Diary 3/17/14. The End Of The Line.

Written by Tom Fitzmorris March 26, 2014 13:01 in

[title type="h5"]Monday, March 17, 2014.[/title] The Sunset Limited has a non-linear schedule. It leaves both ends of its New Orleans-Los Angeles run at strange times, and takes long siestas in some of its stations--notably San Antonio. For the train to be there at a time other than three in the morning in both directions, the Sunset leaves New Orleans early in the morning, and from Los Angeles late in the evening. That still makes San Antonio service less than convenient, but better than before. That solution created a new problem: the westbound train arrives in L.A. at 5:35 a.m. Amtrak says that passengers in the sleeping cars are welcome to loll around in their beds until six-thirty. In practice, a combination of announcements on the in-room speaker and the bumping around of the passengers and attendants make snoozing nearly impossible. [caption id="attachment_41690" align="alignleft" width="133"]Los Angeles Union Station, a block from the first street in the city. Los Angeles Union Station, a block from the first street in the city.[/caption]The most convincing evidence of the train's true wishes was the first announcement we heard, from a speaker inside our compartment, at half-past five: "Los Angeles. This is Los Angeles. The end of the line." Period. Over and out. Especially out. We were on the platform by six. The Hertz desk would not open until seven. We waited in the Metropolitan Lounge--Amtrak's equivalent of the first-class waiting areas in airports. The coffee machine in there wasn't working, but they did have tea and muffins. We didn't really need any of that. Mary Ann had a plan. It's a long drive from Union Station to Santa Monica, where we had reservations to stay at the Fairmont Miramar Hotel on the beach. But our room was hours from being ready. And Mary Ann was eager for breakfast on solid ground. Specifically, at Bottega Louie, which she says is her favorite restaurant anywhere. Louie is a casual Italian restaurant whose menu covers a vast amount of territory: pastries, cheeses, salumi, pizza, pasta, and a comprehensive selection of trattoria-style Italian cookery. LosAngeles2014-LouieLogoJude discovered Bottega Louie in 2008, when he moved to downtown Los Angeles. (Can that really be almost six years ago?) The eatery was a few blocks from his apartment, and he soon found himself there often--sometimes more than once a day. That enthusiasm rubbed off easily onto his mother. [caption id="attachment_41695" align="alignleft" width="300"]Louie's beignet. Louie's beignet.[/caption]At Bottega Louie, we launched an overloaded program of eating during the next five days. All we came to Louie for was a pastry and coffee. I wound up eating an excellent dish of poached eggs atop smoked salmon atop a potato pancake. Preceded by a beautiful, light, blueberry-filled beignet. The waiter--who had worked in New Orleans for awhile but had no idea who I was--suggested I also try the hazelnut-filled beignet. It was equally elegant and delightful. [caption id="attachment_41692" align="alignnone" width="480"]A thrilled customer at Bottega Louie. A thrilled customer at Bottega Louie.[/caption] I am loyal to the traditional French Market beignets, but nothing is immune to competition from better versions of past dishes. This is a recipe we would do well to incorporate into the New Orleans beignet market. Jude is having a busy week, wrapping up the final shots for a movie in Thousand Oaks. He's the line producer--the guy who coordinates the logistics of everything. Today, that involved the procurement of a helicopter with seats for seven people and a Golden Retriever. [caption id="attachment_41693" align="alignnone" width="480"]Beef and lamb wrap at Spitz in Studio City. Beef and lamb wrap at Spitz in Studio City.[/caption] He took time off from that juggling act to join us for lunch. Spitz is billed as a Middle Eastern café with a menu more exotic than most. Or so he said. It seemed to me to be a basic shawarma and gyros place. I'm glad I had an excuse (the breakfast I'd already eaten) for not finishing the wrap sandwich. Jude went back to work, and we drove to the hotel. Mary Ann was crowing about the deal she and her travel-agent niece cut cut for us. It started with free breakfast. Then $100 off the price of dinner in the Fairmont's vaunted Fig restaurant. It wasn't until dinnertime that we discovered that Fig would not be open the only night we would be in residence at the hotel. [caption id="attachment_41694" align="alignnone" width="480"]Pacific Ocean, as seen from the Fairmont Miramar Hotel. Pacific Ocean, as seen from the Fairmont Miramar Hotel.[/caption] We had no other complaints about the Marimar. Its grounds were gorgeous. The Pacific Ocean and a broad beach were right across the street. The neighborhood was riddled with shops, restaurants, and other cool places. Exploring it all made for a pleasant evening. We checked out many inviting restaurants (many of which were high-end chains). But we were still too full from the double lunch earlier to have anything but a light supper. Which is what we sat down for once we returned to the hotel. Under the torch-like heaters on the Marimar's patio, I had a plate of charcuterie and a beet salad. (I saw but did not fall for the bacon-wrapped bacon. Yes.) Mary Ann ordered the thick hamburger and fries, cursing herself out for eating that much on a day in which we had already overeaten. The hotel was very comfortable, though, and she resolved we would return to the Marimar again. [title type="h6"] Yesterday || Tomorrow[/title]