More of Saturday, February 20, 2016.
A Chaotic Brunch.
Since my last visit with Jude in Los Angeles back in August, he has been raving about a restaurant called Republique. Last time, we even went there after finishing lunch somewhere else, so interesting he thought was the architecture of the place. This trip, he wants to go there for brunch, Republique's most celebrated meal. The place is primarily a bakery, but it uses many of its bakeries to make sandwiches and egg dishes, some of which are rather ambitious. In the evening, the menu shifts into a largely Italian style.
The three of us plus the baby in a carriage get into a line behind about a dozen people. This is speedy service compared with the block-long queue that leads to the restaurant by the time we leave. We order an assortment of items and share them. We agree that the best item is something called a shakshuka. This is a North African egg dish (it's also found in some Jewish cookbooks) baked in a cast-iron pan with tomatoes, peppers and onions. The best-sounding dish is mushroom toast, served on portabello mushrooms with ham, spinach, and hollandaise. Not as good as the mental image I had of it. The ricotta toast with hazelnuts and honey made an interesting ending.
[caption id="attachment_50741" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Shakshuka at Republique In Los Angeles.[/caption]
Jude says that the reason for the line while the place has many open tables is that the kitchen doesn't turn out the platters as quickly as the tables open up. I'd add the word "chaos" in here somewhere. Two of the three items I ordered did not make it to the table until I went back to the head of the line and inquired about them. Which brought one of the two items, and occasioned another visit to the head of the line.
[caption id="attachment_50742" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Pastries at Republique.[/caption]
However, Jude is right in extolling how cool the place looks.
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Sunday, February 21, 2016.
The Stamina Of A Three-Month-Old.
Jude, Suzanne and Jackson attend a weekly seminar about how to be better parents of tiny babies. I don't understand their need for this. They both seem to have it down pat. But they find it worthwhile, and this is California, so they go.
In the ninety minutes, I take a welcome two-mile walk down Wilshire Boulevard in the direction of Santa Monica. Lots of interesting architecture and restaurants that way.
I stop at a Rite-Aid. I neglected to pack a blood pressure medication I must take daily. Yesterday I tried to get an emergency supply at Walgreens, from which I get prescriptions at home. They tell me they can't give me even two doses because I have no refills left. The reason for that, I tell them, is that I get ninety pills at a time, and all of those are in my medicine cabinet at home. My record shows that I have taken this pill for many years. But this doesn't move the pharmacist.
The Rite-Aid guy says that he can't help me, either, because he has no records of me at all. But he is sympathetic, and tells me I should try a different Walgreens two blocks away. I explain my situation to that Walgreens' pharmacist, who nods, asks my date of birth and name, pulls me up on his screen, and asks me to wait a couple of minutes. He pages me in the time it take to buy a bottle of water, then hands me a bottle containing three pills. On the house, yet. He says that it's a national policy of Walgreens to do this. Good policy!
I meet up with Jude and Suzanne just as their seminar is ending. Jude needs to return some awnings to a store in the neighborhood. He and Suzanne and the contractor are having a hard time working out the details of their window coverings.
I suggest that we have lunch at a a cool-looking place I saw while strolling up Wilshire Boulevard. Ingo's Tasty Diner is a new restaurant in a classic diner space that has been in business since the 1940s. The premises and the menu look good to the three adults. (Jackson has no opinion, not yet being a consumer of solid foods.)
[caption id="attachment_50740" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Tasty Diner on Wilshire Blvd.[/caption]
The Tasty Diner turns out to be not only tasty but fun, thanks to the personalities of the waitress and the hostess. We have a Cobb salad (universal in California), a hamburger with fresh-cut fries, huevos rancheros with a very peppery sauce, and a slice of cheesecake. Much of this came from the brunch menu, which was in the throes of converting into the dinner menu.
We are then off to yet another event: a birthday party for Ty, a friend of Jude and Suzanne. I know him myself, because he joined us for dinner at the Pelican Club two days before Jude and Suzanne were married. Jude fits in one more stop to get a bottle of Champagne as a gift.
Jackson's stamina through all these events is amazing, but at the wine store he breaks down at a moment when bringing the formula to bear is difficult. There is some stress, but as soon as he starts in on the bottle he is happy again. He has inherited the genes of his parents, both of whom are intense, on-the-go types. He sleeps through most of the party.
Where there is a lot of food, as if we needed that. Thick pizzas and a few other nibbles. Most of the attendees are in film and media, some in political p.r. At the end of the party, they play pin the tail on the donkey. It's the first time I've done that since I was about six.
The sun has set by the time we are home. Jackson moves into his end-of day routine of bathing and soothing play. In seconds, he is gone.
Ingo's Tasty Diner. Santa Monica, CA: 1213 Wilshire Blvd. 310-395-4646.
The three of us plus the baby in a carriage get into a line behind about a dozen people. This is speedy service compared with the block-long queue that leads to the restaurant by the time we leave. We order an assortment of items and share them. We agree that the best item is something called a shakshuka. This is a North African egg dish (it's also found in some Jewish cookbooks) baked in a cast-iron pan with tomatoes, peppers and onions. The best-sounding dish is mushroom toast, served on portabello mushrooms with ham, spinach, and hollandaise. Not as good as the mental image I had of it. The ricotta toast with hazelnuts and honey made an interesting ending.
[caption id="attachment_50741" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Shakshuka at Republique In Los Angeles.[/caption]
Jude says that the reason for the line while the place has many open tables is that the kitchen doesn't turn out the platters as quickly as the tables open up. I'd add the word "chaos" in here somewhere. Two of the three items I ordered did not make it to the table until I went back to the head of the line and inquired about them. Which brought one of the two items, and occasioned another visit to the head of the line.
[caption id="attachment_50742" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Pastries at Republique.[/caption]
However, Jude is right in extolling how cool the place looks.
[divider type=""]
Tasty Diner on Wilshire Blvd.[/caption]
The Tasty Diner turns out to be not only tasty but fun, thanks to the personalities of the waitress and the hostess. We have a Cobb salad (universal in California), a hamburger with fresh-cut fries, huevos rancheros with a very peppery sauce, and a slice of cheesecake. Much of this came from the brunch menu, which was in the throes of converting into the dinner menu.
We are then off to yet another event: a birthday party for Ty, a friend of Jude and Suzanne. I know him myself, because he joined us for dinner at the Pelican Club two days before Jude and Suzanne were married. Jude fits in one more stop to get a bottle of Champagne as a gift.
Jackson's stamina through all these events is amazing, but at the wine store he breaks down at a moment when bringing the formula to bear is difficult. There is some stress, but as soon as he starts in on the bottle he is happy again. He has inherited the genes of his parents, both of whom are intense, on-the-go types. He sleeps through most of the party.
Where there is a lot of food, as if we needed that. Thick pizzas and a few other nibbles. Most of the attendees are in film and media, some in political p.r. At the end of the party, they play pin the tail on the donkey. It's the first time I've done that since I was about six.
The sun has set by the time we are home. Jackson moves into his end-of day routine of bathing and soothing play. In seconds, he is gone.
