El Sombrero

True story: I had planned on taking the pintoresca route (along Sunset Blvd.) home from work one day this week to stop at All American Burger for a CCB spiel. As it turned out, a crew of my former co-workers were in town grinding away at some week long job in Beverly Hills. I met up with them on Martes in the Fairfax district, all of us hambre and thirsty, and we eagerly headed towards Thai Town for a familia style feast. Along the way we decided to pull over and have a bebida so I suggested Ye Coach & Horses, which happens to be across the calle from All American Burger. As we were entering into the dark bar, I glanced over my shoulder to steal a look at my next target; thinking to myself how I had already mentally outlined my entry with great tie-ins to Fast Times at Ridgemont High complete with a working title of "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Dice". No dice is right because although the signage was still standing the restaurant was gone underneath it. Nothing but a pile of dirt. A little long-winded (and perhaps anticlimactic) I know, but I was a bit dismayed to be hit so squarely with a Buddhist-like view of change (nothing is permanent except impermanence). After pondering this for a few days, I decided to move on but wanted to pick a solid burger joint in lieu of our fallen comrade. Without much hesitation I made a decision and (following a couple sluggish Copa Mundial matches) flew on over to The Hat. This small chain is mainly known for pastrami dips and chili cheese fries, but I like the addition of the pastrami burger: beef patty, queso, lettuce, onion, tomate, thousand sauce topped with shaved pastrami. Accompanied with some horseradish and a few papas fritas, there really isn't much in the universe that can beat this thing taste-wise. Staring out onto Lake Av. in a comida stupor, I managed a small grin when an image popped into mi cabeza of Jeff Spicoli (after being hoodwinked to attend class by the ass-kissing Desmond) stating: "Wait a minute, there's no birthday party for me in here!".

A Timely Boon

If someone told you to go ahead and jump, would you? probably not. If someone told you to jump and you knew the consequences would be nonfatal and maybe even delicious, what then? way more likely. Such is the hype that surrounds Golden Deli in San Gabriel. On one hand, an establishment that's widely heralded to have the best bun and pho in the SGV doubtlessly (just by sheer numbers) won't. On the other hand, popularity does bring a consistency that will usually be somewhere near the net. With that in mind, I piloted K and Mr. Style down from San Moreno (after a relaxing amble in the park) to have a closer look. After a short wait, we were planted in a nice booth where we unanimously decided on bowls of bun accompanied with a plato of goi cuon (rice paper rolled with camrones, pork, mint, and lechuga). K chose bun cha gio & bi (egg roll, shredded puerco, rice stick), Mr. Style smoothly opted for bun chao tom & thit nuong & cha gio (shrimp paste, bbq pork, egg roll, rice stick), and I had bun thit nuong & cha gio (bbq pork, egg roll, rice stick). I know it's meaningless to include the Vietnamese names without the accents, but seeing as how they're near impossible to pronounce I decided to add some international flair anyway. All bowls came with a muy delicioso house version of nuoc cham sauce, which always adds pungent life to this functional dish. The fresco rolls not only had an excellent peanut sauce, but also maintained a pleasant citrus sabor on top of the choice ingredients. The comida here is nothing to shake a stick at, and in this case maybe the people's voice does ring true. However, there are dozens of potential spots I have my ojos on in the valley. For some, this place is it. For me, until I know for sure, it will have to remain Silver Deli.

Oh, Hell Yeah

I woke up on Sabado feeling that I have been needlessly putting off a Roscoe's CCB entry for quite awhile now. After all, I realized, this place was one of my initial comida inspirations. I quickly fell out of bed, while shaking K from a pleasant snooze, and we promptly headed to hazy Hollywood for some chicken and waffles. While the exact origins of this dish have been (and will be) disputed by scholars for decades, I do know for a fact that Harlem native Herb Hudson brought his version of soul food to Los Angeles in 1976. After entering into Roscoe's rustic (lit like a wild west brothel) interior, we studied the menu and came up with flying aces. K ordered numero 19: thigh, leg, long grain arroz, gravy, and a biscuit; while I opted for the Carol C. special: suculento breast, syrup, big ass waffle. This hot piece of pollo frito is truly some of the best in the west (or maybe even the south), crispy and flavorful outside and muy tierno on the inside. Pull apart, heap onto buttery waffle, enjoy. The surgeon general may want to stamp a warning on those instructions, but they sure make for a damn fine desayuno.

Alternative Medicine

For the past 22 days I have been plagued with one tedious enfermedad after another. First came a brutal case of stomach poisoning contracted on my last night in Panama City, followed by a cold (sore throat variety) undoubtedly caught due to a weak immune system, couple that with some achy teeth from a dental procedure, then add the most recent cold (cough variety) and the outcome is misery. Not to bore you with my whining, but unable to work today, and tired and swilling NyQuil and chomping ibuprofen, I decided to get out of bed and nip this shit in the bud. Fortunately for me, I was on the comida side of the 'feed a cold, starve la fiebre' adage, so I took the short space jump down to Astronaut Ellison S Onizuka Street, home terminal of Chin-Ma-Ya of Tokyo. There are many of these Sichuan inspired eateries sprinkled throughout Japan, but only a couple exist here across the Pacifico. The concise menu revolves around two dishes: Chin-Ma Han (basically Mapo tofu): organic tofu, scallions, chives, ground carne, Sichuan pepper, chile oil, miso paste. And Tan-Tan Men (an amazing Japanese version of dan-dan noodles): ramen noodles in a rich pork and pollo broth flavored with sesame paste, Sichuan spices, topped with ground carne and espinaca. I made use of the handy spinach salad combo: Tan-Tan Men (medium spicy) and mini salad (spinach, boiled huevos, pepinos, mizuna greens, scallions, cold Cha-shu puerco with a muy rica citrus mustard dressing). Nice handiwork, I gotta say that I'm feeling better already and can't wait until next time to slurp of the mighty Tan-Tan Men. (cough, cough, sniffle).

PS: Next time came sooner than I expected with K now out sick from work too. We both sped to the noodle infirmary for a healthy dose of spicy elixir. They had a new item on the menu as well: Pako Tan-Tan Men (same soup with sliced pork katsu on top). Somehow I think this double treatment is just what the doctor ordered...

Banh Mi, On The Line!

Today seemed like a perfecto opportunity for a knock-down, drag-out Vietnamese sandwich showdown, so I picked tres worthy contestants and went for broke. The first stop was Banh Mi My Tho in Alhambra. I ordered thit nuong (charbroiled pork) on a baguette from this efficient little shop and was making tracks in no time. Next, I hit Saigon's Bakery & Sandwiches in San Gabriel for a thit nuong on a roll. And finally, I sauntered into Banh Mi Che Cali, still ahead of the almeurzo rush, and changed it up with ground beef patties on a baguette (not quite consistent for proper analysis I know, but I had yet to try this one). Before I start judging, I need to admit that I have been to several former French colonies and the so called "salad sandwich" is prepared nowhere better than in the good ole USA. I know I may catch hell for this but my research is solid (ie: scorching already dry pan over charcoal or using congealed offal slices instead of tender carne). Alright then, credibility established let's go for the verdict (note: the price at all cafes peaked at $2.50, all sandwiches contained chiles, cilantro, pepinos, shredded veggies). The chancho at My Tho was the best (so was the vibe) but the pan was a little bland. The pan at Saigon's was the best (soft and fresco) and the BBQ puerco was a close second. The banh mi at Che Cali wins for most interesting (and super tasty) with a sweet brown sauce and mayo accenting the "meatloaf". As for bonus points, My Tho scores with actually having cheaper prices than listed on the to-go carta, while Saigon's and Che Cali both qualify with an alluring "buy two get one free" deal. I thought I would surely be able to name a victor to this contest, but there seems to be a diplomatic three way tie for propiedades. Maybe I am a muy malo decision maker, or maybe I am just easily pleased. Besides, as Debbie Harry might profess you can: "banh mi bahn mi any anytime."

From The Roof Of The World

Que tal? fellow comida lovers and lo siento for the extended absence from my meager insights into the most profoundly important human question of all: What should I venture to eat? I must also apologize for not producing the first internacional entry of CCB while on a recent holiday in Panama. All the intentions were in order, and the local comida was good (highlighted by a simple yet tasty ceviche made with corvina {sea bass}, corn, and cebollas) but I guess in the end it just wasn't that interesting. On that note, I will try and pick up where I left off. One chilly LA Abril afternoon, K (who is now also Mrs. Basura) and I saddled up the Yak and took a circuitous route favored by adroit sherpas to the Crown City; locale of a Himalayan eatery decisively named Tibet Nepal House. The menu here consists of all kinds of appealing dishes like: Mo-Mo dumplings, Phing (long noodles, Sichuan peppers, star anise, verduras), and Thukpa. Today, the goal of our trek was the glimmering 'champagne brunch', a buffet consisting of: Aloo-Taamaa (bamboo shoots, potatoes, curry), tofu saag, pakora, vegetable curry, pollo curry, daal, grilled chicken, shrimp Machha, arroz, roti, and all the flutes of Andre you care to drink at one sitting. I'm not sure where the cheap bubbly idea came from (possibly the result of doing business in fancy pants Pasadena) but it actually complimented the curries quite nicely. Ah, it certainly is refreshing to be back on the trail again. And while I'm way too lleno after this lavish meal to start an expedition up Qomolongma, I can most definitely sit back and enjoy the view.

Hail To The Chief

What better way to celebrate our founding fathers on President's Day than to hang out at an Indonesian grocery/cafe in bright and calido Palms barrio. Actually, since our current numero uno lived in the Menteng area of Jakarta as a young muchacho; this really isn't as far fetched as it may seem. K and I relished in the added benefit of light traffic (which government festivos often provide) as we quickly flew across the Santa Monica freeway to Simpang Asia. The menu at the cafe here is chock full of delectable choices: traditional rice platos, fried pollo, street style noodles, soups, and daily specials. I opted for the relatively novice nasi rames platter: arroz, curry chicken thigh, tofu tempeh, and beef rendang washed down with sweet jasmine teh. K, who ordered the more interesting dish as usual, went for the exotic nasi bungkus lunch special: steamed rice, Balinese style egg, chicken curry, rendang, spiced papas with chicken gizzard, puffy crisps, and vegetable light curry all bundled up in a hot banana leaf served with sour soup and lumpia semerang. Every now and again I develop a distinct type of food postpartum with eateries after a review on Comida Con Basura. This is certainly not gonna happen with Simpang. Seeing as how it's an easy stop between my workplace by the beach and mi casa downtown, I most definitely look forward to future afternoons of "rollin' down the street eatin' Indo, muchin' on mie tek tek." Sorry Snoop.