The Little Things

Lately I have been waiting for a moment in time to coincide when the sun is warm, traffic doesn't completely suck, and I'm off from work to take the drive down towards Gardena to seek out the secluded Sakae Sushi. With two out of three of these specs in place, I flew south on a frio and blustery Viernes to have a taste of traditional Kansai style oshisushi (pressed in a wooden box) mixed with some good old fashioned cut rolls.

The spartan menu at Sakae (since 1962) is summed up with just six immaculate items: saba (pickled mackerel), ebi (cooked camaron with sweet vinegar), inari (fried tofu placed over boxed rice), nori-maki (shiitake, spinach, kampyo {dried gourd shavings}, oboro {translucent kelp} and egg), tamago-maki (same ingredients as nori but topped with sweet egg in lieu of a seaweed wrap), and a California roll (aguacate, shrimp, roasted sesame seeds).

Despite the weather, I took this pristine parcel out to Redondo Beach to enjoy my catch (12 piece mix plus 5 slices of CA roll) in the ocean air. With a lot of work to do, I wasted no time and ripped open my present like a spoiled kid at Christmas. All of the morsels in the box proved to be muy fresco and packed with oishii flavor. I especially like that the inari wasn't stuffed with rice but on top. If I had to pick a favorite out of this elite group, I would have to crown the tamago-maki. I've never tasted tamago this unique and it's a good feeling when you eat something amazing for the first time. For that matter, I'm not even that into huevos but today I can certainly say that I am The Eggman, goo goo g'joob!

Five Waters

There are few places in the world more historically complicated than the Punjab regions of modern day Pakistan and India. With a constant barrage of ancient invaders (Greeks, Persians, Turks, Afghans) followed by a couple of predominant empires (Mughal and Sikh) capped off with British colonialism, the Punjab was not only at the forefront of culture and theology but also heavily responsible for comida etiquette as we know it today. Such as sitting down to eat (people had previously stood to partake), asking to pass an item across or under a table, and engaging in light conversation about the weather while silencing belches with a rolled fist. Of course these statements may just be the rumors of time, but what remains certain is the ongoing influence of Punjabi cuisine (especially the devoted use of the tandoor) in the worldwide spectrum of Indian cooking.

With that in mind K and I stopped by Punjabi Tandoor, a Sikh owned Indian fonda in the magical ciudad of Anaheim, for a quick fill of flavorful sauciness. One distinguishing mark of Punjabi restaurant comida (apparently home cooking tends to be lighter) is the copious amounts of ghee (clarified butter), cream, and paneer (farmer queso) employed during dish preparation. In short, if you like it colorful, rich, and fancy free then this stuff is ripe for the sopping. I ordered up a combo 4: arroz, chicken makhani (tandoored in a yogurt tomate gravy), mixed vegetable korma, cup o' kheer, and a samosa (with brilliant chutney) for good measure. K had a combo with saag paneer but I was too entrenched in tearing my naan to remember anything else. We've all had good naan to be sure, but I must say that the made to order flatbread (garlic or plain) at PT is among the finest anywhere: hot, slightly fluffy, and crispy in all the right places. Truthfully, I have always wanted to take a self-reflective comida tour of northern India, and it still may be in the cards, but until then I'll look towards PT for that little piece of Shangri-La.

It's Like Seoul Man

 With K feeling a little under the weather, I deduced that a trip to Korea Town for some hot sopa would do the trick for a speedy recovery. We pulled in at Ma Dang Gook Soo (that signage looks extra spiffy at night) for a fix of steamy kalguksu. First things first, we cleared the nasal passages with an order of duk bo ki: spicy rice cylinders, zucchini, cabbage, cebollas, carrots, and fish cake. While not quite the fiery version K was hoping for, this popular snack dish is always tasty to chew on a chilly afternoon.

Next it was kalguksu time. Literally translating to "knife noodles", the name reflects that the wheat flour noodles are traditionally cut by hand. I opted for the pollo variety: slow simmered chicken broth (with garlic, ginger, jujubes, and onion) sets the stage for the noodles, papas, zucchini, shredded chicken, green onion, dried seaweed, and thinly sliced huevo. Add a dollop of sesame chili sauce and the result is truly chicken soup for the soul, muy excelente.

 

Meanwhile, K dove into a shellfish concoction of similar stature: anchovy and seaweed broth with steamed mussels, clams and mushrooms. During the slurping, I had to do a double take after noticing one of the friendly waitstaff transporting a bowl of kalguksu barehanded. I received mine with enough billowing steam to blow clear across the table so after 10 minutes in I gave it a heat check--untouchable. I waited to make sure my perception was correct and sure enough I was right. Even with their special grip technique this feat should rank alongside the twelve labors of Hercules. Incredible, come here for the hearty comida and you'll leave marveled by the superhuman service.

Me And Pastrami McGee

 LA is filled with hundreds of greasy spoons that boast colorful signage typically touting the words: burgers, pastrami, burritos. While many of these fondas are best used in an emergency, I did decide to investigate the role of pastrami (outside of a Jewish deli) in the larger SoCal comida universe. Pastrami (from the Romanian pastram meaning 'to keep') is usually made from beef that is brined, dried, seasoned, smoked, and steamed. The result when done properly (as we all know) is tender, packed full of punch, and nothing short of magnifico. I began my meaty research with a slice of the Old Country at Sahag's Basturma where the surly staff crank out Armenian style pastrami (basturma) and soujouk (dried, spicy sausage) pressed in french bread or by the pound. Waiting for my sandwich I felt like I was back in Yerevan (never been) playing checkers with a heavily-cologned colleague and reading crumpled newspapers without photos all day, but when my order came up I hit the streets eager to find a picnic spot.

Before I motored onward I took a quick bite and was astonished. The seasoning tasted strangely similar to Indian pickles but what kind of lunatic would apply Hindu spices to beef? To ponder this obvious contradiction I snaked up to Barnsdall Park to finish what I started.

After diving in, I realized the answer is less theological and more culinary. Similar bouquets are used to zest basturma: cumin, fenugreek, garlic, paprika. Served with some olives, peppers, and thinly sliced pickled radish this cured curiosity hit close to the numbers. In the future I'll know to score my basturma cold cut to eat with huevos (as is popular) or on pita bread with fresh cucumber and tahini sauce.

After digesting for a few days, the next item up for bids was an all expenses paid trip to Pasadena where The Original Tops has been turning cabezas with their succulent pastrami since 1952. Just when you thought The Hat was money, and it certainly is, here comes Tops with a briefcase full of Wilsons. I ordered the Famous Pastrami (Au jus, stacked pastrami, mustard, pickles on a toasted French roll) saddled with shoestring papas, pickled carrots, and chiles all washed down with an icy lemon ole. This juicy sammie was like sinking a Bob Barker hole in one and winning both showcases (the crappy one with furniture plus the cool trip to Rio) on the showdown. With that said, maybe I am serious enough to tackle Langer's delicatessen but until then how good does this look? Come on down!

The Hokkaido Shuffle

With the temps remaining on the chilly side, I (Solo Basura) made a much needed desvio towards Mar Vista for some Asahikawa style ramen. True to form, the small Santouka chain serves regional noodles that are not too hot and not too cold but one hundred percent delicioso. I politely asked for a spicy miso set: ramen (simmered pork broth, bamboo shoots, jelly ear, seasame, negi, cha-shu puerco, picante miso paste), small pork rice bowl, and a boiled egg marinated in mild shoyu. You really do get rewarded in life by asking for things nicely. The broth was buttery, the noodles were near perfecto, and the pork was fatty and flavorful. Even the rice bowl was a hit (must be the juicy pork shoulder) and of course a sliced huevo is a welcome addition to any bowl of noodles. Next time (maybe tomorrow), I'll certainly order their signature shio (salt flavor) ramen that comes topped with a cute pickled plum. Sufficiently warmed and rejuvenated, I hit the streets with an extra spring in my step. Santouka is one ramen-ya that's guaranteed to move your feet and get you out of your seat. Slurp.

Jackpot!

There are few things in Las Vegas more thrilling than the comprehensive Pinball Hall of Fame. So after dusting off my flipper skills and thoroughly rocking a few tables (especially the new Indiana Jones), K and I went on a comida/bebida mission worthy enough for a level 10 wizard.

We made the quick jaunt over to Chinatown, where Ichiza (gracias, Spence) serves up some truly amazing Izakaya style comestibles. Although we were given menus, it's the handmade signs plastered all over the walls that tell the real comida story. 

Along with some juicy pollo yakitori, some of our ordered highlights included a crispy grilled mackerel

a tasty tataki salad with seared tuna, hamachi, and beef

not to mention an incredible cut roll: deep fried natto (fermented soybeans) topped with tuna.

 After dinner we sauntered over to the 'happiest place on earth' where the 'beer is cold and the machines are caliente', but what really makes Frankie's shine (other than that it's open 24 hours) are the pungent tiki drinks and stylish island decor. The potency of concoctions here are rated by a clever skull scale (1 to 5), K sipped on a fruity Malekula (level 2) while I dove in for the lethal Bender Ender (level 5): rums, POG, floated with 160 proof dark. Whoa, upon flying back to an absolutely magnifico hotel room I couldn't stop thinking about our successful Sin City triple play. Next time you're in town give it a spin and good luck!

Dog Day Afternoon

Duly inspired from a photo of an LA hot dog taken by fellow CCB heapster Sausagehead, K and I set forth on a semi-dangerous mission to find some overly decorated versions of the classic Americano favorite. While I had originally picked a couple of hot dog havens in Reseda for this experiment, it just seemed too damned far (later perhaps) so we took the rapido drive to Pasadena instead. Our first stop was The Slaw Dogs where the list of dogs, links, toppings, and sides is long and wide. K opted for the summery Picnic Dog: grilled Vienna all-beef, BBQ sauce, onion rings, potato salad, and pickle spear. I went straight in for The Original: steamed dog, beer chili, shredded queso, mustard, chopped cebollas, and cole slaw. K handled her dog with relative ease while mine was certainly a knife and fork affair. Unfortunately, we skipped the Belgian style (or sweet potato) fries here in order to save room for later. The Slaw Dogs also maintains a creative daily dog special board along with a solid selection of international cervezas.

Next item on the agenda was the Dog Haus only a few blocks away. This place boasts the motto: best of the wurst, so I felt an obligation to include it in our tubular research.

Packing an impressive arsenal of sausages, burgers, and sides the Dog Haus is truly locked and loaded. All Haus Dogs come with a signature 1/4 lb. all-beef skinless served on King's Hawaiian bread (3 rolls split together). This is a bold bread choice because it ensures a sweetness that some purists might snub, but for me it worked out just fine. K went 'healthy' with the Sooo Cali: mixed greens, aguacate, tempura fried onions, diced tomate, and spicy basil aioli. Noticing a connection between my favorite dog (Tijuana style, yes they are better south of the border) and an item on the menu, I ordered the B.L.A.S.T: smoked bacon, lettuce, aguacate, sliced serranos, tomate, topped with mayo. We also ordered some papas fritas but after entering into a coma de comida about halfway through I can't seem to remember much about them. Everybody loves hot dogs which is why they remain a vast and ever-changing food topic. I look forward to addressing (eating) this dynamic subject again but I think I'll wait until the real dog days of summer come steamrolling through the Southland.