On the way back to my place from the comedy show the other night, my Friend Who Puts The A in LA swung by a taco truck just off the 101 Freeway for a late night snack.
Two taco trucks were parked in the front of an auto parts store. At first we pulled up to one, and then changing his mind, A moved spots and we pulled up alongside the El Matador taco truck. Apparently it is the awesome truck, while the other the less than awesome one.
As we got out of the car, A asked how my Spanish was and I almost did a doggy roll over with glee at the chance to break out some Spanish. While eyeing the menu which I didn’t understand, I asked A how many I should order and if there was anything that he recommended. He said the Al Pastor and Carnitas were good. So I went with that and added a Carne Asado to the order when the man asked me what I wanted.
He asked if I wanted chilli, and I think both he and A thought I didn’t understand, but instead I was just thinking if I did and decided no (which is probably a good thing for a first time taco truck experience). Then I got a bit confused as the server asked really quickly if I wanted cebolla o cilantro. Although I know that cebolla is onion, I had forgotten it, so he repeated it in English and I said no to the onion and yes to the cilantro (which is American for coriander).
The tiny tacos were great. The meat was so delicious and I didn’t regret the no onion or chilli as the coriander sauce was spicy enough. So as a first visit, it was amazing. I’ll be going back there for more tiny tacos and more Spanish practice!
Monday night is dollar taco night at Malo, a funky restaurant on Sunset Boulevard.
Our first Monday night in LA was spent here, gorging on too many tacos and with my buddies imbibing much sangria. Tonight was my second visit, but Gin and J were back for a third time (three Mondays out of six is pretty good going) as it is a great place to take visiting friends.
With the tacos on special from $1 to $5 each it also makes for a great bargain. Especially when you only need three after making your way through the complimentary corn chips. Personally I prefer the hard tacos. The tortilla of the soft ones has a funny taste to it, nothing major, but they taste mass machine-made, which is unfortunately also how many of the tortillas come when in Mexico.
So tonight, with three tacos, a couple of cokes and a great night in a trendy restaurant, I came away having only spent $12 (including tip) and with a full stomach.
Gin and J cooked up dinner for a few friends tonight and one of the starters was endamame beans.
I have never eaten endamame beans before. Or at least not consciously. So I picked one out of the bowl and put it in my mouth and began to chew. And chew, and chew. I was left with bean strings and husks in my mouth and tried to politely pull them out and put them in my serviette. Needless to say I didn’t go back for seconds.
It wasn’t until later, observing our six-year-old guest eating them, that I realised you just pop the bean out of the husk and into your mouth and then put the shell in the other container set aside for such purposes. You don’t eat them like snow peas.
My neighbour had offered to provide tips and insights on the area, so I took him up on the offer and invited him to coffee.
I explained my pickiness over coffee and how I’d been fairly disappointed with what I’d found so far, and that I was keen to find a great coffee in LA. As he is a former barista, he was a good person to ask. However, I’d already been to top two he was suggesting, LA Mill and Intelligentsia.
Instead, we rolled on down to Silverlake Coffee which I had passed a number of times on my way to the supermarket. I had wondered what it would be like as from the outside it has a little front yard surrounded by greenery and little metal tables for two with umbrellas. Inside was a completely different vibe. As soon as I stepped in, I saw leather couches and then it looked like I’d walked into an office. All the tables were occupied with people typing at a computer. Apparently they have free wi-fi, and it seems that a lot of people take advantage of it.
My coffee was lovely. I’d say about a 9 out of 10, although the interesting conversation probably boosted it another half a point or so. I’ll be going back there again, maybe when my new MacBook arrives, so I can sit down there with my shiny new toy, sip coffee and hang out with the artsy kids.
We had a little gathering of people at our new apartment today, so I decided to whip up a pavlova.
One of the first priorities after I moved to LA was to get all the equipment and ingredients for a making a pavlova. I brought with me my kitchen scales, some measuring spoons, baking trays and a spatula. High on the list of new items to purchase was a good quality hand-mixer, something better than my overheating, screaming one at home. One of my favourite stores in the US, Bed, Bath & Beyond, stocks a 9 speed KitchenAid electric beater with four different attachments. I was attracted to both the brand name and the sparkly mocha colour, so one of those babies came home with me after shopping for essentials like pillows and coathangers.
Love the KitchenAid beaters
I realised last night that the glass mixing bowl we got as part of a Pyrex set at Walmart was too small for making a double mixture pavlova, so after picking up yet another desk for the office this morning, J and I stopped by Kmart, which Karen-the-GPS pronounces kuh-mart. Kmart USA is not as good as Kmart Australia, and I could only find a relatively shallow 3.8L glass mixing bowl, which I mumbled something about how it would do the job for now. I also picked up a sieve to sift the cornflour.
I had looked around Ralph’s supermarket for all the ingredients and was again surprised at the lack of options and their not-quite-the-sameness to Australia:
Caster sugar (called Superfine Baking Sugar here) only had one option which came in a 1.89L milk carton
Cornflour is called cornstarch here
Whipping cream comes in milk cartons and when whipped still manages to have somewhat of a foam cream from a can texture and taste
Vanilla extract here is far more thick and syrupy than our vanilla essence
Thanks to the ConvertPad app on my phone, I found out that the equivalent temperature for cooking my pavlova was 300 degrees Fahrenheit.
The best looking pav I've seen sans cream
So with all this brought, bought and figured out, I set up the beaters with the whisk attachment and started the process. I was down to the last bit of sugar to mix in and dissolve when I had a phone call, so I put down the beaters for awhile. When I got back to the kitchen, my previously perky pavlova peaks had morphed into a flat, runny mixture. I tried to beat some life back into it, but it just wasn’t quite the usual consistency, so I spooned it onto the baking tray and hoped for the best.
I don’t know whether it was the new consistency or my hoping for the best, but the best looking pavlova I’ve ever made came out of the oven. Whilst there were cracks in it, as is the norm, the top hadn’t sunken. It really threw me. I didn’t know what to do. I peeked in between the cracks to see if there was any of the marshmallowy meringue in there and saw that under the top crust was a big huge gap of air. So after some hemming and hawing, I chose to pick up the pav, put it on a presentation platter and then break the crust in order to make a hollow for the cream. I was so surprised when I could pick it up in two hands without it falling apart, as is usually the case.
Lots of marshmallow!
After adding the cream and then decorating with strawberries, kiwi and a few blueberries, it was ready for enjoyment and compliment. Both of which were heaped on and thrown about in generous sizes.
To my discerning pavlova palate, there were a few things I need to try and fix. I think the marshmallowy bit was a bit eggy and the cream not quite dense enough. But they were only small observations (made by me) and give me something to work on as I set out to become the Pavlova Queen of LA.
Dinner tonight was what has come to be a standard SoCal meal for us, Mexican.
We are loving the Mexican food and are eating lots of it. So we picked a little restaurant on Newport Street in Ocean Beach, a suburb of San Diego that, you guessed it, is on the beach.
We settled in to a homely booth and deliberated over all the options. Only after we’d ordered did we take notice of the rack holding four bottles of the same wine, a South Eastern Australian wine.
It turned out to be a 2009 shiraz from Andrew Peace Wines in Victoria who I had come across in a previous job. Given California’s wine industry, I hadn’t thought Aussie wines would make much of an impact, let alone end up in a little family-run Mexican restaurant.
Today we met our new apartment in the trendy suburb Silver Lake.
I almost had a heart attack when I saw the hill that our place is perched on top of. Virtually either side of the apartment block are steep drops. I’m talking a San Francisco style hill that is so steep I seriously doubt my ability to ride a bike down it without careering into a car and catapulting over the fence of the dog park at the bottom of the street. On the plus side, we are going to have the best looking legs and butts ever.
The owner of the apartment is still in the process of moving out, so despite the clutter, mess and dirty carpets, we liked what we saw. The kitchen tiles had been pulled up and will be replaced, and the loft space was fabulous, if a bit hot from the direct sunshine, although that can be fixed with the air con on. The best thing though was the big window like the arch window on Playschool. It has amazing views out across LA.
After writing a check (or as we would call it a cheque) where I almost thought I’d written it incorrectly because I’ve never had my own personal cheques to write, we handed over our security deposit (known in Australia as a bond). Then we set off to explore our new area.
The reservoir has a running track around it that looks good. I guess we’ll be working up to that knowing that the climb home will sap the last ounces of our energy.
Getting feisty outside the Red Lion
Then we found the Red Lion Pub. It is apparently one of the best bars in LA and it looks like a typical pub from back home, except that it’s themed German style. They even had a beer garden and free chilli. I think it’s going to become our local.
Next up we moved to Malo, a groovy bar restaurant that has $1 tacos on a Monday night and is located in the Sunset Junction area. We gorged on all sorts of different tacos and the girls had sangria that came served out of big glass canisters that sat on the bar. After a tasteless soda, lime and bitters, I ordered a lemonade thinking a Sprite would come out. I was rapt when it was real lemonade and I think that’s going to become my US equivalent of lemon, lime and bitters.
The feeling of discovery and wonder is so amazing. I love marvelling at things and constantly going ‘wow’. I hope I never forget this feeling because it makes you so alive and so appreciative to be where you are.
I am dumbfounded by the amount of packaging they have here in America, so much for the reducing part of reduce, reuse, recycle.
It was my first foray in the supermarket today. The supermarket in Target that is. It was a pretty quick shop, and I am looking forward to when I can take a long leisurely stroll in the supermarket, moving up and down every aisle with cool plastic trolleys that can be pushed from any angle except with the quirk that they don’t like to reverse.
A brief observation is that everything comes over-packaged. The tissue boxes have a little plastic wrap covering the cardboard opening, but they have longer openings and no plastic ‘curtains’ on the inside. I don’ t know that the external wraps would make it any more hygienic, but I guess that’s the look they’re going for.
I was shocked in the fresh produce aisle when I came across a sweet potato completely sealed in a plastic case. I was so surprised I held it high and waved it over my head, screeching in my Australian accent “Look! They even wrap individual sweet potatoes!” Followed quickly by “Oh, it is microwaveable. No way!” You just need to stab that thing with a fork and throw it in the microwave. Snacky snack.
I’m not the world’s most environmentally friendly person (I’ll admit to loving long hot showers) but I am definitely going to beat the average American as I try to find products without all the bells and whistles packaging.
Tasty treat:
Frickles – fried crumbed pickles. Yummo. Can be found at Birds Cafe on Franklin Avenue.
Surprises:
No one has appreciated my accent yet. Maybe I just need to talk more. Or louder.
Thai was the order of the day for dinner, but we had to pick up some special guests from their hotel to join us.
We cruised along Sunset Boulevard and picked up half the boys from Melbourne band Goodbye Motel before making our way to Thailand Plaza in Hollywood for some food. If you are in the mood for Thai food, this little strip is THE place to go for a mind-boggling number of Thai restaurants backed up wall-to-wall. Only in Thailand could you find this many Thai restaurants in dodgy-curry run-to-the-dunny distance.
The food was not dodgy, so please don’t think that. Rather it was a bar-gain at $21 a pop for a mix of Thai favourites. I wish I’d paid attention to the ordering because my favourite dish was a chicken one and unfortunately I can never really remember what Thai dishes I’ve ordered before unless they are a basic green curry or Pad Thai. The portions weren’t as huge as I have come to expect in America, with not a lot of leftovers, so that made me feel good that not a lot went to waste.
We followed this up with a drink at the Dresden, a bar famous for two things, the ancient couple (Marty and Elayne) banging out the jazz tunes and for being a location in the 1996 movie Swingers. Now I haven’t seen Swingers before but it stars Vince Vaughn and Heather Graham. I’m not really sure I need to see it now after the guys were repeating vast slabs of dialogue from the film, but I’ll put it on the list anyway.
The Dresden in Los Feliz is this gorgeous old-school bar with round, low backed booths, soft-lighted chandeliers, small club tables with red vinyl chairs on office wheels and a wall of frosted glass with line drawings in them. There was such a wide range of people in this rather small lounge; old people in their 80’s, young people, hipsters, hippies, jocks and every combination in between.
Not long after we’d arrived they asked for patrons to come up to them with song requests written on a napkin. Motel Tom took up the challenge and wrote a song name on a napkin and took it up to them. Watching from the other side of the bar, we saw Marty’s response – he took the napkin, folded it in half and wiped his mouth with it. What a ruse!
So the Dresden was pretty sweet. I’d go there again, and this time hope for a little curved booth.
Dating update:
Well, no dates requested yet, but it’s early days. Being out on the town with 4 guys isn’t really conducive to looking single. Luckily the girls arrive tomorrow to even up the sexes.
Surprise:
It’s not hard to open a bank account. Thank you Bank of America for being so nice and helpful. Thank you Bank of America for giving my buddy Ricky $25 for the referral and me $25 for taking up the referral.
Last night was seriously in my top 10 nights ever.
To celebrate my leaving Mildura, I hosted a party for my A-listers and it totally rocked my world. I still can’t wipe the smile off my face. I mean, I normally have a smile on my face, but this is one of those big, stupid, cheesy grins that gives your face major wrinkles.
It was the perfect combination of family, friends and food mixed with dance-time tunes and laughs all around.
I just want to give a MASSIVE shout out to the 60 or so people who came along and made my night. I also want to thank the gate-crashers, because no A-list party is complete without gate-crashers!
Thanks also to Mario and co at Stefano’s Cafe for supplying the fab venue and even fabber food.
There are so many amazing people in my Mildura life, it will be sad to leave their company but with the kind of send off they gave me, they’ll never leave my thoughts.
a little cameo 