as I understand cardiology, and I understand the sub-par Chinese food at Everyday Beijing even less. Take the classic Scallion Pancake, for example. It's crisp and full of scallion, an unmistakable Chinese classic that co-exists on the list of #stuffwhitepeoplelike. But despite the generous helping of frying oil, it's about as dry as an over-diuresed CHF exacerbation.

But in the case of CHF, at least I know to push lasix. Everyday Beijing has the basics down with the Beef Cartilage as well. But just bread-and-butter medicine, this bread-and-butter Chinese dish was way too easy to forget.

I can do some basic CHF management, but the EKGs elude me entirely.If I'm holding the EKG right-side up when I try to read it, you should already be impressed. I learned those peaks and depressions about as well as Everyday Beijing learned Ma Po Tofu. The tofu was bland without ground pork, and the signature Szechuan sauce was about as interesting as rule out ACS.

It's sad when the best thing is an afterthought of a side, but sadly the Garlic String Bean was like my cardiology fellows - the only thing I actually enjoyed.

You're probably asking yourself, shouldn't an internal medicine resident understand a little cardiology? The answer is a very embarrassed yes. After Everyday Beijing, I was asking myself, shouldn't an authentic Chinese restaurant know how to make Szechuan Boiled Fish? The answer is also a very embarrassed yes. The oil-and-water broth was an assault with an abrasive black pepper finish.

I don't understand how I managed to miss cardiology in a field that requires so much of it, but I understand even less how Everyday Beijing survives in city where Chinese competition is keen. I should probably brush up on the heart, but don't worry, I have a plan. Next time I have a long layover at SFO, I'll be reading my Dubin over a Chinese lunch...in a restaurant that is NOT Everyday Beijing.

Yellow Fever - Torrance

On the east coast, people thought I was exotic. They looked at me and saw eyes that would forever elude them, a language they could never learn, and a cuisine they could never crave. Their frank curiosity was inescapable, even in Boston and cosmopolitan NYC. When I moved to the west coast, I was in for quite the culture shock. I stepped off a plane and no one stared. I walked into a restaurant and no one gawked. I walked through Chinatown and no one asked for directions. When people spoke, no one was louder and slower, and best of all, no one asked where I was "FROM FROM". 

Ignorance can be as ugly as the Ugly Rolls, but it can also be a lesson learned. Take a bite of what you perceive as strange, and you might see what you're missing. The ugly rolls are truly aesthetically impaired, but they're full of fragrant pork.

Asians are as common as palm trees in SoCal, and practically everything comes with some far-east flair. Yellow Fever is the embodiment of #stuffwhitepeoplelike...except Asian. Think Lemonade, the world's whitest chain. But while Lemonade sacrifices flavor to remain painfully healthy, the Shanghai Bowl delivers guilty pleasure in moderation with refreshing vermicelli and irresistible pork belly bits.

All cultures come together on the west coast, and there are few better fusions than the Parmesan Furikake Fries. American frites, Italian cheese, and Japanese seaweed and fish formulate a far-east bowl of bar food.

Take a lesson from SoCal and catch yourself a little Yellow Fever. Some cultures are just contagious, and Asian is one you want to contract. White people beware, there is no vaccine for this kind of yellow fever.

Fancying Father's Office UPDATE - Culver City

If you grew up in SoCal, you went to school with an Asian guy everyone hates. That well-rounded kid who made not just A's but 100 percent on every physics exam, whose mellifluous prose punished your languished libel while seamless symphonies flowed from flawless fingers on at least three different instruments. You were friends but you wore a smile of feigned friendship, a mask for the constant competition, basking in the red-hot glow of mutual resentment and admiration.

If your friend was chef Sang Yoon at Father's Office, you probably lost to him every time. It's not enough that he provides the best bang for your beer, he also bangs out the best burger in town.

Sang Yoon was brilliant, even when it comes to basics. Most people were happy producing a pretty good bag of gas-station pork rinds, but then you crunch on the thick, honeycombed, impossibly light bites of crackling Crispy Pork Rinds and you'll never go back to the bag again.

Every chef should know how to make a good vegetable, but he'll lace your crispy-char Brussels Sprouts with a heart-attack hide of bacon and step it up a notch. 

Basics can get boring, but even fish sticks will blow your mind if they have a little Sang-Yoon spin. The Salt Cod Fritters are a testament to creativity (because being a technical paragon just isn't enough for this overachiever), stuffed full of soft, salty fish, coated with just enough batter to flavor the fish and desalinize the salt. 

I'm kind of over salads. But even the simplest of salads can turn into a magnum opus. The Duck Confit Salad combines fatty, savory duck-in-its-own-fat with bitter-ish mustard greens and frisee, balanced by sweet figs and a softer vinaigrette.

Sang Yoon's culinary prowess probably made him the kid you beat up for his lunch money, except you'd rather steal his lunch. He may say he doesn't do desserts, but you'd think he was using his grandmother's recipe. The Ice Cream Sandwich changes all the time, and this wintery-themed ginger molasses cookie with pumpkin ice cream and toasted pumpkin seeds makes you want to let your hair down and belt out a few bars of "Let it Go". 

A lot of people like to think they're a jack of all trades, and even more people like to say they are. Competent at many things, master of none, I used to think that you could only truly master one thing...until I went to to Father's Office.