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DOWNTOWN LA: THE LONELIEST OF BANDWAGONS

shane — Fri, 10 Jun 2011 21:51:01 +0000

The most rapidly evolving, culturally relevant and eclectically demo’d hood in this city and the one thing Downtown is still missing? Apparently, Mr. Rogers.

Once a ubiquitous wasteland of warehouses and homeless shelters has now turned into an arena of semi-sequestered bouts of impressive innovation. From art bunkers off Gallery Row, to start-up fashion boutiques and curated kitsch bars, it’s difficult to say that Downtown hasn’t made sufficient headway. But despite all of the urban edginess and trendy art hipsterdome that has become the centrifuge of Downtown’s lively culture, a surprisingly massive cluster of scoffing angelenos still find it lacking the presence of a certain, “wont-you-be-my-neighbor” sense of community. Yes, these cup-of-sugar-borrowing skeptics have condemned this concrete utopia as not only inhospitable, but hostile …and I’m kind of pissed.

To be fair, I can admit that unlike Los Feliz or Silver Lake, Downtown inherently revels in disorder. For one reason or another, it manages to breed a bit of tension and a mild discomfort to those unfamiliar with its bizarre cockles. Maybe it’s a result of the dayflies that constantly hover haphazardly over manholes and garbage bags? Or maybe it’s the predestined fate of downtown’s visitors who are almost always victims of the Great Parking Debacle (of course i’m speaking of the $4 an hour meters and the $20 parking structures)? Or maybe it’s because people are simply unprepared to meet the grimacing hustle and bustle of the fast paced business life –the financiers who traipse from office to taco stand or the Jewelry slingers who sit a perch their fold out lawn chairs spotting weary shopaholics from a block’s distance? While it’s certainly nothing like the chaos of New York, we Angelenos are easily intimated, and if we don’t have our warm California sun beating down on our shoulders and at least a 2-meter buffer zone between our Prada and the nearest bum, we aren’t happy.

But hold on, I feel like I’ve been disingenuous in recognizing the Angeleno’s ability to adapt. After brooding like a little girl who’s just been told that her Barbie townhouse doesn’t match up to Sunshine Malibu Château, I start to wonder what exactly it means to have community.

An image of whitewashed picket fencing, symmetrical block housing and pompadoured blondes walking an array of well-groomed Maltese, washes over me. While this is obviously a bi-product of watching way too many after school specials as a child –and is clearly a misrepresentation –it reminds me of a few things about “community” that I may have initially overlooked. Without getting too philosophical, it seems that a sense of community relies on an odd combination of three ingredients: security, comfort and cohesion. As it turns out, the value of feeling not only safe, but at ease and connected to those around you, is actually pretty outstanding. Argue if you will, but these seem to be the building blocks behind that obscure phrase that we call “Community.” And if this is actually the case, I think I concede. Downtown is lacking… but not for long.

Take Silver Lake for instance, the latest of the eastside’s burgeoning boroughs. What was once an area saddled with a peculiar combination of working class Latino families and the upwardly mobile gay community is now one the most desired areas to purchase real estate in the city. And we all know that wherever you’ll find sought after real estate, you’ll find an area ripe with community (don’t we?). But what is it about Silver Lake that is so conducive to producing this allusive force? What is it that seems to bind together such an eclectic mix of dwellers under this patriotic net of professed safety? The answer is simple… It’s Intelligentsia.

That’s right, I’m going to be making the gross generalization that all of Silver Lake’s sense of community can be attributed to one hipster laden, highbrow cup of coffee. While we all know this isn’t necessarily true, it’s hard not to see a correlation. Not that one came before the other, but the neighborhood brand that has developed around Silver Lake and the brand that Intelligentsia has thrived off of from day one, seemed to have grown on each other over the past few years. The casually aloof, yet carefully manufactured sense of cool that comes with that coincidentally quaffed hairdo. The precise balance of entrepreneurial business meets unsuspecting blasé. Their carefully selected rotation of trendy hipster folk music rightfully offset by classic rock and a hint of ironic west coast hip hop. Now I’m not saying that one caused the other, but the symbiotic relationship between Intelligentisa and the folks of Silver Lake seems akin to that of parasite and host. Something about the Intelligentsia brand –as unpleasant and unwelcoming as it may seem to outsiders –provides a cohesion between a neighborhood and it’s people. This is a relationship that downtown seems to be missing.

For instance, when you wake up with a hangover on Sunday morning after a night of whiskey hopping and you send out the mass text to the friends you left scattered about the city: COFFEE… No need to specify, they know where to meet. You have to schedule that looming first date from OkCupid and don’t want to lock yourself into some fancy dinner at Reservoir where you’ll be stuck for an hour and a half? Intelligentsia. You want to spend an afternoon alone, catching up on your journaling (you’re so emo)? No problem…Intelligentsia. This is what safety looks like. This is comfort, this is community.

Unfortunately it’s true that up until last month, Downtown has been lacking and lusting for a place like this; a daytime epicenter of unperturbed serenity where one can rally the troops, have a date or spend an afternoon pondering about life (again, emo). But that’s not to say there haven’t been attempts.

One has the option to cram ones self into the dark upper loft of Syrup Desserts where they attempt to create a cozy environment by shoving a few couches together and pilling board games on the surrounding walls. Unfortunately, the purple velvet couches that sink 3 feet when you sit makes it a little hard to find that sweet spot…especially when you’re surrounded by an overly aggressive display of Japanimation wall hangings. Then there’s Urth Café, which has the amenity of sunlight thanks to their nice outdoor patio. The downfall of the whole sun thing is that it’s a 10 minute drive to the outskirts of Downtown, not to mention the fact that it’s a bit too pricey and too healthy to fulfill our desires as a communal hub. Sorry… I guess the closest I’d say that we’ve got to a comradery compliant gathering place is Spring St. Bar. It’s a quiet space designed for communal seating, featuring two TVs for the big game, a selection of $5 sandwiches and an accompanying list of 30ish rotating micro-brews. If only it was open before 5pm on the weekdays we’d have our winner.

Syrupy confections, sprout burdened sandwiches and a whole barrage of craft beer later, I’m thoroughly pleased to introduce downtown’s new “you complete me” love affair, Coffee Bar –recently opened off of the corner of 6th and Spring St.

Not to get too creepy, but this place is hitting all of the right spots. First and foremost, their coffee is no joke. These guys aren’t brewing giant pots of vanilla hazelnut delight nor are they pouring arbitrarily composed shots of espresso. In fact, all of their coffee is single cup pour over, not to mention they’re slinging shots from the artisan espresso world’s new top dog $18,000 machine, The Slayer -which, by the way, is the first in LA. Like it’s Silver Lake colleagues, Coffee Bar is only operated by the most caffeinated of connoisseurs –you know them as the type of people who like to geek out over things like the World Barista Competition and post-modern foam art. For instance, they’ve enlisted the expertise of both acclaimed coffee consultant and all around bean badass, Jared Mockli (Café Logistics), and lead baritsa and professional brew bender,Doug Meils. But despite all of this meticulous precision, what makes Coffee Bar such a unique addition to downtown’s cultural landscape –and a prospective solution to our communal conundrum –isn’t their clout in the coffee world.

Owners Michael Leko and William Shamilan –also responsible for Downtown’s Library Bar, Spring St Bar and an upcoming pizzeria –were determined to create a space who’s coffee was competitive to that of Intelligentsia and La Mill, but not before ensuring that they could provide the downtown citizenry with a space that was conducive to comfort and enjoyment. Consider their relatively sprawling 2,000 square foot space -including up to 58 seats and an enclave patio that allows you to enjoy the delights of the outdoors without being bombarded by those pesky sewer flies or the supposedly “hostile” street stricken residents of Skid Row. Not only do wall outlets run aplenty (unlike Intelligentsia, these guys want you to hang out longer than your inevitably drained MacBook battery would allow), but they are all extremely approachable. From the greeting to the good bye, the barista tailors the whole experience to your needs without even hinting at snootiness –warning: you may be forced into joining an acappella rendition of a random 90’s love ballad. Depending on your desired experience and level of artisan coffee interest, they’ll help you navigate their rotating list of small batch roasters, whether that means finding a particularly big-bodied Bolivian or an esoterically inclined Ethiopian from Olympia. And if you’re interested in soliciting a bit of a bean education, there might even be talk of late afternoon coffee cuppings (think wine tasting for java fiends).

Ultimately, this is just another addition to the amalgam of emphatic off-beat downtown destinations and we can’t really expect just one place to change our world. What I will say is that like Silver Lake’s relationship with Intelligentsia, Coffee Bar has the potential to create that brand cohesion that Downtown so desperately needs. It is capable of providing that safety net that continues to generate an experience that others can be comfortable with. While those who reside in Downtown find it so easy to observe its inherent culture, trans Los Angeles nomads need this secure grounding (a home base, if you will) if they are to truly be able to experience this idiosyncratic cultural and the community that lies beneath it; the same one that many find so offensive and unsympathetic to begin with. So, I ask that you all take that leap of faith, get all new-agey and submerge yourself into its cavernous folds, find your sweet spot and experience Downtown as it was meant to be experienced…as a glorified clusterfuck.

Rating: Vigilante
Photo Credit: Rutger Blom

WINE BAR FOR DUMMIES: A GUIDE

shane — Tue, 01 Mar 2011 22:59:33 +0000

Is it just me, or is this wine bar thing just about as trendy as scrunchies during the first season of Full House? In the past 6 months we’ve been bombarded with a cluster of wine bars around Los Angeles, each standing under their self-proclaimed banner of accessibility: “making wine more comprehendible to the common layperson.” But are they? Or is this just something you say to fit in, like “no I don’t watch Full House, that box set was just a gag gift.” Well, i’m putting on my monocle and trench coat to investigate a few of LA’s newest patrons of the vine to see what about them actually simplifies the elaborately ornate wine drinking experience.

BODEGA WINE BAR

Bodega of Hollywood is the youngest of three siblings in the Bodega Wine Bar family (with one in Santa Monica and the other in Pasadena). It’s a very modern, very sleek, very artsy place to sip on some vino.

The Approach Bodega is of the mind that simplicity and minimization are key to positive, casual wine drinking.

The Tactics
Food: It’s simple: pizza, pita and hummus, tuna and crackers or grilled cheese. The point here is to focus on the flavor of the wine, not to overwhelm the palate with emulsified foie gras.
Glassware: Deconstructed. The glasses are stem-less. Don’t bother yourself with all the swirling and twirling, forget about the process and enjoy the wine.
Prices: Every one of their 24 wines (12 Red, 12 White) will be priced the same. You don’t have to navigate your way through a behemoth menu of unscrupulous varietals ranging from $8-18. Glasses are $9, carafes are $24 and bottles are $32.
The Scene: Despite the fact that it feels like you’re drinking in a spaceship -celestial lighting and excessively varnished furnishings -Bodega is constructed over a set of several communal tables that are actually pretty conducive to common chatter and friendly jest. Who wouldn’t like jesting in a spacecraft?

Appropriate Footwear: Simple…yes. Casual…no. It’s Hollywood people; grab some leather loafs or some red sole heels… moon boots if you still have them from the 80′s.

SWILL AUTOMATIC

An up-and-coming wine bar tucked beneath the Biscuit Lofts, Downtown, Swill Automatic will impose an automated wine pouring system where you’ll be served 1, 2 or 4 ounce pours with the swipe of a card. Imagine circular troughs that dispose around 58 wines from around the globe. It’s the reinvention of the watering hole…but for booze!

The Approach Opening sometime next month, Swill is all about variety, so toss monogamy to the wind and start dating around. The goal here is to prevent you from feeling tied to one particular varietal, vintage or region. Remember, it’s only cheating if you take the bottle home (which you can do thanks to their nifty retail program).

The Tactics

Wine Troughs: Well, we hope you’re a social butterfly because the majority of Swill will be comprised of a few communal tables surrounding a duo of filling stations designed to encourage a bit of that good ol’ fashioned, mix-n-mingle. Think of it as speed dating for the oenophile.

The Name: Swill wants to eliminate the notion of fancy pantsness so badly that they have chosen the one word in the wine lexicon that doesn’t stink of pretension. Among other things, Swill commonly denotes loud, sloppy drinking. Spit. Gruel. Mess. You get the picture.

Appropriate Footwear:At $1-$3 a pour you can pretty much get away with anything; barefoot, mandals, Crocs… I dont care if you’re not Asian, I know you own a pair.

COVELL

Opened by Café Stella bar man, Dustin Lancaster, and Matthew Kaner of Silverlake Wine, Covell in Los Feliz is the definitely the Mr. Rogers of the neighborhood.

The Approach Like our friendly cardigan wearing neighbor, these dudes are all about education. If you don’t know anythign about wine, be prepared to get schooled… maybe even in sing along format, “Won’t you be my neighbor?”

The Tactics

The Conversation: From the moment you walk into the rusticly-scruffed wine bar you’ll be engaged in a conversation of which the purpose is to tailor the perfect glass of wine to your liking. It starts with an adjective. You tell them one word that sounds like something you might be in the mood for. From there they will lead you through a small series of questions. At some point that little light clicks in their head (you’ll see it in their eyes), that’s when you know you’ve got them…or they’ve got you. Red or White? Earth or fruit? Tannins or acid? Pour. I like it. Done.

The Scene: You’ll find solace in the warm orange-hued walls beneath the arrangement of vintage cameras and newspaper collages. It’s the type of place you pop into for a glass of Montepulciano after work and end up not leaving until you realize you’ve missed The Daily Show and will have to settle for Colbert, ugh.

The Crowd: Your hip neighbor, Los Feliz aboding adultees and that guy with the beard from Mad Men checking out next week’s script at the far end of the bar.

Appropriate Footwear: Don’t kid yourselves, it’s the eastside. Try Chucks, Keds or any choice desert boot.

In the world of wine, where vintages and varietals commingle and reproduce more often than the cast of Jersey Shore (I’m not happy about this joke, either), where the never-not-confusing jumble of regions and appellations produce grapes that are made even more bewildering by capricious weather patterns and pock-marked climates, where complex flavor profiles featuring obscure hints of sour skittle and gasoline (unleaded, of course) are derived with what seems to be more subjectivity than fact…these ambitious little wine vigilantes have performed quite a stirring feat by bringing light to one of the more baffling subjects of the gastronomical world in which we live. So take a break from the craft beer and the $12 cocktails because you were never more badass than that time you slid up to the bar next to the babelicious sophisticate and ordered up a bottle of 07 Cortese Cesanese… 2 glasses.

Some Other Favs:
Mignon
Cork
Domaine LA
Vintage Enoteca

FOOD GENTRIFICATION

shane — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 18:19:34 +0000

From Roach-Coach to I Heart Fruit Cart

I think we’re all privy to the fact that this whole food truck phase was sorta derived from the Hispanic/Latino culture. These street vendors have been posted on the corners of our skyscraper dense districts for years, slinging some pretty awesome tacos. This being LA, someone eventually came along and realized what a profitable and lucrative business opportunity these mobile eateries offered and had the where-with-all to capitalize, spawning quite a robust industry. Now, a few years later, our streets are bustling with trucks catering to all different styles of food –Vietnamese, Japanese, Southern –very few of which remain to be run by their Latino ancestors.

No I’m not selling you a sob story, it’s not like they had a paten on to-go dining (remember Go-Gurt, those people had to be white). In fact, despite losing this taco race, the Latino culture still had something to fall back on, something that no whities could ever hi-jack, the Mexican Fruit Cart. You know the ones, always haphazard, precariously trembling down the disheveled sidewalks of Korea Town or perched at street corners in the scorching heat of the summer providing commuters with a cheap and refreshing (not to mention healthy) treat as they make their traffic littered drive to Downtown.

Well, those days of authenticity are gone. I introduce to you the I Heart Fruit Cart cart. It’s shiny, colorful and has a cutsy name that rhymes.

This cart –which you can find on the streets of Venice (Abbot Kinney) –sells all organic fruit from local farmers, hand picked and packed up in a cute little plastic container (100% recyclable) sealed with a heart shaped sticker every morning. Yuuummmy. Don’t worry, they’ve still got their lime and chile toppings if you want make it… ethnic. Owners, April and Brad Kanfer (stop judging, I know you’ve met plenty of Latino Aprils and Brads in your life…right?), are New York natives and have had family in the service industry for over 20 years. I know what you’re thinking, and no, these are hard working people, in fact, April is a “celebrity wardrobe stylist,” says so right on the web site. Brad is probably a Chef (I bet he cuts the fruit).

Yes, it’s twice the price. Yes, it’s sooo LA. Yes, their rainbow colored font and the set of strawberries on their logo look like a pair of balls. But hell, I don’t think they’re actually stealing anyone’s business. They’ll stick around Abbot Kinney selling their over priced (probably delicious) fruit to people who have never even seen a Mexican person before, let alone make it to Korea Town. Good fruit is good fruit.

BEER FLOAT SHOWDOWN AT VERDUGO BAR

shane — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 19:32:09 +0000

The Beer float. King of all that is bitter sweet in my life, I adore you. But I can’t help to wonder… under what possible circumstance could this magnificent spectacle of hybridization have been conceived? Was it born of a happy accident after little Jimmy mistakenly popped a not so “rooty” rootbeer into his vanilla ice cream? Perhaps it finds its origins as a malicious frat boy prank gone horribly right. Or was it, maybe, the articulate touch of a seasoned expert, as well versed in the suds n’ hops as in slow-churned delights. I like to think it’s the latter.

Introducing, Ladies and Gents, Verdugo Bar (in their never-ending onslaught of culinary driven events) and Food GPS’Beer Float Showdown II, this Sunday.

Now, we all know about Golden State’s lovely concoction of Old Rasputin Stout and Brown Bread ice cream or MILK’s St. Bernardus Abt 12 with coffee toffee . But all that just won’t suffice anymore. Drop in around 5:30 and you’ll find contenders Boneyard Bistro of Sherman Oaks, the chaps over at Ladyface Alehouse in Agora Hills, Simmzy’s Pub in Manhattan Beach and the charming crew of Tony’s Darts Away in Burbank, each in their respective corners.

I don’t want you to take this lightly, be forewarned of the seriousness at play. You might just find the little Mrs. Paige Reilly of TDA brooding in her corner, nefariously seething over buckets of an ambiguously viscid substance (a mixture of ice cream and death, probably) as she attempts to stifle her grueling appetite for victory at any cost… Or, maybe she’ll just be preparing her treats in a giddy delight as she occasionally snacks on some of the awesome food truck tasties provided by Mandoline Grill and The Manilla Machine. Who’s to say?

That being said, tickets are $25 pre-sale and $30 at the door. 50% of proceeds go toward Share our Strength, which has been working to eradicate childhood hunger in the U.S. and Canada since 1988.

So drop on by, it’s for a good cause and you’ll get to sample some of LA’s most innovative alcoholic confections…even if they do kill you.

SWOOP TICKETS HERE

UNDERCOVER BROTHERS

shane — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 19:55:18 +0000

While I certainly love and appreciate the monuments of our city’s food scene, I think we all know that Los Angeles has got so much more to offer than the same 4 places that seem to be frequented by 85% of the LA population. That being said, it’s time for you to veer from your standard stomping grounds in pursuit of a little adventure. Here are a few of LA’s most buzzing restaurants and their lesser-known but completely swap worthy counter parts.

Pizzeria Mozza –> Osteria La Buca

We all know how GD difficult it is to get a reservation at Pizzeria Mozza. You either call a week ahead or wait in line for an hour and a half for a spot at their pizza bar. While I will say that their pizzas are mostly unrivaled here in LA, Osteria La Buca (just a few blocks down Melrose) is certainly a lofty contender –cheaper too. The menu is very traditional –you’ll find no leek, clam or finnochiona (fennel seed enhanced salami), sorry fancy pants– but with a moon beckoning skylight, fireplace and an upstairs dining room, it’s not a bad change of pace from Mozza’s modern Hollywood chic.

The Swap: Instead of a Mozza pie, grab Osteria La Buca’s Jijo pizza with mozzerella, speck (in the family of prosciutto), walnuts and truffle oil.

Check out your substitutes for Pink’s, Fathers Office, Rivera and Intelligentsia…

Pink’s Hot Dogs –> Slaw Dogs

Pink’s is basically an LA relic, a monument to be revered. But how often can you wait in line for 45 minutes on the corner of La Brea and Melrose for a flimsy-ass grease soaked wiener without being mistaken for one of the local prostitutes? Instead, steer eastward on the 110 and head out to Pasadena’s (sorta) new dog den, Slaw Dogs. It’s a tiny storefront with sizeable seating and a wall full of thematically constructed hot dogs.

The Swap: The Green Monster (I swear this used to be called the Hulk…copyright issues?) is slathered in chipotle mayo, roasted green chilies, pepperjack cheese and spicy garlic salsa.

Fathers Office –> The Burger Kitchen

If I have to hear one more UCLA student tell me that the only place worth getting a burger is “this really cool spot in Culver City called The Fathers Office” I’m going to patty-slap a bitch. I understand that it was revolutionary for its time, but it paved the way for tons of other gourmet burgers to frolic and prosper. Let the children wait in line outside the tiny restaurant, it may as well be called the Interns Cubicle, and go check out The Burger Kitchen –a 4 month old burger joint opened by father and son, Alan and Daniel Saffron. As opposed to FO’s limited menu, The Burger Kitchen offers 22 varietals of geographically patented patties.

The Swap: Try the Eiffel Tower with blue cheese, lemon fennel and mustard grain sauce, or The Moroccan Bazaar, a lamb patty dressed with chopped cilantro, garlic and mint yogurt.

Rivera –> Mo Chica

John Sedlar’s Rivera, near LA Live Downtown, is a latin American landmark for LA foodies. Always bustling, it’s often hard to lock down a few seats to enjoy their trademark, though fairly traditional, Bar Playa Ceviche. If you don’t have the time (or the wallet) to settle in for a lengthy 8 course dinner but have a hankering for some acid cooked fish, head west and seek out Mo Chica, a tiny Peruvian joint 3 blocks east of USC. Don’t be fooled by the janky strip mall or the “order-at-the-counter” service or the fact that you’ve got to use a token to get into the restroom, Mo Chica offers a refreshing taste on the vast palate of Peruvian cuisine.

The Swap: Their Ceviche is based in sea bass, mixed with fresh hominy, seaweed, sweet potato and corn nuts? WTF? It’s awesome.

Intelligentsia –> Coffee Commissary

Intelligentsia is great, and if I’m in the mood to see one of the Jonas Brothers over a 5 dollar cup of joe, then I’m totally in. But if I don’t have a flannel handy, or say if I happen to leave my New Yorker on the toilet at home, then I’m rolling out to the Coffee Commissary –opened in April on the corner of Fairfax and Waring. While they didn’t win a design award for their industrial savvy spacial superiority, the space is modern and clean but without that whole “don’t step on the carpet” experience you remember from your childhood.

The Swap: Try the Vanilla Latte with house made vanilla syrup (complete with small flakes of vanilla bean) … and one of their Lasagna cupcakes from Heirloom L.A.

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LAST CALL: RAUL YRASTORZA OF LAS PERLAS IS NOT THAT COOL

admin — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 21:01:34 +0000

Swooped from LA Times via PEDEN + MUNK

Raul Yrastorza, the flippant bar manager at Las Perlas – a Disney-meets-dirty Mexico décor’d mezcal bar –is taking this whole cocktail craze with a grain of salt. The oversized hoody wearing, three day scruff sporting dude seems to come at this perniciously trendy cocktail scene with a refreshingly innovative perspective, one that seems to be feigning in the world of the over manufactured bar going experience.

Around midnight last Tuesday, I found myself in a carved out hideaway beneath the Sante Fe lofts Downtown, just a sombrero’s toss from Skid Row. Acting as some sort of sullied safehouse from pretension, Las Perlas, from its hokey wall murals and pastel flavored bar shelves to its kitschy antique vases and cocktail lists hand scribbled on a torn sheet of cardboard, paces a kind of frivolity that manages to protect the “unkemptness” of it all.

Up until this last year, Yrastorza, who was involved in a series of tequila friendly locales, was branded by overly ambitious journalists as LA’s first Mezcalero (a play on the Spanish word for cowboy and the word Mezcal). After the El Dorado Cantina in Brentwood, where he paired Mexican wines with sweet-corn tamales, was sold to Sam Nazarian (becoming the first Katsuya outpost), he made his way over to the Mexican wrestling themed tequila bar in Mid-City, El Carmen, where he spent the next few years until he was offered a corporate six-figured gig running the flashy LA nightclub, Ivar. Quite a shift to say the least. The next eight years of his life were dedicated to peddling vodka redbulls and breaking up drug initiated rumbles outside, “I hated the person I was when I was working there, the late nights, the cocky bartenders, dealing with all the drugged out assholes…it’s not a great scene to be a part of.” After 30 years in the business he decided to throw in the towel, “I was tired of it, people in this business just take themselves too seriously. There’s no such thing as a fucking Tequila Sommelier and I don’t need to be the first.”

As hackneyed as it may sound, Yrastorza just isn’t like the rest of his kind, he was never the guy who needed to be in the spotlight; making drinks he enjoyed was always enough for him. Having both worked and palled around with the (somewhat notorious) gang of nightlife bigshots, Raul, 45, speaks of his compatriots with more of a brotherly love than any abashed cynicism. He says of Marcos Tello, bartender at The Varnish just across the street, “He’s a great guy and he knows his shit and does his job well, but he’s about selling himself, not his drink; and that effects the overall experience. At some point something happened where bartenders stopped being bartenders and started being celebrities.”

Call it jaded, but Yrastorza was just about fed up with all of it –the scene, the people, the egos –and welcomed an early retirement to focus on his passion for photography (something he explored between the hours of 4am-4pm, before and after work). After taking 10 months out of the business to relax and take care of a few athletic induced hernias he ran into an old friend who mentioned that Cedd Moses –the nightlife maven of 213 Downtown LA –was looking for someone to lead his new ‘south of the border’ themed bar across from Cole’s diner, Downtown. After nearly a year of purging (I told you he was tainted), Raul decided that the opportunity was too good to let pass by, “Ya, I understood the danger of getting involved in all of this again, but i’ve always wanted my own place and I figured this was my time to get behind the reigns and do it the right way, to show these kids how a bar is meant to be run [laughs].” And that’s exactly what he did.

When I settle up to the over-crowded bar and ask Mary Louise –a tall & thin, straight banged fashionista, handpicked by Raul himself –for her bartending history (expecting to hear a lengthy recitation) she says, “Oh, I’ve never worked behind a bar before. Raul wanted to train me on his own, I guess.” It so happens that part of his post-pretense plan to dissolve any highfalutin vibe was to start from scratch and craft his own breed of bar person, and I think it might have worked. As opposed to hiring some renowned LA mixologists with a tacit understanding of the businesses “celebrityness,” to helm the bar, Raul wanted to create an experience that was more focused around the drink than the person serving it… and to this degree he has succeeded (though that’s not to say he didn’t have some help creating the list…eh um Julian Cox). Sure maybe she can’t make you a Sazerac or a Harvy Wallbanger, but she certainly makes an amazing Poblano Escobar (muddled poblano chilies, pineapple and cumin); and while she may seem a bit intimidating at first, you realize that if you threaten to steal one of her grapefruits you might just get her to smile (did I mention the makeshift produce counter that envelopes the bartop?).

Yrastorza’s fun-forward attitude doesn’t just manifest in his staff or interior inclinations, you’ll find it peeking out from his cocktail list too. He’s manufactured his menu based off of some of Mexico’s most ghettoist cultural traditions. Everything from the Chingaderra –an anejo and mezcal based drink topped with an apple foam and black strap molasses– whose name can be loosely translated to mean “piece of shit,” to the Mexican Fruit Cart –a cocktail that mimics the infamous bag-o-fruit sold on street corners by actually placing radish, cantaloupe, pineapple and cucumber at its base. And “yes,” he says, “I’m serving it with a spork.”

His favorite drink to tipple is the Paloma, which he describes as the “poor man’s margarita,” a not-so-articulate combination of “lime juice, grapefruit soda and any tequila you can get your hands on,” though he happens to use Siete Leguas Repesado, which (like 30% of his other booze) he buys out of the trunk of a car.

After the last call of an unquestionably busy Tuesday night, the bar is now nearly empty, a few stragglers are finishing up a sloppy game of pool while the barback is busy scrubbing residual balsamic reductions from the counter top. He’s perched at the edge of a tattered booth and just after finishing up the last of his drink and a heartfelt rambling on how he believes that the cultural segregation of Los Angeles could be “mended” by a few well intended social havens, he grabs the bottom of his sweatshirt and lifts it to his eyes, “I’m not taking any of this too seriously, but I am taking it seriously…and I don’t want anybody to be too serious about it, you know?” I don’t. But while I’m not exactly sure how to interpret his meandering sentence, I can certainly feel it. And while I can see that he is quite passionate about the topic at hand, it’d be wrong of me to suggest that that was the reason he’d been tearing up … turns out that he spent the last hour trying to wipe away a few tenacious grains of hibiscus-infused salt from his eye. The war wounds of a seasoned vet.

Rating: Vigilante

twitter.com/LAsupperhero

Photo’s by Brian Faini

HOLY SHIT THAT’S A BUNCH OF ANALOGIES

admin — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 21:40:41 +0000

“Across the street from Disney Hall, shiny as the crooked grin on the mug of a gin-sozzled dame, First & Hope is a maximalist’s cool evening out, a restaurant-slash–supper club with a Blue Velvety jazz lounge at its heart, a bar that splits the difference between Busby Berkeley glitz and downtown disco cool, bathed in a purplish glow that recalls the shimmer of footlights reflected in a tight, sequined dress. Does the Flash-intensive Web site give the costume designer and the bartender as much play as it does the chef? It does. Is the menu of proto-Southern tavern food programmed as carefully as a Golden Globes acceptance speech?”
-Jonathan Gold

Honestly, i’m all for one or two well designed artifices, but amidst the hyphens, dashes and superfluous italicized phrases, this is just a jumble of obscurities. Haha. Let’s try and do 1st&Hope a favor and break this down.

‘shiny as the crooked grin on the mug of a gin-sozzled dame’

First off, sozzle (apparently) is the act of wetting or splashing about especially by a sluttish woman. And Dame carries the connotation of a women of “knightly ranking.” Contradiction? Possibly. Moving on. ‘Mug’ is probably referring to this whorey female knight’s face, and apparently she is wearing a crooked grin, I assume because of the gin. So, that being said, 1st&Hope is as “reflecting of light” as, this here described woman’s, smile.

‘a bar that splits the difference between Busby Berkeley glitz and downtown disco cool’

Busby Berkeley was, via wikipedia, a musical choreographer/director in the 30’s, known for his geometric patterns and excessive use of showgirls in hiskaleidoscopic performances, most well known for his production, “Gold Diggers of 1933.” So, the bar at 1st&Hope -manned by Aidan Demarest -renders the effect of something that lands somewhere between that, and a disco. Sure paints a picture, don’t it? erh…

‘bathed in a purplish glow that recalls the shimmer of footlights reflected in a tight, sequined dress’

Apparently, this bar is also purple. But not just any purple. The same purple that is reminiscent of footlights -the lights that line the bottom of a stage- that are being manifested in some (dame’s?) dress. That, is lovely.

‘Is the menu of proto-Southern tavern food programmed as carefully as a Golden Globes acceptance speech?’

Finally, it seems that Mr.Gold feels as if the menu was put together with the same thought and detail as a carefully contrived acceptance speech given by a winner of the Hollywood Foreign Press Association’s most prestegious award.

Wow, what a mouth full, and that was the just the first paragraph. Jonathan, you are an amazing writer and I know it’s hard, but sometimes sacrificing logic and semantics for a bad ass sentence, just isn’t worth it. Kudos to 1st&Hope for such an exquisitely verbose review.

Jonathan Gold: Supper Hero

Clever Ways to Get Drunk

shane — Sun, 30 May 2010 08:00:32 +0000

Beer Floats, Alcoholic Shakes and liquor infused tea’s oh my!

I’m always in search for a sneaky way to get really drunk. It kind of reminds me of my Uncle Don at holiday family get togethers. You’d never catch that guy with a drink all night long but come time to serve dinner he’d be curled up underneath the Christmas tree filling the watering pot with urine. It’s a gift, and one that I’d like to share with you. Here are a few surefire ways to get you through some dull and uncomfortable times with a little alcholic support.

The Business Lunch- This guys been trying to pitch to you for the last 2 months and you’re damn near out of excuses. Suggest this Fairfax food stop; The Golden State’s Beer Float offers a mysteriously opaque fusion of Rasputen Stout (12%) and vanilla ice cream ($8). He’ll think you’re a bit odd for ordering a rootbeer float at a business meeting, but you’ll just smile and nod… because you’re drunk. 426 Fairfax. Mid-City. thegoldenstatecafe.com

Sip with your Sponsor- After the AA meeting stroll down the street to BLD’sMilkshake Madness for an after-meeting aperitif. Treat your sponsor to one of Pastry Chef, Mariah Swan’s liquored up milkshakes (offered the last Sunday of every month, $9-15). Before you know it you’ll be back to beating your spouse and destroying lifelong friendships (wow, that joke was in bad taste). 7450 Beverly Blvd. West Hollywood. BLDrestaurant.com

Nana’s Tea- It’s Sunday and you’ve been putting off a visit from grandma for months. Invite her over to SLS for High Tea and crumpets. The Patisserie offers a wide range of liquor infused Tea and a few alcoholic nick knack snacks($8ish). By the time Nana finishes telling you about her hip replacement you’ll be too drunk to care that she’s cleaned her teeth with your $200 Christian Audigier hanky. 465 La Cienega. West Hollywood. TheBazaar.com

Supper Ranking: Hero. Supper Hero. Vigilante. Villain. Nemesis. Arch Nemesis. Supper Villain.

CART FOR A CAUSE: PUTTING KOGI TO SHAME

shane — Sat, 22 May 2010 19:02:26 +0000

The volunteer based organization, St. Vincent’s Meals on Wheels –known for cooking, packaging and delivering food to the homeless and disabled –has partnered up with pretty much all of LA’s greatest chefs to create the ultimate food truck, Cart for a Cause. Launching March 23^rd and running through the Fall, this food truck will be mobbing our streets every Tuesday manned by a different Chef, each of whom will prepare 3 meals (each under $10) with all proceeds going to St. Vincent’s.

Personally, I think this is the future of all great Chefs. They’re going to realize that they don’t need a whole bunch of hooplah and a giant restaurant to do what they love. These fine-dining fixers are going to take to the streets, to the PEOPLE themselves! It’s going to be like a midlife crises for the culinary gifted. Just watch, Walter Manzke already left Church & State and has been rumored to be getting a truck together.

Chefs Confirmed:

Nobu Matsuhisa (Nobu)

Walter Manzke (Formerly of Church & State)

Susan Feniger (Street)

Sal Marino (Il Grano)

Eric Greenspan (The Foundry)

Joseph Centeno (The Lazy Ox Canteen)

Jean Francois Meteigner (LC Bistro)

Vinny Dotolo & Jon Shook (Animal)

Michael Cimarusti (Providence)

Stay tuned with us, we’ll be following the truck around every week posting mini-blurbs about each chefs creations.

Follow them on twitter: twitter.com/CartForACause

And me: twitter.com/TheSupperHero

MAC N’ CHEEZA: IF CHIPOTLE HAD NOODLES

shane — Sun, 16 May 2010 19:08:24 +0000

Chef Larkin and his pal/business partner/life partner(?) Joshua McBride from the Soul Cajun spot, Larkin’s Joint in Eagle Rock, have just come up with what might be the most profitable business scheme known to the LA food industry. Ya that’s right, taco trucks got nothin’ on this.

Mac N’ Cheeza –a tiny 400 sq ft space in the ground level of the Chapman building – is about to make them a whole lot of coin for the following reasons…

1. There is no kitchen. They will prepare all of the pasta and toppings back at Larkin’s during their everyday prep work and send the leftovers on over in catering bins. This means no paying for a new stove or having to streamline ventilation through the building. This means a whole lot less of that god-awful health permitting. This means that when I get hungry over at the office, I can walk by skinny ass across the street and buy a huge tub of hot wing suffused mac and cheese, all to myself. For god sakes they are basically one step up from those guys you see selling magazines and shrink wrapped shoes out of what appears to be a building-front closet!

2. There are no booths. You know what that means? Order your food and get the hell out of my restaurant. This means that not only do they have a huge turnover rate, they don’t have to hire servers, either.

3. I know what you’re thinking, but how does the food stay warm all day? Well, they basically ripped off Quiznos and got one of those nifty toaster oven that passes your tin of carbs right on through. Perfect.

If this is all too confusing I’ll really lay it out there for you. Can you handle another list? Ok, good.

I.) You find the tiny little shop on the corner of Broadway and 8th.

II.) You walk in and assess the line situation. If the line is too long you suck it up and wait anyway.

III.) While unlike the little Mexican women behind the counter at Chipotle, these dudes are very friendly and will not yell at you if you are not adequately prepared, but if I’m there and you’re holding up the line, I’ll get my friends to beat you up. So figure out what you want.

IV.) Choose a size- baby mac, mama mac, daddy mac, or mac daddy.

V.) Choose a pasta: Traditional or Brown Rice (if you choose brown rice than you’re an idiot).

VI.) Choose your cheese

VII.) Choose from toppings like chorizo, bbq chicken, sausage or hotwing. They also have vegetables if you want to pretend to be healthy.

VIII.) Have a seat and wait as your noodles are warmed to crusty perfection.

IX.) Take your food, smile and thank the man that has given you this gift.

Mac n’ Cheeza Opens for Artwalk Tomorrow, so try not to eat all day and see if you can’t eat a Daddy Mac to yourself.

Hours: 11AM – 11PM Sunday through Thursday, and 11AM – 2AM Friday and Saturday.

Rating: Hero. Supper Hero. Vigilante. Villain. Nemesis. Arch Nemesis. Supper Villain.