[title type="h5"]Tuesday, March 18, 2014.[/title]
I was up first, and went downstairs to the lobby of the Fairmont Marimar Hotel for coffee and a failed attempt at writing a newsletter for my patient subscribers. And a little breakfast of muffins and croissants.
During this relaxing morning, I was phone-interviewed by two different people, both of whom wanted my perspectives on the food scene back at home. One of them took over an hour, mainly because I couldn't hear her well on my old iPhone. Mary Leigh says she will select a new one for me, but we keep hitting the same wall: Jude always gets the phone upgrades as soon as they become available. I get only his cellular hand-me-downs.
Jude is mildly miffed that we are staying so far from where he lives or is working this week. Nevertheless, he joined us for lunch at 800 Degrees, the hot new pizza place in L.A. Wood-fired stone oven from Naples, etc., etc. (Entire segments of the restaurant business do all the same things all at the same times.) The pizza was light and good, but no better than Ancora or Domenica or RocketFire back in New Orleans.
But here's what makes it popular (at least for now). You walk down a cafeteria-like line, and select what kind of crust you want, what cheese, what sauce, what meats or other toppings. It seems that every casual restaurant in the rest of America (i.e., Metairie) uses this format. I think it's a terrible idea. A chef will assemble a better pizza than you will. Why do we need to control every detail, just because we're customers?
Jude looked tired and distracted. But that's show biz, as he knows well. I didn't like seeing him this way, but I'm proud that he understands the importance of assuming responsibility and getting the job done well.
After lunch, we moved to the Langham Hotel Resort in Pasadena. It's Mary Ann's home away from home, to the point that many of the employees greet her as a regular. The Langham is in the middle of an upscale residential area, and dates back to the 1800s. Its grounds are expansive and beautiful. Just being there feels good, and the room rates--if bought at the right times--are what even I would consider affordable.
Since the last time I was here, the Langham's main restaurant--The Royce, recipient of a star or two from no less than Michelin--became an upscale steak house. (See my note above about how the restaurant biz moves in lockstep.)
Steak is off my table for Lent, and the Royce's menu promised too big a meal for me anyway. Instead, we moved to the bar next door and a table near the fireplace. (It has been unseasonably chilly.) We dined from the bar menu. We like the Langham's bar. The first time I was there, I was pleased to see that the Sazerac was the very first item on their list of specialty cocktails, which proves that they have some sense.
I had a Negroni this time. And since we were safely in a hotel, I permitted myself a second Negroni. We ordered sliders from the bar menu. The corned beef sliders were terrible, which surprised us: the corned beef hash on the Langham's breakfast menu has always been wonderful. I had three sliders made with ground wagyu beef. Hamburgers, in other words. I was expecting thin steaks, but I wasn't thinking hard enough. (Must have been that second Negroni.)
Back up in the room, we find it impossible to tear ourselves away from the missing Malaysian Airlines 777 jet. It's the most time I've spent watching Anderson Cooper and Wolf Blitzer since Katrina.
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[title type="h5"]Wednesday, March 19, 2014.
Dining In The Dark.
[/title]
I usually have to talk Mary Ann into having breakfast with me. But she loves taking that meal at the Langham. The servers all know her and her tastes. They save a chocolate scone for her every morning. I like the place, too, for its offbeat selections. Today I had two thick slices of whole-wheat French toast, served with a side of pineapple chunks in a cold sauce Anglaise. I've never encountered the like of this before. Very good!
When I'm on vacation, I try to publish the New Orleans Menu three days a week instead of the usual five. But we have been so busy running to keep up with Jude that I only today got my first newsletter of the week out today. I think the problem may be that my ancient laptop is too old and slow. Looking for its date of birth, I found an even more damning fact about its past: it was assembled in Malaysia. It's a miracle it hasn't disappeared.
Mary Ann loves Los Angeles and its set pieces. One of those is In-And-Out Burger. It opened in the 1940s in L.A., and for most of its history it has been exclusively a California phenenomenon. It has been claimed that McDonald's got most of its ideas from In-And-Out Burger, whose colors and iconography resemble those of the younger McD's.
Anyway, Mary Ann cannot show up in L.A. without at some point indulging in an In-And-Out Double-Double and a side of its fresh-cut fries. The place really is pretty good as basic hamburgers go. And she had her fix today for lunch, while I looked on.
[caption id="attachment_41718" align="alignnone" width="300"]
The million-dollar house.[/caption]We spent the afternoon looking for houses to buy, then to make a fortune reselling. MA assures me that we can clean out our retirement fund for this strategy, without worrying about the risk. Or, perhaps, it will give Jude a permanent place to live. The prices for each of the three houses were well over a million dollars. It took my breath away to hear the Realtor refer so blithely to a million dollars. I'm still impressed by a hundred thousand.
The house MA liked best was a futuristic place hanging on the side of a cliff, with windows all around and large rooms. My eyes kept returning to the sight of a tree that literally spiralled out of the rocky ground, then grew some eighty feet high. In New Orleans, this tree would have fallen on top of the house five times already.
One thing I know for certain is that under no circumstances am I moving to Los Angeles.
Dinner tonight was in what Jude says is one of the hottest and hippest new restaurants in Los Angeles. Hinoki And The Bird (they spell it all in lowercase) is in what looks like (but probably isn't) an old warehouse in Century City.
When we arrived at eight, the place was packed with people, who were seated in a format I saw many times around L.A. The tables line up squarely, not diagonally, giving the impression that they are long tables separated only by gaps between the chairs. (In fact, the tables are discrete.)
The rear dining room, where we dined, was very dark in general, with a particular deep shadow below the non-working light bulb above our table. In my camera kit I carry lights for taking photos of the food. They were essential for reading the menu. Everyone else at our table and the one next to us wanted to use it, too.
The menu was one of those current models in which the line between appetizers and entrees is not clearly drawn. Jude and his girlfriend Suzanne placed orders for some of their favorite starters. Among these was crab toast, in which the white lumps were tossed with a reddish-orange chili sauce.
[caption id="attachment_41720" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Mussels under two hand lights at Hinoki and The Bird.[/caption]
I was intrigued by the mussels, with their Thai-style green curry sauce. I ordered them with the intetion of having that as my entree. But I was the only one who was even thinking about the main course, and when the appetizers appeared so did my mussels.
But mussels have black shells. The bowl they were in was black. And the room, as I mentioned, was very dark. Slices of cauliflower were their usual white, but didn't help me find the opening part of the mussels. I tried my light, but one needs two hands to eat mussels, and I couldn't ask any of the others to hold my light while I ate, because they were eating too. I fumbled around with the mussels, eating about four or five, then gave up the task as impossible.
[caption id="attachment_41721" align="alignnone" width="436"]
Fried calamari.[/caption]
I asked for an order of fried calamari. This was easier to see, and since I didn't have to open any shells I managed to actually, you know, eat them.
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Black cod before the hinoki is burned over it.[/caption]
[caption id="attachment_41723" align="alignnone" width="480"]
The burning of the hinoki![/caption]
Now came the signature dish of the restaurant. it was easier to eat. Hinoki is a Japanese cypress that gives off a pleasant smokiness when burned. The server applied flame to a wide, very thin sheet of hinoki, rested it on top pf a black codfish, and let it burn for a few seconds. The glow let us see what was going on as the smoldering wood smoke penetrated the moist meat. This was pretty good, especially if you like black cod, which while a true cod is much more flavorful than the kind that comes from New England.
Now another appetizer: crispy chicken. "Crispy" = "deep-fried" in today's restaurant argot. And that's what this was. Chicken pounded out and deep fried, four pieces for $22.
Grilled salmon entree for MA, with a side order of okra and another of yams. True yams, which are not the same as sweet potatoes (not even distantly related), nor as good (starchy). Somebody got an order of brown rice.
Jude has been trying to impress me with his ability to find restaurants of note. He asked me what I thought. He is not seven anymore, so I was frank. "Not my kind of place," I said. This was obviously the truth, one he need to learn: ones tastes in everything change as time goes on. I might have liked Hinoki and The Bird when I was his age, just for the coolness of it. But maybe this means I still have a lesson to learn, myself.
[title type="h6"] Yesterday || Tomorrow[/title]
