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. 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 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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THE ALEXANDRIA HOTEL
A HISTORY

Built in 1906 off of 5th and Spring as a luxury hotel, the Alexandria became residential affordable housing for the elderly and disabled in the early 90’s. In 2006, Ruben Islas purchased the building and began making some renovations that were ummm, a little sketchy. The Times reports:

“The complaint alleges that Islas’ Amerland Group, which specializes in building affordable and senior housing, and the managing partners they hired have ‘systematically and intentionally worked to remove the long-term tenants of the Alexandria and replace them with non-elderly, non-disabled and non-African American tenants.”

According to that article in 2007, he was unavailable to comment to the LA Times. Three years later, I can’t get him to shut up.

Learn more about the series, DEBUNKING DOWNTOWN

THE MAN BEHIND
THE MARTINI

“I am a latino man who grew up with nothing. I built an industry in contracting, married my beautiful wife and started a family. We had an enormous house on the edge of La Jolla with beachfront property, just living the life. Then, one day I turned to my wife and said ‘Honey, we are moving to Downtown Los Angeles.’ You know what she said? I support you my husband, I support you.”

Ok… Now, I know this seems like some hyperbolized dramatization from an after school special about laying trust in loved ones, but these words actually came from the mouth of owner/contractor/media deemed “Slumlord,” Ruben Islas. Ruben bought the Alexandria in 2006 after he made a trip to Downtown LA in 2005 when he learned that his “long, lost uncle” had died on the streets of Skid Row. He recounts the story for me, and boy am I in for a treat.

It was a touching tale of epiphany and heartache –his uncle had died on the streets after spending much of his life (unbeknownst to the family) as a homeless man, “ I remember standing at the exact spot that he had died,” he says, starring up toward the sky in a smoky room, vodka martini in hand –not his first. “I could FEEL it all around me, the sadness, the absence of hope,” he takes a long pause (I can’t tell whether he is immersed in excruciating emotion or if he just can’t remember his next line), “ Then I look up the street –it was a very cloudy day –and do you know what I saw?” I didn’t, but darn was I eager. He leans over the gin slicked bar and whispers to me, “The Alexandria Hotel, surrounded by light.” You could imagine my chills. He pulled back quickly and straightened up (to about as tall as a man with his, uh globular stature might), “And from THAT moment… I KNEW… that I…would buy this building…I would make a DIFFERENCE,” he vows as he pounds out the iambic pentameter (or whatever) with his fists on the bar top; a glistening tear in his eye as he slurps down the last olive.

Lads and Ladies, this is Ruben Islas, and despite how ridiculous his stories may seem –surely the result of a bad PR agent who watched too much 7^th Heaven –he is actually doing some questionably cool things. Here is your guide to the Alexandria hotel. You decide.

THE GUIDE

The Gorbals                                                                                                                                                    

Sparkling Features  a Scottish/Jewish eatery by the counter-cultured Top Chef winner, Ilan Hall (who churns out a floozy of “innovative” culinary exploits), was the Alexandria’s first turn to the trendy. The Gorbals is a cafeteria like casual “gastropub” where you can grab anything from a great bacon burger to a bone marrow and sweet oxtail buns with turnip pickles.

Make Moves Head here on an Artwalk Thursday for some lively atmosphere –complete with circus clowns, a band, and maybe a guy on stilts –and an ethnically cross breaded meal (yes, the bacon-wrapped matzoh balls are a subversive hit).

Navigate It Enter through a hidden corridor off of Spring St. (closer to 5^th). It will lead you into a lobby on which the other side you’ll find the front door to the restaurant.

The Mezz                                                                                                                 

Sparkling Features Above its (The Gorbals) ceiling, in a small mezzanine space that hovers over the 104-year-old lobby is a low roofed jazz club called The Mezz –serving up local bands like The Makers or BB Chung King ,Thursday-Saturday.

Make Moves While this probably isn’t the place you’d bring a date –remember watching your friends band play in someone’s garage in high school? –with no cover, cheap drinks and good music, this should be your go-to on a mellow downtown night with the boys. Grab a burger to-go from The Gorbals downstairs and snag a spot at a table-top (there’s always an open seat).

Navigate It Follow my directions to The Gorbals but instead of going through the door veer right and head up the stairs. On the second floor you’ll see a set of blacked double doors and a makeshift sign reading “The Mezz.”

Two Bits                                                                                                         

Sparkling Features a fresh produce market that will sell veggies and fruit amongst other common day necessities (think of it as a link between Whole Foods and 7/11).

Make Moves Besides the fact that it’s extremely convenient for locals (don’t have to trek to Ralphs), non residents can head here to gather up the fixings for a picnic at Pershing Square (a blocks walk). Grab some artisanal wine and cheese, a few japanese pears and a loaf of bread and you’re good to go.

Navigate It a 1.000 square foot space on 5^th between Broadway and Spring St. (coming soon).

Coronados                                                                                                     

Sparkling Features I never thought I’d say this, but Mexican food takes a turn toward health. They say they’ll be serving modern Mexican menos the grease. They’ll also be serving fresh fruit cocktails and hand-crafted Mexican pastries.

Make Moves You’ll want to check it out when they host the opening of their monthly rotating gallery showcasing local artists. 

Navigate It North Eastern side of the building off of 5th between Broadway and Spring St. (coming soon).

Photos by Brian Faini and Rynofoto

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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

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Photo’s by Brian Faini

“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

The Doheny –a romping pompous members only cocktail lounge “hidden” somewhere downtown –opened in early 2008 and came with something like a $6,000 dollar-a-year price tag.  After the hype died down and people realized that the clientele consisted of old men and “cool guy” employees from Cedd’s other establishments (7 Grand, Broadway Bar, Golden Gopher), the place began to depreciate in value and the fees followed in suit. The latest quote was somewhere around $2,550. Obviously heading the clear direction of… south, the boys over at 213 Downtown –Cedd Moses’s nightlife co. –have scrapped the douche den (commonly referred to amidst the blogosphere) for a “new” rum bar concept, Cana.

The best part about Cana is that it still requires a membership fee of $20 a year. Now, I’m not exactly savvy to marketing and I’m sure this is some kind of gimmick, but humor me for a minute. To me, this is a bit of a slap in the face to members who paid the originally ridiculous amount. They are being reimbursed for their already paid annual fee, with credits on drink specials and a “lifetime” membership to Cana. Hurray.

Lets work this out, say the average member of the Doheny was around 43 (like I said, these dudes were old). Now, the average life expectancy for a man, because let’s be honest the place was a sausage fest, is like 77 years. Assuming I, as a member, am going to want to go to this place for the rest of my life (doubtful), that leaves me with 34 years to, umm enjoy myself? Thereby allotting a grand total of my initial membership fees of 1,870, unaccounted for. Quite the profit for Mr. Moses. And that’s not considering the high probability of this place closing in the next 3 years.

Now, consider this Horatio… It seems to me that the $20 fee was enacted for the sole purpose to justify the fact that the 213 crew is swooping up a whole bunch of money. I mean, we have to give the members something right, so we’ll waive a $20 fee for the rest of your life. Somehow, this might just bring 213 –who just opened another bar, Las Perlas, in their financially ‘not-so-abundant’ period –back on top of the game. Were they on their way out? Was this a quick fix? Shit, maybe I am good at marketing. That, or I watch too much Mad Men.

Nothing says class like a Mai Tai! 

Follow me on twitter: twitter.com/LAsupperhero

Supper Rating: Nemesis 

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.

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

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.

Having lived in LA for a grand total of 3 ¾ months, I already know much more about it than you (<—my credentials). It’s a dastardly concoction of tragically dramatic hipsters, altruistic artists, pompously arrogant Westsiders (yes all of you) and a barrage of other archetypes that I’m too lazy to identify, each of whom are inevitably fast tracked to do none other than bolster the already lavish scene of pish-posh and dilly dallie that continually pervade the city… and I kind of like it. With cunning people crafting clever ideas, the potential for an innovative dining experience is all too evident in our city, to say the least. As gloss finished-fondant cupcakes and flamboyantly tinted macaroons begin to tatter the shelves of our shops, it’s hard to not want to be apart of the gastronomical phenomena that has hitherto been so muffled. And so it begins.

In the last few years the LA spotlight has careened away from rockstars and celebrities toward restaurants, their chefs and the art of gastronomy. No longer do we obsess over Britney’s latest debacles or the fact that Lindsey Lohan has somehow managed to atrophy this much without being hospitalized for the nth time. It’s no longer rewarding to sit and watch E! or to read Variety Magazine when you could be spending your time sweeping through food blogs or catching up on the last three issues of  the Weekly. These devices have finally lost their clout and I’m not ashamed to announce “good riddance.” Of late, we have taken to gossiping over the latest activity in the Patina Group empire or what type of truffles are being shaved over our pizza at Pizzeria Mozza. All of the sudden, a world about flavors and textures becomes an ego-centric avenue to the rising LA culturist and we have become absolutely smitten with food.

Having usurped the throne of prevalence in the Los Angeles culture canon during the wake (or tumult, arguably) of our down trodden economy, the restaurant vocation has been thrust forth upon the LA career charts wish list, settling just a few seats behind “The Next Ari Gold Super Agent” or “Film Director/Fashion Designer.” With new restaurants treating “open interviews” like casting calls, requiring that headshots accompany resumes, some might actually consider mounting atop a wobbly dining room table to spout off a carefully chosen Arthur Miller monologue in hopes to set themselves apart from the 300 other actors looking on with an undisturbed monotony. With the opportunity to meet and interact with some of the ingenious minds behind this food-de-force, who doesn’t want to scrape up a piece of the unwarranted glamour that seems to inevitably manifests in the limelight of this burgeoning industry. It’s the quick-and-easy to living the LA life and we’re tired of waiting.

With the scent of glory and allure fresh on our noses, we fruitlessly grope along trying to keep up with the interminable collection of restaurants that sporadically spawn throughout the city by the fortnight. Scraping the hallow tin of a can of tuna or regretfully composing yet another peanut butter and jelly sandwich just to insufficiently curb our gastro-famine, we starving artists somehow manage to scrounge together an extra 50 dollars a week so we can finally sate our appetite with the latest SBE installment or the edgiest gastro pub. “No guys I can’t go out tonight, I had dinner last Tuesday at Church & State,” we say, casually declining a trip to the movies in hopes to ensure that we have enough money to go to the new brasserie next week.

In spite of all of this excitement and fervor, one can’t help but to be a little woeful at what is actually happening here. Is any of this recently generated interest genuine or is this just another plight to attain the LA lifestyle that most angelenos yearn for? Unsophisticated palates across the city are unappreciatively experiencing some of the most creative combinations of food on this earth, all the while using ungodly, God-like powers, divined unto by Yelp, to blast their mostly thoughtless opinions across the pages of the web. As they delve into a Brick Roasted Duck and some unbeknownst tuber settled over a muddled Venetian root at the new Lazy Ox Canteen, they articulate a hyperbolized gasp of ecstasy after each bite, if only to create the impression of utter rapture, when in reality they will stop off at Carl’s Jr. on the way home to grab a Big Carl for $1.99. (who hasn’t?)

Surely this is the case, but I tend to ask myself, Is it so wrong that food is the new occult celebrity? Is it so bad that people are beginning to take an interest in LA’s gastronomic aptitude whether it be genuine or simply a means to an end? After all, everyone needs something to attach to. What makes a hipster a hipster if he doesn’t rock a tastefully ironic mustache; and what makes a badass rock n’ roll chick if she doesn’t lace her lips with a blood red lipstick or chain smoke every time she faces an awkward situation? And you certainly can’t call yourself a Westsider if you don’t wear glittered gold stilettos at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. I guess it’s just the way we do it. We are attracted to something and want to embrace it, on every level. We want to assimilate to it, and make it our life. We become so obsessed with it that we write a 1,000 word comprehensive diatribe about it.

Someone once told me that being a professional just means that you’ve pretended to be an expert long enough for people to forget that you’re actually just full of shit. So, maybe the best we can do is to continue to read, continue to dine, continue to experience and to continue to fake it long enough to salvage a bit of this acclaimed lifestyle along the way.

The Thirsty Crow –the new bourbon bar from the dudes who brought you Bigfoot Lodge and The Little Cave in Highland Park -is the latest in the spirit based bar trend. Set to open April 21 in the former Stinker’s Truck Stop space off Sunset in Silverlake, the menu will be focused on small-batch American Bourbons. Don’t expect any talk of cocktail construction or mixology quotients here, they are planning on keeping things plain and simple with a selection of “Classics” like your Old Fashions, Mint Juleps or Sazeracs amongst a varied menu of hued-over Manhattans (think dark caramel, orange marmalade and mole spice). With a name derived from an old Aesop’s childrens tale about a Crow whose only goal in life is to siphon whisky out of a barrel, this place is clearly off to a good start. 

Hero’s Quest: Every Sunday from 9-close they’ll be hosting Bourbon education classes where they’ll most likely teach us why we are bad people for mixing these heedfully crafted spirits with soda. Bummer. Go learn something.

Supper Rating: Hero