Fritto Misto

I am a genius.

Last year, Valentine’s Day was hell. Since The Man and I usually prefer to celebrate the pooky lovefest session over the weekend to allow adequate sleep-innage to recover, the actual eve of Valentines I had made plans with Bunnie to attend a movie screening. OMG, NEVER. A-friggin-GAIN. It took me OVER TWO HOURS to get from Santa Monica to Century City (yes, you read that right, TWO HOURS), by which time we had missed the screening entirely and I was nearly in tears from being stuck in the car barely moving for so long and crammed in on all sides by cars and the only thing to do was go to the Century Towers Hotel and drink wine at the bar and feel underdressed. Traffic is just so bloody heinously awful around here on Valentines Day! I love that there are that many romantic people in the world, but Jebus, do you all have to be OUT IN YOUR CAR between 6:00 and 8:30 p.m. for the love of Caltrans????

So this year, I decided, heyall naw, Homey won’t play that. I think I would rather throw myself under a bus than sit in that hellaciousness again. But since we will be in Chico visiting Grammy, doing our lovefest over the weekend wasn’t an option either. And we would still have to suffer with the eleventy bajillion other people on the road whilst trying in vain to get home.

So a week before V-Day, I called up Fritto Misto which is conveniently close to our offices, and made a reservation for 6:00. I told Derek we needed to brush up on our Italian cuisine in preparation for our trip to Italy. I don’t know if he was buying it, but it sounds good, right?

I have to tell you what we had since I still kinda can’t even believe how good it was and I want to remember it always. It was one of those set Valentine’s Day Menu thingies, but it was very reasonable for all the food included, and you could still choose from a selection of salads and entrees. And I have eaten here before and knew it was good, but dang, that night it was sooooooo good, I’m getting into a lather over it as I type. Here is what we had:

Bottle of sparkling wine
Salad (Lovemuffin got the ceasar, I got the misto)
Bruschetta (loved it, though I have to say, the one I make at home is better)
Lobster ravioli with chardonnay lemon sauce (I know, it’s like I’m talking dirty to you, right?)
Lamb loin marinated 5-7 days in cabernet pesto sauce (sweet heavens above, so tender and full of flavor) served over a bed of spinach linguini
Muscat served with chocolate-dipped biscotti
Crème brulee (wasn’t on the V-day menu, but our gracious host was kind enough to accommodate my begging and whining and threw it in to shut me up)

So we sat and savored every bite while the rest of the world sat in their cars fuming and honking at each other and Derek patiently listened to me repeat over and over again what a friggin’ genius I am but I mean really, people. That was some serious geniosity going on there, right? It doesn’t take that much yoga savvy to pull off the ol’ Pat Oneself On The Back For Ruling Valentine’s Day pose.

Fritto Misto
601 Colorado Avenue
Santa Monica, CA 90401
(310) 458-2829

L'Artiste Patisserie

We have driven past this place every freaking day on our way to work as long as we have lived in our humble home, and it is one of those adorable-looking, relaxing, patio-having, delicious-tasty-treat-making type places that always makes me give a wistful glance out the passenger window as we pass by and go “Sigh! How do I sign up to get a gig where I can go to some great yoga class in the morning, have a facial, then go hang and drink coffee and eat delicate French pastries until the afternoon at this adorable little French place whilst reading some swanky publication like W or French Vogue or something like that? What do these people do for money who get to do this on a weekday morning like they have nothing to do and all day to do it? Besides hooking? Could somebody please let me in on it, ‘cause I would really like to sign up.”

Depending on the day of the week, this kvetching could continue all the way past Mulholland.

Anyhoo, Mom and I had plans to go to breakfast on Saturday, so we decided to walk The Big Brown Dog and the Portly Pug to this adorable little place and give it a try. It does have an outdoor patio area, so dog situating is easy to do.

Right away, we were struck by how friendly and helpful everybody there is. You order your food at the counter and they bring it out to you when it’s ready. The coffee (choice of medium or dark roast, in addition to the usual cappuccinos, lattes, espressos, etc.) was served in those giant cup and saucer rigs and was serious quality joe, grown locally in North Hollywood, I was told by our server.

Breakfast is served all day, and includes things like baked-on-the-premises croissant sandwiches, prosciutto and havarti omelettes, and orange-vanilla brioche french toast, hello? Are you drooling yet? Geez! I opted for the scrambled egg and cheese croissant, while Mom had an omelette. Both were absolutely fresh and delicious and large (had to take half my croissant home and it supplied a very easy and tasty breakfast en route to Big Bear the next day). Our giant coffee cups were never empty and there was never a shortage of smiley-happy people coming by to give some lovies to the attention whores-- I mean four-legged furry creatures--who live with me. Mom and I shared a blueberry tart thingy, which wasn’t too sweet, but was not sweet enough for Mom’s taste. I ordered a genoa, basil, mozzarella sammich to go for Homeslice and he raved about it later.

Let me be blunt: this place rules. I will be spending every Saturday morning there, if at all humanly possible, eating French goddess food and caffeinating and dreaming.

And if anybody figures out a gig as per my specifications above, you know where to reach me.

L'Artiste Patisserie
17312 Ventura Blvd. (at Louise)
Encino, CA 91316
(818) 386-0061

Blossoming Lotus

As you are no doubt well aware by now after weeks of gloating and anticipating, and then reporting live just to rub it in a little more, I recently had the sublime opportunity to visit Kauai. Yes, I will be posting photos once I have the patience to sit down with the computer and download them, okay, settle. Settle! But for now, you will have to just deal with a super-duper restaurant shout-out, m’kay?

Before the trip, I was so graciously provided some hot tips by the ever-adorable Calivalleygirl on things to do and see in Kauai, and one of the things she highly recommended, even as a self-proclaimed meat-eater, was the Blossoming Lotus Restaurant. Assphincter boy says what? What? A meat-eater liking a vegan restaurant enough to visit twice and even recommend to others? I had to see this (and eat this) for myself. Especially since yours truly is trying to integrate more raw vegan food into her usual steady diet of chocolate, wine and snark.

Let me start by saying how beautiful this place is on the inside. It looks like what you would expect a super cool zen master who lives in a chic section of Bali’s living room to look like. And the servers are so sweet and caring and, unlike a lot of restaurant personnel I have encountered, they treated us like we were their best friends and they had all the time in the world for us, gently explaining what this or that strange term was, even though I’m sure they’ve had to do it a thousand times before. There was a certain, oh how do you say, a light? that came from within the staff there. They were glowy. And they played some kick-ass funk oldies like "Play That Funky Music White Boy" and "You Dropped a Bomb On Me. Baby." But I digress. Let’s talk food.

We had this red-pepper hummus thing with pita slices that was really tasty and kinda spicy. Ooooh, and the lemonade with passionfruit was the bomb. I have never had it made that way, and I am quite the lemonade snob. I hate the pre-made sugary crap, it blows. This was real lemonade with real fruit, nice and tart and refreshing and nothing getting in the way.

Derek and I decided to get two things and do sharesies. Now, my fave sammich in the WORLD is a well-made Reuben. By well-made, I mean in a decent deli with quality meats and breads, ALWAYS turkey pastrami since I don’t eat pigs, and always on toasted sourdough. Well this place has their version of a Reuben. I was skeptical, I mean, pounded tempeh instead of pastrami, are they serious? But oh man it was so messy and delicious with lots of saurkraut and Russian dressing. I was so bummed when I got full and couldn’t finish it dudes, I wanted that thing in my belly so bad! We also shared the Rama's Red Curry, which is Okinawan purple sweet potato in a creamy red coconut curry sauce. It was unique, but not in a unique-ew! kinda way. It was tasty and different, like an exotic dish in a fancy Indian restaurant. And sometimes different is good. True flavor is good. It keeps you on your toes.

Most astounding was sitting across from a total meat-eater and not hearing one single complaint during the entire meal, but instead a steady chorus of mmmmm’s and aaaahhhh’s and chompin’ and sippin’ his hibiscus/lavender iced tea.

Oh, and the best part? Rather than feeling sluggish and full and tired afterward, you feel kinda bouncy and peppy and stuff, and ready to go off and do some more chillaxin’. Next time I visit Kauai, you will find my butt there, scarfing up whatever they give me.

Blossoming Lotus
4504 Kukui St.
Kapa'a, Kauai , HI 96746
Telephone: 808-822-7678

Jinky's

Oh. My. Goodness. This is a breakfast shout-out of the highest order. You know how important a good breakfast place is? Especially if you have gone out and pickled your liver the night before? Well here you go, people -- I’m about to go large with this one. Jinky’s in Sherman Oaks. Absolutely, unbelievably, ridiculously good. I showed up at this place for the first time on Saturday to meet Bunnie before a hike in Fryman, and I was nursing the most gawd-awful hangover. I would say it was in the Top 10 Worst Hangovers of My Life. I had taken Bec out to celebrate her birthday the night before, and well, yeaaaaaahhh. Kinda overdid it on the sake and the champagne, but damn it was fun! The only worse hangovers I have had than sake involved an unfortunate tequila episode over one fateful Memorial Day when I was 22 (my ass got SCHOOLED on the ways of tequila because of that), and the suffering that was wrought on my person the morning after a night out with my brother in Tahoe wherein we drank just about every cocktail known to mankind in a sort of casino-club-bar crawl that we did. That night was super-disastrous for my liver. Oh, my poor liver. Pity my liver. Tell your children that if they are bad, they will come back in the next life as my liver.

Anyway! Jinky’s. Bunnie and I shared …. oh my god, are you ready? ‘cause I have dreams about these now that I am in the know …. Banana Macadamia Nut Pancakes (ginormous, with heaps of syrup and, get this -- room temperature butter that is actually spreadable) and Huevos Con Pollo, which was sort of like Huevos Rancheros with a nice chunk of grilled chicken on top and avocado and cilantro and stuff. Absolutely delicious all the way around. You try not to get full because it is so damn tasty, you don’t want to stop eating. Add to this the fact that they know caffeinehounds when they see us, and are kind enough to leave a mini-pot of coffee on the table with you so you can refill at your own pace. Add to this the fact that they serve this very quality green tea, iced, and will provide you a nice refill in a to-go cup to take said tea with you so that you can cram all the antioxidants possible into your toxic waste dump person so that you might have the hope of vaguely resembling something human at some point in the day.

That was Jinky’s. You so want to go there now, right? I know. Me too.

Jinky’s Café
14120 Ventura Boulevard
Sherman Oaks, CA 91423
Phone: (818) 981-2250

Minibar

It’s not often a stay-at-home mom can book time for girls night out. But there was Debbie, super cute with a little flower in her hair, saying goodbye to the kids and the sitter on Friday. She took my smokey-eye-made-up, big-hair-havin’ butt out to this awesome place she knows called Minibar. I came in with an open mind, and was so pleasantly surprised and impressed with this place.

It’s like tapas, only not really Spanish tapas. Just several little tasty dishes and holy crap, the best mojitos EVAR. We had pomegranate flavored ones and ordered a few dishes. But the best part of the experience was our adorable server, Lola. This woman could not have been any more warm, hospitable and charming. I wanted to fold her up, put her in my purse and take her home with us. She was pretty like Sonia Braga, and told us that when she put in our drink order with the bartender, she barked at him "AND THROW SOME ALCOHOL IN THERE, BE-OTCH!" How can you not love that?

It’s considered to be on the border of Studio City and Hollywood. I will def be making the trip back there just to see Lola.

After dinner, we danced our asses off at Coda until it was time to go relieve the babysitter at 1:30. Aaaahhhh, I love Fridays. And I love me some girl's night. And I love Lola at the Minibar.

Minibar
3413 Cahuenga W. (at Barham)
Los Angeles, CA 90068
(323) 882-6965

Olé!

OMG people, serious, serious rave reviews coming. My dad and I did the ol’ “Let’s Drive Down Ventura Blvd. on a Saturday Night And Just Spontaneously Pick A Place” routine. Did we want Italian? Did we want Seafood? Did we want something ethnic and exotic? We just didn’t know, so we flew by the seat of our pants, poo-pooing the French places, eschewing the franchise-type eateries. As you know, this approach to eating out could be met with disastrous results, but Dad and I got super lucky. We happened upon Olé! From the outside, it looked warm and inviting, and I saw that it was a tapas place, which is always fun, so we pulled in and gave it a shot.

We sat on the patio under their patio heater thingies and were greeted by a totally sweet server who took great care of us the whole evening. Though I love doing the thing of ordering several tapas and sharing, we were so starving that we opted to get one tapa, then share two entrees. I should mention here that, like any Spanish place worth its salt, they have sangria options, but the cocktail choices caught my eye and I settled on a Midnight Kiss. Our server recommended the Filet a la Plancha to start (grilled rosemary flatiron steak w/ anchovy butter). Who would think that starting off a meal with steak would be so inviting, but it set the tone for the rest of the meal, it was just so delicious and savory (no, you don’t taste the anchovy fishy thing). I got the salmon and Dad got the Fideos Vascos (angel hair pasta, shrimp and chicken in beer reduction sauce). We shared each and man, they were awesome.

It’s too early for lunch, and I’m getting hungry already just thinking about that place. So yeah, total thumbs-up. Oh, and since we got there early, there wasn’t much of a crowd, but by the time we left, the place was jumpin’. Reservations recommended.

Olé!
13251 Ventura Blvd
Studio City, CA 91604
(between Coldwater and Woodman)
Tel: (818) 986 3190

Encino Deli and Restaurant

One of the things I love the most about discovering great new places in our new ‘hood is sharing them with you guys. You will LOVE this one. It is such a find. I can’t believe the place wasn’t mobbed with hordes of people.

Derek and I found ourselves in need of breakfast Saturday morning when I discovered we were out of eggs and pretty much any other reasonable facsimile of breakfast-like food. So we meandered to our local Jewish deli around the corner, and boy, were we pleasantly surprised by how good it was. How good EVERYTHING was. For starters, we walked in and though we were dressed like chores-around-the-house folk with no discernable hairstyle of note on either of us, we were greeted like celebs and immediately ushered to a nice, fat booth where our drink order was taken. The menu is extensive and has all the traditional Jewish fare: gefilte fish, whitefish, matzo brie, etc. Even sturgeon. Who eats sturgeon? Isn’t that like a giant, seamonster-looking kinda thing? I mean seriously, what is that whole sturgeon thing about? But I digress.

After much perusal, I went with the Lox Benedict. Now, I love me some lox yo, so I was not disappointed with this dish of nicely poached eggs on a fresh bagel with tasty lox and hollandaise from scratch, not from a powdery packet. Derek opted for the standard pancake sandwich situation, which was also very good with big giant fluffy cakes. Service throughout was very friendly and accommodating, but not overly attentive or intrusive. I discovered a great tip from our server. If you are served with cold, hard butter that you want to spread some time this year, set your hot plate on top of it for about a half a minute. Instant softened butter.

We stuffed ourselves and then cruised the deli counter in the front, where we discovered (with little surprise because they were so good) -- holy crap! -- this place bakes their own bagels! There’s even a window to the bakery where you can watch them being made and check out stacks and stacks of freshly made bagels of all varieties about to be baked. In the deli case are all sorts of slabs of pastrami and huge sides of salmon and delicious-looking side dishes. We didn’t get anything, but it was so fun to look and know this place is there for us. Yeeeeeeah. Best breakfast EVAR. Would have to give it two big thumbs up, baby!

Encino Deli & Restaurant
17271 Ventura Blvd. (at Louise)
Encino, CA 91316
Phone: (818) 995-4545

Le Petit Cafe

I have a confession to make. I often like to dine alone. The perks are many: no waiting on someone else’s indecisiveness, no having to make polite conversation whilst trying to concentrate on savoring my meal, being able to sit and read neglected magazines that I never seem to find the time for, etc.

But that’s not what I need to confess. What I need to confess is my unabashed dumbshit-ness. See, I have extremely close access to this adorable little French bistro. And unlike the stereotype about French people, when you walk in there, you are greeted like a VIP, even if you are just a lonely little scrappy valley beotch table-o’-one like me. They have fabulous things on the menu like duck confit, sandabs, trout almandine, lobster bisque -- some of which I have sampled in the past and loved. So what does Yours-Dumbshit-Truly order every time she patronizes this establishment of such delicately flavored, authentic, sensitive-palate-catering cuisine?

A turkey burger with fries.

Wait, wait, wait, you guys, lemme explain. Hold on a sec. Please don’t hit the little x-marked close window button. Seriously. I’m really not THAT lame. There’s a good reason. See, I’m not much of a meat eater, and actually prefer the flavor of ground turkey over greasy hamburger meat, so as you can imagine, my quest for the perfect turkey burger has run far and wide. And this place has it: Slightly smokey-tasting, juicy, perfectly grilled turkey patty, topped with just-so, perfectly melted, quality cheese, topped with the perfect amount of perfectly thin-sliced produce, topped with some kind of sauce that is akin to Thousand Island, but no, it tastes far, far better than mere Thousand Island, and all of this is surrounded by a perfectly toasted bun. Basically, the thing is a perfect, perfect work of art. Every time. Did I mention it’s perfect? And the fries?

Oh. My. Lanta.

I try to avoid fried food whenever possible, but geez, a woman can only be so strong. These are perfectly thin-cut and crispy little devils that just beg and cry out to be eaten. The whole meal is close to what I imagine it would be like in a perfect world if In-N-Out would make a turkey burger, but then again, at In-In-Out you can’t order a nice glass of cabernet to go with your meal, and you can’t have the luxury of sitting in this cute little place, alone in your own world, eyes rolling back in your head with every bite while a sweet, adorable server checks on you periodically with a smile and respectfully lets you have your foodgasm. You think I’m exaggerating? Try it. I dare you.

Afterward, while walking down the street back to my place of business, I find myself looking at the ground, grinning and giggling to myself like I have a secret, running my fingers through my hair, walking with a swing to my hips. It is just like after a good shag. Remember that song by Joan Osborne, “My Right-Hand Man”? This is my Right-Hand Burger. That’s the power of Le Petit Café’s Turkey Burger with Fries.

When you go, ask for Danielle. She is adorable. Tell her Stupeet American Girl sent you.

Le Petit Cafe
2842 Colorado Ave.
Santa Monica, CA 90404
Phone: (310) 829-6792