Bread. I love it, especially when it’s well made. But I freely admit that I try to avoid it. I’m of a certain age and weight when the dangers of too much free carb styling can take a toll. But how hard is that to do now? It’s really hard with all the neighborhood bakeries opening all over town. Yesterday I checked out Bread Lounge in DTLA. Tucked away on the southeast corner of 7th and Santa Fe the location is an indication of just how much DTLA is thriving.
I walked in on a Friday during late lunchtime and it was filled with people dining in and taking out. If you park in the back and walk through to the front the first display you see is packed with all manner of packaged sables, biscotti and other little nibbles.
The production area is on display to your right and there is bread everywhere from large boules and batards to skinny crusty baguettes and a good selection of whole grain and white sturdy sandwich breads. And of course there are the small coffee cakes and viennoiserie that we’ve come to expect.
The other day, my daughter Hannah and I stopped by Surfas. It always surprises me when she wants to go there, since their prepared food is, lets just say..um..esoteric. She ordered the 72 layer biscuit with ham and cheese and drank a Bubble Up. Oh to be 13, 5’5” and weigh 98 lbs. After that, as we crossed over into the store, a fellow cradling a basket of hot baguettes narrowly missed running into me as he made his way to his station or should I say ‘kingdom’, because this guy rules!
I've studied wine for a decade and have worked on my palate,
expanding my personal taste to include styles from all over the world.
Red, white, sparkling, dessert. I've tried them all. Yet, when it came
to food, I still treated most meals as the means to an end – which was
drinking great wine. So the fact that I've dined at the Petrossian Cafe
twice in 3 weeks is more than a little out of character. It wasn't
until I started following a bunch of LA foodies this past spring on
Twitter that I realized how limited my experience with food really was.
I was embarrassed by the long list of delicacies that I had never eaten
and was actually afraid to put in my mouth. So, I started making a
concentrated effort to eat outside my comfort zone and jump on the
foodie bandwagon. Within the last six months I've eaten Wellfleet
oysters on the half shell (a must when on Cape Cod), Escargot a La Bourguignonne
(anything smothered in garlic and butter tastes good) and a Scotch Egg
(a deep-fried delight).
I'm pretty sure LA is the only place that it can be hard to find a restaurant marked by a gigantic neon sign. That's because in a city that's made up of a string of strip malls, neon signs are easy to overlook. And this one is tucked behind the parking lot of an unassuming boba place. It reads 'park' above an arrow pointing one way and 'drink' above an arrow pointing the other way, towards Beer Belly.
Since
our very first visit to Pizzeria Mozza (Christmas Eve 2006), Peter and
I have continuously wished for two things: That Mozza would offer a
Pizza-to-go / Delivery service, and that Nancy Silverton would make a
pizza with chicken liver, guanciale and burrata. If you love Mozza’s
Chicken Liver Bruschetta, then you’d understand how amazing this dream
pie