Last Supper @ Lou

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Last Supper @ Lou

Three years ago, I discovered Lou Amdur and his eponymous wine bar. After one visit and many glasses, I was hooked. First, by Lou's infectious love & knowledge of all things oenological and the esoteric wine list (with non-traditional, yet evocative descriptions like "unfucked up" and "ephemeral"). Then, the seasonally-driven menu of DJ Olsen, a chef who frequents the Santa Monica Farmers Market so often he's a regular on KCRW's Good Food. An awesome waitstaff and friendly regulars create a convivial vibe. At Lou, one is never lonely dining alone; one night, a conversation amongst strangers at the communal table lead to a Seder invitation.

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Baco Slideshow

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Baco Slideshow

What is my aversion to writing about my favorite restaurants? It's not a question of selfishness, and that I want to keep them all to myself for fear of overcrowding. Quite the contrary--I want to scream from the rooftops about their excellence and share unforgettable meals with friends. No, I am afraid that my words won't adequately describe their awesomeness. Like a letter to a new love, I want each sentence to wholly embody my emotions, yet fret about misinterpretation. To quell my fear, I'm going to take a cue from teenagers, who use pictures, not words, to express their adoration (see: sexting) 

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Care For A Smoke?

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Care For A Smoke?

Unleaded, Supreme, or Tri-tip? Leave it to L.A. to have bomb-ass BBQ at a gas station.

Just as the name implies, Swingin' Door Texas BBQ serves up authentic 'cue from the Lone Star state. Located on a nondescript, Noho corner, it's easy to miss, in spite of the two giant smokers out front. Look out for a bright, hokey Western mural, a wagon-wheel lined patio, and bales of hay. The cowboy kitsch not only detracts from the unfortunate proximity to gas pumps, but is a sweet n' cheesy homage to Hollywood production design.

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Brooklyn Passeggiatta

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Brooklyn Passeggiatta

Brooklyn. Whether you love it or love to hate it, it is the holy grail for explorers of the edible. Throughout the borough, ethnic enclaves serve up regional fare: Russians in Brighton Beach, Hasidic Jews in Williamsburg, and Italians in Carroll Gardens. Let's focus on the latter, a neighborhood I once called home. In Carroll Gardens, the streets are peppered with old-school Italian joints, pastry shops, and seasoned butchers, whose friendly paesanos affectionately call you "sweetie" without any hint of sexism. While authenticity & flavor abound, you also get big portions, affordable prices, and the simple joy of knowing that your dollar is helping a local business.

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