Use Your Noodle

Is it truly absurd to motor 15 miles for a bowl of noodles? Not when you got the time and the traffic's right. Besides, distance driving is a sport Angelenos frequently play whether we want to or not. But more importantly, as a wise comida sage once told me, when one is faced with the promise of phenomenal noodles it is always prudent to take advantage. K and I faithfully accepted this advice and sped out to Temple City for a Taiwanese style almuerzo at House of Mandarin Noodle.

While ordering a fresh mango juice, the stern (yet meticulous) waitstaff quickly profiled us and determined that K most certainly spoke Hokkien dialect (which she doesn't) and that I, Solo Basura, should ultimately be given the option to eat with a fork. With that established, I set the wheels is motion and ordered it up.

The first item on the block was a glistening bowl of puerco wontons in a spicy sauce with crushed peanuts and chopped celery. These little bambinos cover a lot of bases: fiery flavors and juicy dumplings combine with an emphatic crunch. During my savory foray, I couldn't help but think that this dish would make an excellent desayuno and it would sure as shinola wake you up in no time flat.

Next came the sliced beef pancake (sometimes referred to as a Shandong beef roll due to its Northern Chinese origins) stuffed with carne, green onions and cilantro. I must admit that I have had better versions of this tasty creation, but I also realize it's counterintuitive to complain about anything that's beefy and flaky.

And for the finale, a steaming cauldron of delicioso beef noodle soup: rich broth (not greasy at all) with tender carne, firm noodles, scallions, and cilantro. This stuff will put a smile on your face and damn sure cure what ails ya. If beef isn't your thing HOMN has around twenty noodle soups (along with stewed cold cuts) to choose from, just be sure not to miss out. I am deeply humbled to have recalled my comida teachings in such a meaningful way: it's not the distance, it's the noodle. This was well worth the trip.

A Happy Diversion

While attempting to reach my local Italian deli for a look at a sandwich of legendary stature (later, for sure), I was abruptly blockaded by an unexplainable swarm of LAPD. This included three low flying helicopters, a dozen or so motorcycles, and an endless stream of squad cars all being filmed by a rookie cop with a smart phone. I decided not to take any chances in case they were going gangbusters towards the previously mentioned deli (which is certainly popular with the fuzz), and changed my course entirely heading south to Arlington Heights where La Cevicheria rocks gently in the breeze. This place is no secret, but the steady trickle of customers (never overwhelming) seems to make the already jovial proprietor even more elated. Walking up to the screen door my mouth started watering like Pavlov's dog when I mentally pictured my usual ceviche of choice.

The Chapin: a holy grail of tangy mixed mariscos Guatemalan style. One might presume that a ceviche recipe from a landlocked country might be a bit like buying a surfboard in Nebraska, but believe me this is some of the best that the present universe has to offer: shrimp, pulpo, crab, tomates, red onions, avocado, cilantro, fresh mint, and Worcestershire sauce served with a dynamic duo of tostadas and habanero salsa.

 In addition to a Peruvian ceviche (highlighted with red snapper and yellow aji peppers) and the now infamous chalice of Bloody Clams, La Cevicheria serves hearty Caribbean fish stews along with industrious seafood cocktails like vuelve a la vida: camarones, oysters, abalone, octopus, crab, fish ceviche, tomates, pepinos, onion, avacado, and cilantro all swimming in a saucy micro-ocean. Whatever your briny poison, this spot has got you covered. I would like to thank the LAPD for a truly pleasant dining experience and for reminding me that when you go one way I'll gladly go another. Here's mud in your eye!

Khao Soi 3: Search for Curly Gold

It's been almost a full year since my first sequel regarding the magical qualities of everyone's favorite Northern Thai noodle dish, so today I sailed over the Cahuenga pass to Sri Siam for a golden bowl of Khao Soi. North Hollywood is largely known for cranking out infinite amounts of internet pornography, but this fair barrio also hosts a decent amount of solid Thai cafes that can be just as tantalizing. Sri Siam serves all the basics plus a wide array of noodle soups (like yen ta fo sho kun: spicy rice noodle soup, fish cake, fish balls, espinaca), flavorful seafood dishes (such as crispy soft shell crab with green curry), and tangy salads (like the crispy rice salad: sour sausage mixed with crispy rice, roasted cacahuetes, ginger, green onion). However, with the focus of my comida adventure already predetermined, I ordered and waited vigilantly to get my hands once again on the savory treasure.

One curious detail hit me right away when the menu offered Khao Soi with a choice of beef or pork. As we know by now, this dish has Muslim roots and is sometimes served with carne but certainly almost never with pork. I should have simply requested pollo but I stuck with it and opted for beef. Along with a unique crispy egg noodle chopstick holder, this version came with the tipico sidecar: purple onion, bean sprouts, limon, pickled mustard greens, and a potent chili flake sauce. Once the components were fused, I set right in and experienced those joyful spicy sniffles in no time flat. During my slurping I suddenly realized that a Sri Siam bowl of Khao Soi is way hotter than any neighborhood skin flick, even on a good day. So for those of appropriate age and equal interest, here's a candid peek. Hubba Hubba.

Earthquake on 1st Street

Sometimes signage above a restaurant is just too ridiculous to ignore. Such is the case with La Chicken in Little Tokyo which flaunts colorful banners that tout Japanese tacos and burritos. At first glance this seemed like another in a long line of 'Asian Confusion' joints that create needless comida combinations designed to enhance mediocre flavors. This aside, I promptly swallowed the bait (seeing that separately Japanese comida and tacos rank high here at CCB) and found myself intrigued even further by the baffling sign plastered on the front door.

I chalked this up to a translation quirk but made a mental note to be on the lookout for a 'new car scent' when dining on my pollo of choice. I ordered dos tacos fully expecting that teriyaki sauce would make up the Japanese component but man did I get it wrong.

These plugs are nothing short of spectacular: marinated pollo (spicy and juicy), chopped cilantro, cebollas, and finely diced avocado. After fueling up at the condiment bar, I suddenly understood the Asian persuasion. Two ice cold and frothy salsas: the green (Japanese mayo, wasabi, and basil) and the red (Japanese mayo and Sriracha) whipped thin with a submersible blender. This is just a guess because when I inquired about the composition of these mystifying elixirs the proprietor (who I had already pissed off by snapping pictures) simply stated: "that one's spicy, that one's medium". While delving into this flavor explosion there was a slight seismic occurrence, which made a nice emphasis on an excellent almuerzo. Nothing at all to get worried about, although I'm pretty sure this dumpster jumped over a solid foot...Kampai!

Down on the Corner

Upon hearing longtime rumors regarding the elusive Oaxacan quesadilla lady (complete with her traditional blue corn masa), I frequently sneak a peek whenever I pass the intersection of Sunset and Echo Park to just maybe catch a glimpse of the legendary comida phantom. So after three years of vain searching (someday, Oaxacan quesadilla lady...), I must admit that I have only set ojos on this wonderful little mujer who serves up tasty quesadilla fritas Mexico City style. Was there some epic quesadilla battle to decide which culinary region would ultimately control this turf? Perhaps the good people on the street silently demanded a sea change from blue to fried?  

Whatever the case, I have eaten a pile of these crispy dandies and they never fail to fill those queso cravings. For me the most sought after variety is shredded pollo in red sauce followed closely by the papas con queso. There very well may be other astonishing selections but I have yet to deviate from the norm. The process is simple: masa gets patted out, fillings are added, then it's folded and fried until golden. Once your order is up, our fearless mujer will administer cabbage, crema, and crumbled queso blanco (similar to Parmesan) to your liking then set you loose on the salsa buckets. I wish I could pinpoint which variety is the most picante, but from experience I've got to say all of them. No matter what colorful combination I create it somehow always manages to turn out hotter than the center of Hades. 

The crema certainly helps to soothe the heat but to make sure you're on the safe side do a 180, cross the street, and get yourself an ice cold cerveza (or perhaps a cocktail in a can). Now available on balmy summer evenings, see you there.

Go For Broke

With a house warming shindig to attend just north of adroit LAX, K and I got an early start on Sabado and went the extra mile down to Gardena specifically for some authentic Hawaiian style comida. Crammed in a tiny strip mall on Vermont Av, Bob's Okazu Ya beckons leeward travelers to have a seat and ease into Island time. Not only is Bob's possibly my new favorito place on Earth, but the food is decidedly some of the best I've had on the Mainland. In Japanese, Okazu means 'side dish' and Ya means 'shop' which in total translates to 'a take-out joint with comida ready to scoop from a steam table'. This is an excellent way to order here, 'Da Kine' plate lunch combos are both mouthwatering and affordable. Just pick your vegetables then your meat and off you go. Along with Chow Fun and Nishime (a humble root stew), some of the more amusing vegetable choices are: cabbage and onion with Kalua pork, beef tofu, and chicken long rice. As for the meat, highlights include: sweet and sour pork rib, shoyu pollo, beef curry, and Char Siu. With that said, K and I formulated a different plan and ordered from the Ono menu instead.

Looking for something crispy, K bravely chose the mammoth 'Go For Broke' special: pollo katsu, Nori wrapped chicken (muy sabroso), Chow Fun, mac salad, and rice. Ah, yeah.

I, Solo Basura, maintain a gigante soft spot for all things Poke: Ahi (Yellowfin Tuna), sea salt, Limu seaweed, Maui onion, soy sauce, inamona (roasted candlenut), and sesame oil served over shredded cabbage with mac salad and rice. After letting the juices flow together for a minute or two, I quickly pulled the trigger. If there exists in the world a mixture of flavors this electrifying I look forward to finding it, believe you me. Bob's also routinely features live music (in our case a duo strumming breezy popular standards) which is truly the syrup on the shaved ice.

Hit the Bong

 

It's certainly not out of the ordinary to find members of mi familia quickly pairing off to split a bowl of jjambbong when closing out a meal at any number of Korean Chinese restaurants across the Southland. Today however it was just K and I, and seeing as how we had a hankering for the spicy seafood noodle sopa, we marked a plot west along Beverly to the California Market where Hong Kong Banjum shines like a bright red traffic light. There are basically two items on the menu here: jjambbong and tangsuyuk.

The version of jjambbong at HKB is nothing short of phenomenal: spicy broth (two employees wore goggles), veggies (onions, carrots, cabbage), calamares, pork, and wheat flour noodles. Served with a few slices of takuan, this stuff is a whirlwind of flavor from start to finish. Even the noodles are perfecto (an afterthought at some establishments), staying nice and firm while bathing in the steamy pastiche.

Also felt was an uncontrollable urge to order some tangsuyuk (a Korean take on sweet and sour pork): skillfully breaded puerco fried and topped with a self-administering cup of gooey sauce (wood-ears, carrots, onions with hints of plum and pineapple). Give yourself an early birthday present and come here as soon as humanly possible. While going to town on this business along the stainless steel counter, I was embarrassingly alarmed by a sudden blast of heat blown through the bullet proof kitchen glass. Fortunately for us all, K recaptured this comida sequence for the annals of history (watch the eyebrows).