Opus: No Longer Awesome

Published
by
James
on June 3, 2008
in Disappointment and Food
. 0 Comments

Opus was a nice little hidden gem. The tasting menu was one of the best damn deals in LA: delicious, reasonably priced, and seriously… delicious. Just look at all this hot tasting menu action. The culinary delights that were found were all due to head chef Josef Centeno. Did you notice how all that was in the past tense? The bad news is that Centeno left a few months ago and has been replaced by… nothing. Opus won’t even admit that Centeno left as they still have his picture and bio on the site.


Josef Centeno. Chef. Italian. Blurry Ghost.

It's like that dysfunctional family that tries so hard to look normal that they just come off as more disturbing... awkward, forced smiles in all the pictures. Anyway, Opus now has a possibly Centeno approved but not Centeno prepared standard steakhouse-ish menu which isn't bad but by no means anything to get excited about. And no tasting menu to speak of. Which is to say possibly stop by if you're seeing a band at the Wiltern that you probably paid way too much to see because ticketmaster is pure evil, but don't go out of your way.

As for Centeno, the rumormill says he’s opening up a new place called Lot 1 on Sunset. I’ll be there craving tasting menus and those damn Bacos I’ve heard so much about as soon as it’s open.

ConsumerMachine Has Forked~!

Published
by
janet
on June 3, 2008
in Awkward
. 0 Comments

Hi loyal readers!

My travel-centric adventures have spun off onto their own site! Find it here.

Thanks for reading,

*janet*

Rama Thai

Published
by
janet
on May 14, 2008
in Drink and Food
. 2 Comments

Rama Thai was recommended to me by a local (does Escondido count as a local?) and it’s just gorgeous. Right in the Gaslamp District, this restaurant is swanktastic and our table was just lovely. It was a semi-circle booth with a wispy, ethereal curtain in front for maximal privacy. Very romantic, though I was with Liz and MoMo and discussing non-romantic things.

Cocktails - COMMENCE! I had some weird cherry shit that was only ok. I like cherry flavor that borders on plumminess, and this was more like maraschino juice with some Effen vodka in it. I was too cool for school to order a mojito, but I lusted after Liz’s as it was just so fucking refreshing. MoMo got a lychee martini, which I have an acquired allergy to, so I couldn’t taste. Pity - MoMo is a lightweight and there was plenty of leftover martini that went to waste…

To start, we ordered a larb salad. They called it the Tropical Salad (larb) - Ground beef mixed with ground roasted rice, chili and lime juice, red onions, scallions, cilantro, and mint. Larb salad is a staple of my Thai food orderings, and I was looking forward to the meaty minty crunch.

What came out was like a giant heap of beef. Where do they get off calling this a SALAD? We almost thought they brought out the wrong thing, though as I re-read their description I guess it doesn’t refer to greens at all…The flavor was good - nice and intense, though lacking an acidic punch, and I wanted a mountain of rice if it was going to be this meaty meaty.

Next was Pad See Ew, another staple for me, but with an upscale twist with roast duck. The usual sweetness of the noodle sauce with the unusual treat of duck (and duck FAT and duck SKIN loooordie!) was sublime.

I cry when I don’t get curry, so we definitely got curry. Panang curry with chicken (wow, I really did not step outside my comfort zone in this meal. Though the larb made me go outside my comfort zone that little fucker), which looks a tad yellow in this photo, doesn’t it? Compared to other panangs I’ve had, this one was at once thinner, but then stickier, once it adhered to the rice. Some sort of modern engineering marvel? It wasn’t even a hint of sweet, which was perfect with the pad see ew and the weirdo larb.

After this meal we went out to a club nearby, got totally drunk, and danced with strange men until the sun came up.

Just kidding. We went back to our hotel room, got on our jammies, and discussed which talks we were going to skip the next day. I believe the lights were out by 11 pm. We’re crazy like that.

Rama Thai
327 Fourth Ave
San Diego, CA 92101
619.501.THAI

San Diego Sundries

Published
by
janet
on May 11, 2008
in Drink and Food
. 1 Comment

San Diego RULZ! I loved my mini-trip to San Diego, despite Liz’s general San Diego hate. It was a gorgeous confluence of good weather, good people, super swanky hotel (the unparalleled parallel towers of the Manchester Grand Hyatt), and of course, good food.

I mean, just look at the view from our room (top)! Looking at it makes me hungry from imagining all the fish in that ocean.

Among other excellent eateries, which will be blogged throughout this week, we also went wine tasting. Yes, we ditched the last session of our conference (how much conference did we actually go to anyway? practically none) to make it there by 5 when the tasting started. It was at a little cafe called PJ’s Coffee & Tea. Their website says, Sometimes “let’s go for coffee” means “I’d like wine, you can have coffee.” Amen, PJ, amen.

The place was deserted. Which meant that we got freaking gigantic pours of everything and lots of free bread. I’m not a wine snob and I must confess I don’t remember how anything tasted. But, for posterity’s sake, here are the wines: 2004 Louis M. Martini Cabernet Sauvignon, 2006 Whitehaven Sauvignon Blanc, 2005 Toscolo Chianti, and 2005 Angeline Chardonnay. More interesting to me was my little sister’s boyfriend, who I was meeting for the first time. He dropped her off first and then went to look for parking, and spent 30 minutes looking for a spot. What a gentleman. When he finally got there, he ambled through the door, gigantic and baby-cute at the same time. Killer smile, too, and sweet as sugar. I approved. Liz was more interested in my sister, whom she was convinced did not exist. (She does, and she is a younger, gigglier version of me.)

The sister and the boyfriend then whisked me away to Coronado Brewing Co., where the only person who had any sort of brew was me. Bunny (my sister’s nickname for her giant hulk of a boyfriend - amazing) said he was driving precious cargo around so he didn’t want to do even the slightest of drunk driving awwww.

I had the Nutter Brown: Medium-bodied and light brown in color. This mild ale has a sweet maltiness and roasted character. Unlike English brown ales, this brown ale has a noticeably hoppy flavor from its Willamette hops. Don’t be afraid to have a Nutter! I also had a BBQ chicken calzone which was the perfect food to accompany the beer. I saved half and ate it the next morning, warm and crawling with campylobacter, and it was still great.

More to come on my San Diego eats…

Manchester Grand Hyatt
One Market Place
San Diego, CA 92101
619.232.1234

PJ’s Coffee & Tea
250 5th Ave
San Diego, CA 92101
619.231.5788

Coronado Brewing Company
170 Orange Avenue
Coronado, CA 92118
619.437.4452

The Night I Almost Died

Published
by
janet
on May 5, 2008
in Food and Random
. 2 Comments

OK, well, the title is … hyperbole. I’m sorry that I’ve been missing. It’s not really all due to my near death experience. It’s more about being busy as shit.

Anyway, I read once that people should stop apologizing for not blogging and just fucking blog already. Here I goooo!

I have this crazy overactive immune system that thinks I’m allergic to everything. I mean, I’m not one of those loser peanut kids. But still, I have gone to the emergency room more than once because I ate something weird.

My symptoms - hives, puffiness, itchiness, stomach pain, diarrhea, wheezing, and, eventually, throat closure. The first ER trip was after a crazy dinner in Chinatown in NYC - the culprit was either crab, shrimp, or jellyfish. That time I started dying on the subway, continued dying in front of the New York Stock Exchange, and was finally revived in the ER closest to the Twin Towers. The second time was in Marina del Rey, after eating an entire can of lychees, where I freaked James the fuck out with my scary Japanese horror-movie swollen eyes. This time it was…a salad.


Suspect #1: Whole Foods Organic Mixed Baby Greens

A SALAD? RUFSM? I knew, though, instantly, from the unique “this-is-anaphylactic-shock-you’re-fucked” pain in my tummy. I immediately took two Benadryl and futilely tried to sleep it off. But then I started wheezing and went out into the living room where Tinx said, “Dude. You’re puffy.”

Nestled in my bag, my Epipen beckoned to me with its glistening automatic trigger needle. At this point: To inject or not inject? Too soon, too soon. I had at least an hour before my throat would close.

I wanted to go Urgent Care instead of ER, so Tinx drove me to St. John’s instead of the ER that is next door to my apartment. But then we ended up in the St. John’s ER anyway. After traveling through a maze of corridors, we were told to sign in.

Let me tell you, there is NO SUCH THING as patient privacy. The waiting seats are probably 11.5 inches behind the check-in window. The lady behind the window alternately screamed, “What’s the matter?” and “What’s your mother’s maiden name?” and “Tell me your social security number!” at me. I wrote them down so I didn’t have to broadcast it and then she just yelled the information back to me. Fucker.


Suspect #2: TJ’s Sunflower seeds.

Given priority ahead of me in line were (1) a man whose mother had had a stroke and couldn’t get to the ER from the car (they wouldn’t treat her unless she came in WTF?!) and (2) this poor guy who, when asked “What’s the matter?” said, “Um, I’m trying to figure out how to say this. Um, I think I might be a danger to myself.” Poor poor guy. The lady was not impressed and made him wait, where he promptly lay down in the hall and started crying (punctuated by bouts of insane laughter).

When I saw the triage nurse an hour later, she was very concerned. My wheezing was dramatic by then and my blood pressure was through the roof. But that’s normal for me. I was whisked into a bed where a flaming nurse and a nice doctor lady took care of me.

The rest of the night was a blur because of the drugs but I’d been through this enough times to know exactly what was going to happen. Some super strong corticosteroids and some super strong antihistamines, and some albuterol. I got reeeaaallly loopy and sassed my nurse out and Tinx shushed me. We played Monopoly on her cellphone (NOT FUN) and went home a couple hours later.


Suspect #3: TJ’s Greek Goddess Dressing

So. What the fuck was I allergic to? I’ve had everything before. But I was fine with shrimp and crab until I turned 17 so perhaps I have acquired some sort of allergy. The sunflower seeds seem suspicious because they are in the nut family? Is that even true? While the name of the dressing is exotic, the ingredients in the dressing are completely benign. Which leaves…the fucking lettuce? I think it was some sort of weird mold because the greens were over a week old.

Anyway, I refuse to get food phobic and will continue eating everything under the sun. Big thanks and roomie love to Tinx for driving. I leave you with a loopy conversation -

Me: [loopily, slurring, opening and closing mouth] Dry mouth. Dry mouth. Ha ha haaaa side effects may include dry mouth, constipation -
Tinx: MASTURBATION!?!?

Brasa

Published
by
janet
on April 28, 2008
in Cuteness, Food and Pets
. 2 Comments

My week of hell is over but now I am a new auntie to a new puppay.[1] How can I think about food when all I want to do is eat her delicate ears?

Is it already April? Ah. In fact, it is almost May. Waaay back in February, I went to visit dear Liz in her new home of Minneapolis. It was quite a lovely time, filled with two cute baby boyz whose energetic antics and extremely energetic fights were adorably and funny because they weren’t my kids.

The eating was good, too. As Liz always says, Minneapolis is great if you have money and want super upscale food. But this little Brasa joint seemed like a perfectly good normal-scale lunch spot.

Actually, to call it “normal-scale” is cheating because it’s a little brother of one of the super fancy restaurants. The big brother is Restaurant Alma, and both are headed by noted and James-Beard-nominated [NOM NOM NOM!] MN chef Alex Roberts.

Brasa looks like it was built into a large garage. I think it was. I think this because one entire wall of the restaurant was a garage door.

The menu is fun - lots of intruiguing sides, such as Garnet Yams with Andouille Sausage, Slow Cooked Collard Greens with Smoked Turkey, Rustic Style Cheese Grits, Creamed Spinach with Jalapeno, Yellow Rice with Rosada Beans, Fried Sweet Plantains, Crispy Yucca Tossed with Citrus & Olive Oil Sauce, Brasa Style Cabbage Salad, and Creamed Corn Bread.


Palms so patiently and politely clasped…

You attach these sides to one of their signature meats, which are Spanish Creole Style Rotisserie Chicken, Twelve-Hour Slow Roasted Pork, or a combination plate.

ACK! Decisions!!![2] Luckily, there were four of us (me, Liz, and two very esteemed social psychologists…I would have been more starstruck if they weren’t so silly-acting and normal, if a bit flaming in one case and granola in the other), so we divided and conquered.

I got the chicken and the yams and the cabbage salad. Good choices, right? Others got collard greens, rice & beans, yucca, the special (many grains including hominy), and Liz got the pork as her main with spinach and plantain.

I was somewhat dissatisfied by how quickly everyone reneged on their “let’s share all our sides!” promise once the food came, but I was supremely happy with my salad and yams and stole a good chunk of Liz’s food.

The pork was smooth and creamy - if I ever went back this is what I would get. The texture was more akin to cotton candy than pork!

Highlights beyond my yams (sticky, especially in the back-roof area of my mouth - oh, delightful!) were my cabbage salad (crunching between my teeth with a “shkin shkin”), and the collard greens (bitter around the edges of my tongue, but in a nice way).

Lowlight: yucca (which was yuck-a).

OK, I gotta go. I have a pupperson named Payback looking at me with plaintive eyes and pink tongue.

Brasa
600 E Hennepin Ave
Minneapolis, MN 55414
612.379.3030

  1. Simon, said owner of new puppy, is Filipino, and those folks call all female family and acquaintances “auntie.” Looking through his phone contacts is hilarious, as there are about a thousand entries in “A” that begin with “Auntie.”
  2. I just learned in Dr. TOTNL’s lab today that there have been experiments done where they find that people are less likely to buy jam if there are 26 flavors of jam rather than 3 flavors of jam. So let that be a lesson to stupid big-menu places like Cheesecake.

Crazy Shitty Week

Published
by
janet
on April 20, 2008
in Random
. 0 Comments

Hello devoted CM readers!

This is the craziest week I’ve ever had coming up, and I’ve been slacking on the CM end while I prepped for it, and will continue to slack. Thanks for your patience. I’ll update as soon as the craziness is over - definitely by Friday!

In the meantime, here is an iPod case (via Geekologie) that looks like meat. Marbly meat.

I know, it’s lame and certainly not enough to make up for two weeks of silence. Perhaps the fact that I feel guilty and shamed makes up for it a little?

Ugo

Published
by
janet
on April 11, 2008
in Food
. 1 Comment

Miss Debbie and I went to Ugo the other day for an emergency girl-bonding session. There are several, but we went to the one near the movie theatres in downtown Culver City.

I noticed that they grew into the space next door - I think it used to be like an outlet store for Entenmann’s or some such craziness. [1] Now that they were bigger, I didn’t really know which entrance to go through…so we went through the corner door.

…to discover that the two Ugo’s weren’t even connected? Strangeness.

…and the menu was different from the normal Ugo’s (no gnocchi)? Weirdage.

…and we were stuffed into a teeny tiny round table next to a rowdy row of patrons loitering by the counter?

So, it turns out we were at the “bar” version of Ugo. I wanted to get up and go to the real Ugo next door, but when I asked if that was too confrontational-ey for Debbie she said “yes” so we stayed there. I got the Rigatoni Bolognese (pictured top) and a huge glass of yummy wine.


Debbie’s stylish Diet Coke

I chose the second-to-cheapest wine, which is my usual strategy to save cash but not appear to be doing so. I’m sure every server is onto me anyway.

The rigatoni was good in the way that starch + protein + saturated fats are soul-satisfying. A busboy came by and offered me parmesan, and I said “YES PLEASE” and after he gave me two anemic spoonfuls, I asked, “Can you just leave the cheese here please?” He said, “Yes, OK,” and promptly left with the cheese in his hands. Damnit. Then I asked the server for more cheese and she gave me another sad sprinkle or two and ran away with the cheese too. Damnit damnit.

While we ate, we discussed many things such as (a) is it cool or weird to have your future mother-in-law say, “All you need to do is pick out the dress?” regarding your wedding? Frees up shit-tons of time for Debbie to work on her dissertation, but doesn’t she want some sort of say? (b) Why do boys hate and refuse to plan anything, like they’re allergic to planning? and (c) Is gelato delicious, or is it gross? (Neither of us could figure it out.)

So I stuck with the fruit tart. Strawberry and raspberry were the same price (Asian tightwadness goes “Ding!”) so of course I got the raspberry.

I think the berries in this photograph look adorable, like little children who went through a slightly traumatic event and so their hair is all messed up, with random strands sticking up all over the place.

Kind of how I was feeling at the beginning of the meal, but not by the end. Luv you Debbie!

Ugo fucking Bar
3865 Cardiff Ave
Culver City, CA 90232
310.204.1222


  1. Does anyone pronounce the the second “n” in Entenmann’s? And could you please stuff one more fucking “n” into that name, please?