I recently saw a new show on the Food Network called “Food Feuds”. I like it – I get it. It’s a simple premise: in towns all across the country there are passionate disagreements about “the best” – the best burger, the best fried chicken, the best barbecue ribs, the best ice cream. Disagreements of this kind can be fun, unlike political disagreements, which can be fraught with pain and suffering. On Food Feuds, chef Michael Symon heads to a town where rival food joints vie for supremacy; he listens to local fans make their case, samples the foods, and then declares a winner. But “the winner”, of course, is only that for some of the people, not all. And if Michael Symon came to LA and crowned In-N-Out Burger over Fatburger, I would think he was certifiable.
So let’s agree that good people can disagree.
My friend Dean, for example, is a very good person, a brilliant entrepreneur, patron of the arts and devoted family man, but when it comes to one of my favorite foods, Chinese soup dumplings, Dean and I are on opposite sides of the fence, not to mention the country.
I was lucky enough to snag a seat at the hallowed (and reservation
demented) Momofuku Ko in New York in early October because someone had
(oh my god!) cancelled and I was quick enough to grab the reservation.
For those of you not yet in the know, Ko is the premier flagship in
wunderkind David Chang’s gastronomic empire. In keeping with its
cutting edge food and service (the chefs, like sushi chefs, do the
serving but not the busing), Ko only allows you to make on-line
reservations. Just like Amazon.com, you need to open an on-line account
(something I had done about six months earlier) which allows you the
opportunity, and some would argue esteemed privilege, to make a
reservation. This system guarantees a degree of egalitarianism which,
as an attorney with a career dedicated to civil liberties, I really
should respect and appreciate. So even if your last name is DeNiro or
Gates, you (or your assistant) still have to compete with the masses in
making a mad digital dash to score a reservation. As a supreme
testament to Ko’s popularity and scrumptiousness, over the last year,
even as the echo of high-end restaurants slamming their doors shut
reverberated throughout Manhattan, Ko rarely had a night when it wasn’t
booked to capacity for at least a week in advance.
I've never been the type to have a candy drawer or crave chocolate. Growing up, I would rather have a savory snack than give myself a sugar rush. There was one sweet spoonful that sent me swooning, ice cream. But as my love for tea grew, the chilled scoop wasn't always the best companion to a hot cup.
I have always wanted to eat at Balthazar. After many years of
fruitlessly trying to go to Balthazar, I finally succeeded. Maybe it
was the way the restaurant teased me over these past few years that I
had become thoroughly intrigued: The restaurant’s Parisian frontage and
the crowds of diners seen through the windows beckoned me. Maybe it was
the promise of la vie Bohème. From afar Balthazar has that
je-ne-sais-quoi look, but from up close it seems just a bit faux and
overdone. I think the restaurant tries too hard to look authentic with
its crackled mirrors, dark paneling, and dim light fixtures.
Trips to New York City have become scarce over the years. (Maybe non-existent is a better description.)