Monday, 6 October 2008

O Rly? Actually it's Orris on Sawtelle


Orris, with its whimsical font, has always been in the corner of my eye in the last four years. Everytime I pass through Sawtelle, I always see the purple sign beckoning. But it wasn't until this last weekend that I finally dropped in.

More after the jump...

HC of LA OC Foodventures and I have been planning to come to this restaurant for weeks. Things came up, including a rushed LASIK surgery on my part, and we pushed the dinner back. Eventually, the two of us and my girlfriend found an early Saturday night to try the place. Pronounced "Ore-reese" as explained by the waiter, the restaurant is a Japanese inspired French restaurant serving tapa style small plates. If that isn't a mouthful, the portion-sizes certain aren't either. The menu is split into two simple sections "hot" and "cold." Inside, I found the place tastefully decorated and the waiter knowledgeable and charismatic. In fact, so much so that I wouldn't be surprised if this was his day job and he spent his nights rehearsing his audition monologues like the rest of Los Angeles' waitstaff.

We decided to order two dishes each, a hot and a cold. In the end, six dishes for three people was slightly too little so we topped it off with a dessert. The crab and cucumber salad had a creamy ginger sauce but otherwise tasted plain. I could see it being a more successful dish if the crab itself was better. Being from San Francisco, I tend to be a dungeness crab snob. Also, a crab salad should not have pieces of shell. The braised duck breast with yuzu chili paste did not have much duck flavor and should be avoided.

Crab and cucumber salad

Duck breast

The star of the night was ordered by HC--trio of smoked salmon croquettes with caramelized onions, creme fraiche, and flying fish roe. The amazing combination of both tastes and textures could hold its own as either an appetizer or even a light main course. Sweet onions combined with the tart cream and smokey salmon to top the hashbrown consistency of the potato pancake. Little tobiko bits brought briny flavor grainy texture. I'm beginning to think that smoked salmon makes anything better, just as my previous theory with bacon at Fogo de Chao.

Salmon croquettes

For the heavier side of the meal, our Berkshire pork medallions were tender but not much more. The heavy peppercorn sauce covered everything. The shrimp mousse in the ravioli was hardly a factor in what amounted to more of a wonton than a ravioli drenched in a shiitake mushroom sauce. Served with a side of bread, the shiitake sauce made a great dip. Our foie gras in sweet-soy reduction finished it off with a nutty seared texture. I'll admit, I rarely have foie gras, but it always reminds me of uni. It's something I'll eat, but probably not order exclusively.

Pork medallions

Ravioli

Foie gras

The banana and fig flambe lacked the tableside pyrotechnics I like to see in flambes. Also, the menu said blueberries, which were clearly lacking in our dessert. It was the first time I've seen figs with ice cream, but they did a great job cutting through the sweetness. My greatest discovery was actually my beverage for the evening--Asahi Black. Unlike most Japanese beers which are far too light for my tastes, this one had body and depth, but still tasted pure and refreshing. Overall, I wasn't too impressed with Orris. But if I'm looking for something Japanese with a little more French, I'd return. If I'm looking for Japanese with a little more Italian, it's off to Restaurant 2117.

Flambe

Orris
2006 Sawtelle Blvd,
West Los Angeles, 90025
(310) 268-2212
$10-15 per plate

^

Friday, 3 October 2008

Don't Forgo Fogo de Chao


The Fogo de Chao line of churascarias brings Southern Brazilian barbecue to the US in style. With thirteen locations in the States and six in Brazil itself, Fogo has established itself as a decent brand. I cannot say how authentic it is; I could very well be praising the Brazilian PF Chang's, but it is worth a visit. Last night I had a chance to go to the Beverly Hills restaurant with several fellow bloggers.

I met...

Gauchos, or friendly waiters, bring around hefty skewers threaded with fourteen kinds of meats to your table. A simple green-red card lets the servers know when you're aching for some bacon bursting at the seams (there is no in between at Fogo). Since this was a blogger meet-up event, I spent most of my attention on the people over the food. I know, food is always the priority, but I've been here before so I can speak intelligently enough about the dishes.

Well, not so much dishes as heaps of meat. I passed on the sides of plantains and mashed potatoes. From the extensive salad bar, I picked up a few cucumbers to clear my palate between the meat. If you're anything like me, your first reaction hearing that there are fourteen meats is to ask for a list. Hence, here it is with my favorites bolded:
Picanha - Garlic beef sirloin
Filet Mignon - Nothing special, but make sure to get the bacon-wrapped one
Alcatra - Top sirloin
Fraldinha - Bottom sirloin
Costela - Beef ribs
Cordeiro - Lamb chops and leg. I preferred the leg
Lombo - Pork loin with parmesan
Costela de Porco - Pork ribs
Frango - Chicken legs and chicken breasts wrapped in bacon
Linguica - Pork sausage
Ancho - Ribeye

Just make sure whatever option you choose, to ask if there is a bacon-wrapped version. Even if you don't eat bacon, anything bacon-wrapped always tastes better, even fruit.

More importantly, I got a chance to meet Famished LA, Grubtrotters, Kevin Eats, Teenage Glutster, Foodie Traveler, and see Wandering Chopsticks again.


Salad Bar

Meat
^

Monday, 29 September 2008

Lattitude Has the Right Attitude


Okay that title is a bit of a misnomer. The food at Lattitude was special, but not because of any perceived attitude. In fact, the appeal of the restaurant was because it lacked the bold in-your-face style of so many Thai restaurants nowadays. It was just too good/bad a title to pass up.

More after the jump...

A former intern at FoodDigger recommended Lattitude to me a few months ago but it had thus far stayed on my Try List. I complain often about the quality of Thai food nearby Westwood where I live, but in all honesty, I never really try to seek out good Thai. I think that my Thai palate is much more Americanized than my other Asian palates. I can order the uncommon, off-menu items at Chinese, Japanese, Korean and, to a certain extent, Vietnamese restaurants, but never Thai. Sadly, my knowledge of this Southeast Asian cuisine is usually relatively limited. Somedays I just feel like Thai, but only when I feel like being overwhelmed with food that's heavily sauced and often too sweet. I started with the crab rolls appetizer, served with a sweet relish dipping sauce and fried to perfection. Each roll tasted captured the essence of crab and built upon that flavor with a crispy shell.


Crab rolls

My impression of the food at Lattitude was a clear adherence to good judgment. Rather than serving what they think customers would like, they serve what customers should like--food that showcases the ingredients. I've heard that Thai cuisine emphasizes balance in the five flavors of savory, sweet, sour, spicy and bitter, but this doesn't mean that there should be an equal amount of each in every dish. The food at Lattitude didn't try to be everything at once. The balance was in the total meal and not each individual plate. My white seabass with plum sauce illustrated this point perfectly. Since seabass is one of my favorite fish, I knew I had to order it off the specials menu. The fish came steamed and served in the steaming broth. I only slightly detected a hint of plum, not the overwhelming flavor of it masking the fish. A light bed of ginger complemented the white fish nicely.


Steamed white seabass

The prik khing with stir-fried beef and tofu didn't taste like the usual green beans at most places. The chili paste wasn't nearly as thick and dominating. This was actually a case where I would've preferred more flavor though.


Prik Khing

My major disappointment with the dinner was my Tony Jaa inspired tom yum goong. I love this soup so much, it's a rare occasion for me to leave without ordering it. In fact, I almost forgot the soup but ordered it after finishing the rest of the dishes instead. Unfortunately, the soup I had was completely unrecognizable as tom yum. I don't know if it was due to error or regional differences, but my soup was undrinkably sweet. I couldn't taste any of the sultry fish sauce, mouth-puckering kaffir lime or tamarind. The waiter told me the soup was different depending on the area of Thailand. Despite his amiability, I didn't really trust his competence of Thai cuisine though. But even with an epic failure of a soup, I would still come back and try again. If only the soup could get a little bit of a Lattitude adjustment.

Too much? That felt a little forced.


Tom yum goong

Lattitude Thai
2906 Lincoln Boulevard
Santa Monica, 90405
(310) 396-4726
Around $10 a dish; small to midsized portions

^

Tuesday, 23 September 2008

Community Building through Food: 5x5 Dinner at La Terza



Almost all of the tables were cleared and silent, a clear contrast from the commotion of earlier in the evening. The hordes of diners who had made service a nightmare were no where in sight. However, even though the upstairs dining room had cleared out, the commotion had just moved to the bar and transformed into banter and camaraderie. A successful night had finished, raising money for Special Olympics, and now the chefs celebrated the last of their 5x5 series.

More after the jump...

The 5x5 dinner is about fostering a sense of community among chefs and restaurateurs in the Los Angeles area. I met up with Tangbro and his two friends who often eat together at some of the best restaurants in LA and OC. These three knew how to eat, having a dining list that is my dream dinner wish list. We talked about future dinners, including a night at Urasawa and other big events. Eating with them, I felt comfortable, not ostracized for taking notes and pictures before each first bite.

Artichoke in casserole, octopus with fava bean puree and squid ink gelatin, scrambled egg with summer truffle – Gino Angelini, La Terza


Artichoke

Octopus

Scrambled Eggs

Artichoke, octopus and eggs, three ingredients I’m never that excited about. In fact, outside of breakfast, I typically hate eggs in any form. Even at breakfast, I can only have a few eggs before I start feeling sick. These three little bites were a gentle introduction to the marvels ahead. My first taste, the artichoke, reminded me of a wonton. The leaves of the artichoke were soft, and the olive oil added a slickness that felt like pulling Chinese dumplings out of soup. The octopus was very tender, so much so that I could hardly recognize it as octopus. However, it was strangely fishy, not the best attribute for this cephlapod. My redemption came from the unlikeliest place—the scrambled eggs. A crispy square of toast held the fluffy eggs elevated by the presence of summer truffle. I don’t know how Gino made his eggs taste this good, but I would love to try a La Terza breakfast one day.

Hamachi crudo, heirloom tomato sorbetto, celery and blood orange oil – Walter Manzke, formerly of Bastide


Considering this dish took an hour to arrive, I had high expectations. It was a crudo after all, how much preparation can go into it, but my first impression upon seeing the plate put me at ease and silenced my complaints. Beautifully composed, balanced in symmetry as well as color, this dish exuded gaiety in plating. I eagerly snapped several pictures before picking up my fork, somewhat distraught at the thought of having to break up this masterpiece. The problem with a dish like this, there were so many components to keep track of that I wasn’t quite sure if I got the right combination of tastes all at once. Therefore, what follows was a confusing array of sweet sorbet, oily hamachi, acidic tomato, and fruity olive oil. On the texture side, there was not nearly as much contrast considering most of the ingredients were the type to dissolve on your tongue. While I had high expectations because of the impressive plating, the flavors were too unbalanced and scattered for me to form a coherent taste. However, I do commend Chef Manzke for trying to creating flavors following form; but while his colors blend together to make a symphony, the dish left a discordant flavor in my mouth.

Roasted scallops, Montbazillac and pistachios emulsion – Alain Giraud, Anisette


Though the scallops were listed third on our menu, the waiters accidentally brought it out second. Disgruntled, we told them that our crudo hadn’t arrived yet. With an apology, the scallops were gone as quickly as they arrived. At this point we felt that we should’ve kept the extra scallops as reparation, and when we finally did try them, we definitely would’ve asked for more. Easily my favorite dish of the entire night, I adored every aspect of this masterfully crafted dish. Admittedly, a large sea scallop seared in a little butter is one of my favorites so Giraud had it easy. But the things he did with the wine and pistachio sauce and his superb technique in judging the doneness of shellfish brought my understanding to a whole different level. I judge a good chef to be one who can introduce me to a new food; I judge a great chef to be one who can take my love of a food to a whole new level. The scallop had the strata of a beautifully grilled steak—rare and delicate in the middle and crisp and browned on the surface. Big specks of sea salt added to the texture of the crust as well as bringing out the natural flavor of the shellfish. The creamy sauce makes my mouth water now recollecting it. Often times I wonder how well I can actually perceive umami in a dish, but there was no doubt for the scallops.

Sweet corn agnolotti, cockles, guanciale, rosemary and matsuatake mushrooms – David LeFevre, Water Grill


Having just had a shellfish course, I was surprised to see another so soon. After all, looking at the picture, you can hardly see the agnolotti, a type of ravioli, and only see the large shells of the cockles, a type of clam. I’ve always been a fan of foams; even though they have no real substance, they convey much flavor and playfulness. What LeFevre did here was inspired. Using the foam, herbs and shells, he created a beach scene on my plate. The shells of newly discovered clams with lapping foam of the sea…and pork. Who said a beach scene can’t be improved by a little porcine discovery as well? Guanciale is a strongly flavored Italian bacon similar to pancetta and in this dish played the major savory role. The counterbalance to the intensely salty bacon was the sweet corn, gently wrapped in sheets of pasta. I detected hints of ginger too that combined well with the rosemary, which contrary to my initial concerns, didn’t overpower the dish.
At this point my companions and I had the pleasure of meeting Food She Thought at the neighboring table. As she astutely points out in her entry, the staff did seem to conveniently tuck us away out of sight and out of mind. However, it gave us a chance to connect and talk over the differences between clams and cockles. Finding out she was also on Foodbuzz, we traded blog info and favorite restaurants while waiting for our next course.

Wood grilled Hawaiian Big Eye tuna, fresh cranberry beans, squid, basil and munak ranch tomatoes – Michael Cimarusti, Providence


The most underwhelming dish of the night was still much better than anything at most restaurants. I felt that the tuna had not been seared at high enough temperatures and there wasn’t opportunity for crisp enough crust to form. The result was not as favorable as a sharper delineation between browned exterior and rare interior. I don’t know much about cranberry beans, but they tasted no different than fava beans which didn’t belong with the fish. The squid was limited to a single tentacle that seemed out of place in both presentation and taste. My favorite aspect of this dish is the green moat surrounding the tuna. My companions and I had the hardest time figuring it out until the waiter finally explained that it was parsley derived. No wonder, who ever eats parsley? It was a flavor that was so familiar to all of us yet ultimately unidentifiable.

Lamb loin and shank, eggplant-potato “parmesan,” lamb jus – Josiah Citrin, Melisse


For those of you who have been with me to Mediterranean restaurants before, my love for lamb is no secret. I would choose this fluffy creature over any other terrestrial creature on any menu. Therefore, you can expect my delight in seeing this course on the menu. Meeting Chef Citrin, I could easily see how his bold personality came out in his dish. The three pieces on this plate all had strong flavors, any of which could be the dominating flavor of the course. The loin was remarkably uniform in doneness and slightly gamey, but I love gamey. Our waiter described the eggplant-potato as a terrine. My impression was that it tasted like a hash brown. The sweet onions inside of it were a delightful surprise though. For the shank, I would’ve liked to taste other notes rather than just the overwhelming lambiness.

Before our dessert, a lone fellow wanders over to our table. He saw Tangbro and I snapping pictures and immediately recognized us as bloggers. Apparently, he follows food blogs including Oishii Eats and even flattered me by telling me that he had heard of GildedPalate before. We discussed our impressions of the dishes that night, comparing our favorites and universally complaining about the service. I gave him my last Foodbuzz business card and invited him to e-mail me if he would like to meet up some time for another dinner.

Babá with rum and strawberries – Gino Angelini, La Terza


I was mildly confused by our dessert. What was this massive cake that looked like an elongated muffin but glistened with a wet sheen? The menu description didn’t say much, but I suppose I was just uneducated in the realm of French desserts. A babá, or baba au rhum, is a rum soaked cake made from a batter of eggs, milk and butter. This thing sitting in front of me was massive, easily the largest item of the night. Sticking my fork into its side, I prayed it wouldn’t have any density, lest I die immediately from a heart attack after eating it. To my amazement, the flavor was intense, and the texture thankfully light. In fact, biting into it I could only imagine this was what it felt like to eat a cloud heavy with rain and about to pour. Each mouthful had slight rum flavor but without any harshness of alcohol. The cinnamon sprinkling and candied lemon added more dimension, but ultimately it was still too sweet and much too large for a dessert.

Event after event should have soured my mood for the night. Our waiter forgetting our second course, taking an hour between courses, promising to make it up to us with a bottle of Pellegrino (wow!), and being stuck in a deserted corner of the restaurant. I should have left disappointed, even furious that I had paid $150 to be treated more like a nuisance than a customer. But at no time was I unhappy. We came down the stairs after paying for our meal and wandered into the spontaneous after-party for the 5x5 series. Chef Citrin waved us over and asked how we enjoyed our food. He introduced me to the firm handshake of Chef Cimarusti, looking happy if not a bit haggard. Chefs LeFevre and Manzke were the quiet ones, but they responded positively to hearing our applause for their food. Walking out of the kitchen, Chef Angelini could have been a stern disciplinarian at work, but he greeted me with amity. Most notably, Chef Giraud made the most impact on me that night. He personified the garrulous French chef, talking happily about the success of Anisette and inviting us all over. Having met the people who designed me food, I had another layer of appreciation for my dinner.

I walked out of La Terza having met all the chefs, another blogger, two new fellow diners, and a blog reader. The dinner didn’t just create a community producing food, it created a community consuming it too. This is one instance where the food actually inspired me to write great things about it, even for the dishes I disagreed with but could still appreciate. For the total experience more than the food alone, the 5x5 dinner at La Terza was the best meal of my life to date.


From left: Me, Angelini, Giraud, Citrin, LeFevre, Manzke, Cimarusti

^

Sunday, 21 September 2008

7 Courses of Beef You Wouldn't Want to Miss: Vietnam San Gabriel


Admittedly the title is a little unclear, but then so is the name of the restaurant. Feeling like I deserved a treat after the mind-numbingly boring auditing training, I hopped in my car and followed Jonathan Gold to San Gabriel for my first experience with Seven Courses of Beef.

More after the jump...

For awhile, I've heard about the famous Bo 7 Mon or Seven Courses of Beef from my mom and several Vietnamese friends. I've rarely seen it in restaurants however, finding out that it's usually served for special occasions or in high-end restaurants. Of course, when I eat Vietnamese, it's hardly ever high-end. Even $7 pho is too expensive for me. When I read Jonathan Gold's Counter Intelligence article on Vietnam, I knew I had to try it. Since this is a Vietnamese heavy entry, I'd appreciate the help of Wandering Chopsticks for any corrections.

The generically named restaurant seemed a little odd considering it didn't contain the words "pho, Saigon" in the name or end with a number. But I suppose coming from a rich history of restaurants, the food and experience of the proprietors can speak for itself. Michael Le, whose parents own the famous Golden Deli, runs Vietnam, and it was him that took my order. Explaining that this was the first time I had Bo 7 Mon he graciously helped me with the rice paper wrappings and introduced each course. Of course, finding out that I wasn't Vietnamese, he was much more patient with my pronunciation.


My mis en place for meat with bo nhung dam in the center

A young Vietnamese waiter with broken English brought out the rice paper, herbs, do chua (pickles) and sweet dipping sauce to accompany the beef. First up, the bo nhung dam described as "beef dip in vinegar broth" in the menu. My first instinct was to dip my soup spoon into the boiling pot. After all, it was crystal clear with a few onions, nothing that looked particularly flavorful. Of course my assumptions associating color with flavor were completely wrong when I tasted the sharp astringency of the vinegar. Dipping my thinly sliced pieces of steak into the broth briefly, keeping the meat rare, I wrapped it haphazardly in soaked rice paper with the pickels, basil, cilantro and topped it with some light sauce. Although the spring roll was a colossal disaster, the pieces I managed to get in my mouth were well worth the embarrassment (keep in mind, at this point they still thought I was an extremely inept Vietnamese).



I found a mysterious pale strip on my plate with the cucumbers. It was slightly flesh, resembling an trumpet mushroom. Putting a little in my mouth, I drew back immediately. It tasted like soap and somehow immediately drew all the moisture out of my tongue. Odd sensation yes, but not one I'd like to repeat. When I got home, I did a little research and I'm reasonably certain that I had my first experience with raw galangal. Wandering Chopsticks says that this was probably astringent green banana peel since Vietnamese don't eat raw galangal.


Clockwise from top left: bo cha dum, bo nuong la lot, bo mo chai, bo sa-te (sorry for the shrimp chip in the way)

Next came four courses at once. Since I was only one person, there were only a few pieces of each beef course, but still enough for two people with another appetizer on the side. Bo cha dum (baked ground beef) didn't look like much, the essentially large meat ball, had more flavor than anything you find on top of pasta or in the freezer case at Ikea. According to Wikipedia, the beef is rolled in caul fat to protect it during cooking. I don't know how much it protects the meat, but it sure flavored it.

Bo nuong la lot (charbroiled beef in aromatic lot leaf) reminded me of the grape leaf rolled rice in Greek cuisine. In fact, the leaves tasted similar, but also like the lotus leaves used to wrap Chinese sticky rice. It made the beef slightly sweet and uniquely flavored compared to the two preparations I had before.

Bo mo chai (grilled beef steak) surprised me. My first impression was a beef sausage, not too common in Asia. But biting through the sausage, I realized it was actually a tightly rolled piece of grilled steak wrapped around a scallion. Although the simplest in flavor, this course let the essence of the beef shine through without clouding it with other flavors, including that ubiquitous fish sauce.

Bo sa-te (beef in sate sauce) looked much more like a meatball than bo cha dum but had the consistency of a hamburger. The meat was tightly packed, slightly tougher to chew. I'm not entirely sure what "sate sauce" is. A couple contenders could be the peanut sauce used in Thai cooking, or maybe the sacha sauce of Chinese, but the flavor didn't match either one.



Eating all this beef, I needed something to cleanse the palate. Out came the next dish bo salat simply "beef salad." The thinly sliced red onions certainly didn't clean my palate, but it was a break from the meat. This dish was heavily doused in fish sauce and the familiar flavors of grilled Vietnamese dishes returned. Black pepper on the beef gave a nice change of heat compared to the peppers in the other courses.




Michael Le came over and asked how I was doing. We talked, surprisingly, in Chinese for awhile when he realized my true ethnicity. It isn't uncommon for Vietnamese people to speak Chinese or to have Chinese heritage, and in fact, I could pick up on a slight accent. He brought out the last course chao bo (beef porridge). Unlike Cantonese congee, this porridge was thin and soupy with broken rice and ground beef and strands of fresh ginger. The consistency was more like Japanese ochazuke. While a refreshing way to end the meal, I'm not a fan of boiled meat.

My first experience with seven courses of beef went extraordinarily well. Perhaps I picked a good restaurant or perhaps I was just born to eat a cow prepared seven ways. Jumping right into the beef, I neglected to mention the decor of the restaurant. Simply put, it's a Vietnamese restaurant, how different do they get? Surprisingly though, Vietnam takes credit card, not that I needed it. What do you think seven courses costs? Less than $2 per course actually. I thanked Mr. Lee, ordered a pork banh mi to go, and drove off eager to bring someone back with me next time.


It was delicious by the way!

Vietnam
(626) 281-5577
340 W Las Tunas Drive
San Gabriel, 91776
Closed Thursday
$14 for seven courses of beef; $3.25 for banh mi

^

Friday, 19 September 2008

Hardly Any Fair at All: The Mitsuwa Torrance Hokkaido Fair



Due to a strange course of events, I actually ended up at two food events last Saturday. After returning home from the aforementioned LA BBQ Festival, I drove down to Torrance for the Mitsuwa Market Hokkaido Festival. I actually didn't know what to expect, but I heard good things from I Nom Things and LA OC Foodie. What I found when I entered the store, was hardly a fair at all.

See what I found...

Maybe it was the fact that in was indoors. Maybe I just had too high an expectation. Maybe it was just the supermarket setting that threw me. Whatever the reason, I felt like this was more of a Hokkaido Sale than a Hokkaido Fair. Sure, the stands featured seafood and supposedly other treats from Hokkaido, but it just seemed like Mitsuwa was featuring special items. They set up a special seafood section selling fresh fish, beautiful crabs and other assorted fruits de mer. I was still quite full from the barbecue festival however, and didn't feel like springing for a king crab bento box for $20. In retrospect, it might have been money worth spent, but king crab can be $9.99 per pound when it's on sale at Vons.



Not wanting to leave empty handed, I did wait in the unbearably long line for the desserts. From the look of it, the fair was much more popular than anticipated. They ran out of melon pan (melon flavored pastries) and were only serving Hokkaido-style soft-serve and cream puffs. For $3, the cream puff was terrible. For $2, it would be bareable. For $1, it would still be wildly overpriced. I regret not getting a chance to try the melon pan though. On the other hand, the ice cream was a delightful treat. Not cheap either, slightly under $3, it did offer something unique. The taste was undeniably milky, something you can't easily find in the States. All I can say is that it reminded me much of the milk in Asia, but if you haven't had it before, I don't exactly know how else to describe it except "milky." I want to say that it has a vitamin taste to it, perhaps with a powder sensation. Some Japanese milk flavored candies have this flavor and they are much easier to find in Asian markets.





While I left without quite feeling in the fair spirit, it was a nice trip. I'll admit that I may not have had the full experience because I didn't buy any seafood and didn't try the famous Hokkaido miso and butter ramen. Besides the dessets, I also bought some groceries for a great dinner made by my girlfriend and some somen for lunch. It was my first experience with somen and I highly enjoyed it as a light lunch. So even though the Hokkaido Fair was not quite what I expected, this was one time when I didn't complain about life being unfair.

^

Monday, 15 September 2008

LA BBQ Fest Debriefing



Looks rather grim and not that impressive, huh? I think that's the general sense I got from the long-awaited barbecue festival. Strangely enough, the weather seemed to match the mood of most of the participants. All around me people seemed stuffed, but not particularly satisfied.

See why after the jump...

Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't say that the festival was a failure. I just felt that the hype surrounding it definitely deflated some of its impact. For one thing, the vendor list of pitmasters seemed to change several times. Of the eight barbecue tents, there were only three from out of town. Granted, LA might have some excellent meats, but I was looking for something I couldn't get locally. The fair itself also seemed rather small, taking up just a corner of the Santa Monica Beach parking lot. I could smell the smokers from Ocean Boulevard, but there wasn't one sign pointing me down to the festival. If it wasn't for the aroma, I couldn't be sure this was actually it.

I tried three places with HC, Will and Thi: LC's Kansas City Spareribs, Southside's Elgin Texas Hot Sausage and Brisket, and Bandana's St. Louis Spareribs. The crowds of lines were good indicators of which barbecue tasted the best, and LC's line was by far the longest.

LC's BBQ



As you can see, LC puts a lot of work into their ribs. What I liked best is the care that went into the ribs themselves rather than heavy reliance on heavy sauce. Tender, but still with enough resistance to the teeth is exactly how I like my ribs. Spare ribs tend to have more fat, thus being more tender than baby back, so they are actually my ribs of choice for barbecue. Although you're more likely to get a rack of baby back here, St. Louis and Kansas City have healthy traditions of using the spare ribs. Tastewise, the ribs had balanced flavors that you don't find in most bad barbecue. All too often meat is usually too salty or cloyingly sweet. The spare ribs at LC's tent were savory with a coating mouthfeel and a hint of smoke. Call it umami or call it whatever you want, but these ribs had a ton of it. I'm not sure what kind of recognition LC's has in Kansas City, but they certainly made an impact with their barbecue in Los Angeles.

Bandana's BBQ



LC's was a tough act to follow. They were indeed some of the best ribs I've ever had. I turned to St. Louis for some competition. For some comparison, I got to the fair right when they opened and there was hardly anyone there. We still waited ten minutes or so for LC's line. When I turned to the Bandana tent, the ribs were lined up on the table waiting for the customers to come. If you look closely at the picture, you can see how dry the ribs are. They were overcooked and flaky. It occurred to me that this was not that much different than beef jerky. Only a variety of sauces made it palatable. Yet even with a whole bottle of their spicy bbq sauce, I still would not pay $10 for their ribs again.

Southside Market and BBQ



From Elgin, Texas comes this Southside barbecue truck spitting out hot links and beef brisket. The brisket was terrible; even doused with sauce it was tough and flavorless. The sausage was not as hot as I had hoped. It was definitely greasy though. I thought it was a juicy frank when I bit into it, but it just coated my mouth in oil. Eating it with raw onions helped take the edge off slightly.

Leyna's Babycakes
leynaskitchen.com


Although I only had a piece of the strawberrilicious cupcake, it was indeed as light and fluffy as advertised. Even the frosting didn't weigh me down. I wonder what they put in these things to obtain that consistency. As of now, I think Leyna only does catered orders, but maybe one day you'll see a Leyna's Babycakes store...at least until Sprinkles sues it out of existence.

All in all, some things I would've liked to see done better:
-Display of instructions and banners for the event
-Smaller portions and cheaper prices
-Better representation from outside the area
-Something to cleanse the meat palate. Maybe a salad?
-Other bbq type activities besides just eating

Maybe I missed out by not going to the local pitmasters, but I can always check them out on my own. For more event details, refer to my previous entry

^