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All posts for the month August, 2015

Los Angeles is up to its hips in ingénue chefs, and Josiah Citrin is one of the tops. Melisse is his flagship restaurant and if you’re looking for an ultra swank French experience, this is your place. More traditional French than California-French, this is a foodie experience for those with sophisticated palettes attuned to sauces, marinades, and complimentary flavors. Generously spaced tables in a large dining room with attention to plating, stemware, and presentation, Melisse is designed to be one of the best dining experiences you can find.

(310) 395-0881, 1104 Wilshire Blvd, Santa Monica

The lure of Matsuhisa is supposed to be the star power of its chef, Nobuyuki Matsuhisa. Nobu is the Mac Daddy of international Japanese chefs, having mastered sushi by age twenty, moved to Peru and incorporated South American seafood styles into his Kung Fu skills. Frankly, I was pretty unimpressed – especially given the price tag at the end of the meal. Four of us ate for $600. That was dinner for four, with only two drinkers. $600! And we were still hungry afterwards! Nobu’s sushi was fine, but I’ve had fresher at the locals-only sushi bars downtown for a fraction of the price. At its core the secret of sushi is the freshness and quality of the fish. Some days it’s perfect, some days you need a lot of lemon juice. I’ve been exceedingly harsh in verbal reviews of Matsuhisa to friends, because I’m one of those people who likes a good story with dramatic beats, but now that I’m committing it to searchable digital ink I suppose I should admit that the worst thing about the meal was that it was wholly forgettable – other than the sticker shock. I’m in debt to my parents for taking me out to a meal that was as much as the rent on my studio apartment at the time, God knows these places are out of my reach. But at those prices Matsuhisa is catering to a crowd most of us can’t even afford to park next to. I don’t even want to think about the price of a door ding repair on a $250,000 Bentley GT. Come to think of it, I don’t have to. An appetizer should just about cover it.

(310) 659-9639, 129 N La Cienega Blvd, Beverly Hills

Perhaps one of my favorite dishes on earth is the bastilla, a peasant pie made of layers of filo dough, quail, egg, cinnamon, and sugar. I swoon at the combination of sweet and savory, and my one attempt at making the dish failed spectacularly. I should add that I tried to make it for vegetarians, replacing quail with tofu, I was baking in Lake Tahoe at 5,000 feet elevation, and I’d never worked with filo dough before. Perhaps I should try again on more familiar turf. But why? Marrakesh does a spectacular bastilla, a gargantuan plate served family style. In fact, the best way to enjoy Marrakesh is with a large group, for the menu is set with three price options. The whole table agrees upon the price/course quantity they wish to pay, as well as a few choices of meats, and then the plates just start coming. I’ve had a few birthday parties here, as well as celebratory dinners. They’ve always done a fantastic job, attentive to our party, and gregarious in their welcome. A word of warning: Marrakesh has belly dancers who may lure you into joining them. Like airport valets, beggars in Rome, and strippers, stuffing a few dollars at them will make them go away.

13003 Ventura Blvd. Studio City

Mandarette is an outstanding, reliable, somewhat upscale Chinese restaurant that serves delicious traditional Chinese dishes with superb flavors. While the menu has your favorite delivery items, Mandarette is hands above anything you can get sent to your door. When I’m in a pinch to take a friend out to dinner I can rely on Mandarette to offer a bounty of options as well as a laid-back atmosphere where everyone from celebrities to neighborhood locals can get a great dinner. Entrees tend to run between $8 and $14 depending on meat vs. seafood, and soups are shared for two at $7. Two will eat for about $50.

(323) 655-6115, 8386 Beverly Blvd, Los Angeles

With chicken diseases sweeping all over California, it’s more important that ever to know where your meat is coming from and who is preparing it. I mean, when Uganda stops accepting poultry from you, it’s time to take notice. To that end, you usually can’t go wrong with traditions that go back five thousand years. A strict kosher restaurant is supervised by rabbis to ensure that all meat is thoroughly cleaned, killed quickly and efficiently with a single slash to the throat, dried and drained of blood, and kept far away from bacteria. You will get a lot more salt from kosher meats, as they are packed in salt to pull the blood out of the carcass. But it’s better than eating congealed muck cooked into your food, that’s for sure. Magic Carpet serves traditional Yemeni cuisine, which looks a lot like most Mediterranean restaurants, but is done with a different ratio of spices. In fact, what separates most middle eastern regions from another is not what spices and ingredients they use, but which ones they favor. When you’re all drawing from the fertile crescent, it’s how much you use of your bountiful crop source that counts. Magic Carpet is like eating over at a friend’s kitchen than a regular restaurant. A vast menu of grilled and roasted beef, lamb, and chicken, soups, stews, and more. Two people can eat for thirty bucks.

(310) 652-8507, 8566 W Pico Blvd, Los Angeles

The worst Mac store in all of creation
UPDATE: Mac Enthusiasts had their lawyer threaten me to edit my review. So I’m revising it, removing the parts they deemed libelous. I think it goes to prove that the store is so bad they’re willing to THREATEN TO SUE anyone who says something bad about them. Items removed are marked “redacted”. Mac Enthusiasts REDACTED should be avoided at all costs. A few years ago I purchased two DIMMs from Mac Enthusiasts. Shortly after I bought the DIMMs, they failed (redraw errors, application crashes and system freezes, culminating in a frozen startup process). Removal of the RAM instantly cured the problems and my system passed all hardware tests. I brought them back and they gave me two new DIMMs. They gave me two new *wrong* DIMMs. I brought my Mac to them and asked them to install the RAM since I did not have time to constantly fix their mistakes. They did, and a week later my computer showed major RAM failure again. I brought the machine back to Mac Enthusiasts and explained the history to a man named Mark REDACTED. Mark’s first comment was “more RAM magnifies existing problems”. I told him I had never, in over a decade of working on Macs, heard this and that was not an acceptable answer. He agreed to take my machine and remove the memory to see if the problem persisted. 45 minutes later a technician told me that they removed the RAM and my computer was still broken. I asked if they had booted from a CD-ROM, since having to reboot my computer 20 times due to bad RAM may have corrupted the boot software on the drive. The technician said he was not authorized to do this and handed the phone to Mark. Mark then proceeded to inform me that their RAM was fine and the problem must have been with my installation or otherwise my fault (based on my computer not booting after the removal of their RAM). I said that was impossible, and none of the evidence supported this. My machine worked fine for years until their RAM went in, at which point it started having catastrophic failure. In fact, the slots were not in question as I had replaced two 16mb DIMMs with their 64mb DIMMS. So far, consistently, when I removed their RAM, the machine hummed along. Mark again told me that I was blaming their RAM when there were lots of factors involved. I said that he was being evasive and difficult and the problem could be determined if he booted from the CD to determine if the issue was in the hardware. He refused to do this. He again attributed the problem to my lack of knowledge or other “unknown” factors. I explained that I worked Macintosh technical support in a retail computer store for five years, worked as a Macintosh systems administrator at a biotechnology company that was the sixteenth largest Macintosh company in the world, and then supervised system administrators in a predominantly Mac environment at a visual effects company. I’ve worked on thousands of computers, installed thousands of RAM modules, and diagnosed about every sort of Mac problem in hardware and software. This is also my personal machine, a computer I know inside and out. I know, for a fact, the problem is their RAM. I found it strange he was being defensive REDACTED. He could have simply tested my hardware by booting off a CD, finding that the machine booted he could then determine that he had sold me bad RAM again, and installed new RAM. I would have been a happy customer, he would have gained a tremendous amount of new business, and it would have cost him 1 hour of labor in the name of customer service. He refused. It got very heated the more he tried to deflect responsibility for selling bad RAM. We finally agreed for him to refund my money. I decided to give Mark one more chance. I said “what would you do in my situation? With all of the evidence pointing to the bad memory, what would you do?” Mark’s response was “I’d take the computer home and try and pinpoint the real problem.” This was too much. As Mark was typing up the return on the computer I couldn’t help but read his customer credo above him. “The customer is always right… It takes hundreds of hours to gain a customer and only a minute to lose one…Our customers are the reason we are in business…” I thought this was remarkably ironic. Mark requested that I not return to his store. I said that was fine with me, REDACTED. Ultimately, I got my money back and my computer returned to me. – although blood pressure and time high and gone. I took my machine home and connected it (with their RAM now removed). I inserted a bootable CD and my machine came up fine. It passed all hardware tests. I reinstalled my OS (because the constant reboots of a crashed computer damaged my OS) and then my computer worked flawlessly. I have been a Macintosh consultant for 13 years and would never, ever use Mac Enthusiasts. Go somewhere else, for your own sake.

10600 W Pico Blvd, Los Angeles, CA

I’m in love! Brazilian barbecue, a.k.a. meat-a-go-go is pretty much my favorite thing on earth after eating at M Grill. For $28 you get the hot and cold buffet of fried bananas, yucca mashed potatoes, pork stews, salads, vegetables, and more. But the real action are the discs you’re given, green on one side and red on the other. These are indicators to the bronze Brazilian men with gleaming white teeth to bring whatever meat they have on their skewer over to your table and carve you off a hunk. There were at least six different kinds of meats being served on rotation including pork sausage, smoked pork, tri-tip, sirloin, and a limited supply of an amazing brisket. This is all you can eat meat, and M Grill does an amazing job. As my dining companion said as he flipped his disc to green, “it’s go time”.

(213) 389-2770, 3832 Wilshire Blvd, Los Angeles (enter from parking lot behind building)

I may not be the most qualified person to write this review, as the 2007 Kaiser Permanente Los Angeles Triathlon was my first triathlon, I did the shorter, Sprint distance, and I came in 35th out of 52 in my age category. But since there is no review for it yet, and Yelp is all about the average person reviewing things, I’ll give it a go. The L.A. Tri has two distances, Olympic at 0.9 mile swim, 24 mile bike, and 6.2 mile run, and the Sprint distance at 0.4 mile swim, 20 mile bike, and 3.1 mile run. The Sprint has a longer bike course due to the fact that the L.A. Tri is a point-to-point triathlon which requires the athletes to swim in the Pacific and bike to downtown L.A. for the run section. The logistics of this coordination, as well as the information provided to the athletes is the reason for the one star demerit to be discussed in a moment. The course is spectacular. L.A. was made for the triathlete with easy access to the Pacific Ocean for training, thousands of miles of roads with flats and aggressive hills for practice, and several runners clubs with thousands of members and hundreds of course options. Without touching an automobile you can train all three events almost year-round. The course of the L.A. Triathlon exploits these features and gives the participants a grand overview of the geography of the city. The swim in Venice is situated around the existing surf facilities – showers, toilets, the Venice Pier, and all that gorgeous coastline with a surf that predictably shifts every five to ten minutes. The T1 transition area is in a parking lot, and you emerge with your bike onto Venice Blvd. The bike course moves through a dozen or more neighborhoods, each one with a different feel and slightly different climate. Venice, to Fairfax, to Hollywood, to Echo Park, to Downtown L.A. is truly diverse scenery. Climaxing with a monster bomb down Grand Avenue, flying at 50mph, the bike course zig zags to a finish at the Convention Center. With a long T2 area you have plenty of time to feel the agony of transitioning to the run portion, rack your bike, and then trot onto the run course where you get the thrill of running up that Grand Avenue hill that was so exhilarating to flash down. The downtown run gives friends and family ample room to setup and cheer you on, if you’re lucky enough to have people there for you. Even if you’re not, tri-fans are enthusiastic and triathletes deeply appreciative of support. My issue with the event is that during the swim portion the buoy markers were not clear and there was a lot of confusion between the athletes and the race directors. I asked the race president, on the lifeguard tower with mic in hand, what the Sprint course buoys were. He told me, “left at the far red buoy, left at the yellow buoy, left at the second yellow buoy, right at the inside red buoy.” Seemed right to me. My wave hits the water, we charge the surf in a reverse D-Day, and when we hit the first red buoy the lifeguards in the water start shouting for us to swim towards the second yellow buoy. “But they told us to round the far yellow buoy!” we yelled. “Sprint goes that way!” they yelled. So we went. Every single one of us sardines. Prior to our Sprint wave, the second wave of Olympic Distance men got confused and, duck-like, fifty men followed one lost swimmer around the first buoy – the lifeguards had all clustered at the far end of the course to guide the elite men’s pack leaving the amateur and regular guys to fend for themselves. This was corrected in later waves, but the second wave of men just got screwed. The T2 transition area turned out to be two long corridors of bike racks, as opposed to the more square T1 area. The T1 area made for faster in-and-out changeovers, while the long, narrow column of T2 added significant time in running along the rows until the rack was located. And lastly, nothing shows the failure of LAUSD than the very nice kid volunteers who brought the T1 bags from Venice to downtown and just had no idea how numbers work. T1 bags were supposed to be grouped by bib number, tied to the bag itself. But the kids, who were very friendly and enthusiastic, were either illiterate or didn’t care and just piled bags willy-nilly. This made for a fun game of very tired and brain dead athletes trying to find their stuff. These are not huge complaints. In a race of this size and complexity it’s a wonder it happens at all in a city this big and hostile to interruption. But it’s also an amazing race, and triathletes are an incredibly friendly, gregarious bunch who just love to have fun and compete in exciting areas. I’m thrilled to have found my sport, and I’m already booking up my race calendar for next year’s season. The L.A. Tri will absolutely be on that list.

You know this is a French restaurant because there are beautiful skinny pregnant women drinking scotch at the bar and smoking cigarettes. So if you’re in the mood for fashionably low birth weight babies, you’ve come to the right place! The Little Door is one of L.A.’s most romantic date locations; if your idea of romance is dining inside the latest Anthropologie catalog. The food was exceptional, the lamb tender and full of savory flavor and the fish fresh and perfectly cooked. They would not take our reservation without a credit card and the stipulation that if we did not honor our reservation they would charge us $25 per person. The day I accept New York style audacity from a Los Angeles restaurant is the day I am run over by an MTA train, halved from the balls below, and am forced to dine exclusively at places that excuse my leaking colostomy bag because I pay them exorbitant sums derived from my insurance settlement.

8164 W Third St., Los Angeles

Langer’s is in, well, how should I say, a, um, shithole. It’s in one of the worst parts of Los Angeles for both gang violence, aggressive homeless begging and bad parking. But you have to go because it’s the best pastrami sandwich I’ve ever had. Due to environment, Langer’s closes at four pm. They don’t even try to stay open after dark. But go for an incredible lunch that will have you swooning in a beef coma for hours afterward. They have great desserts, too! And you’ll burn off the energy running back to your car to get the hell out. (My girlfriend just said I was so white for writing this review.) You can even call ahead, tell them what bill you’re paying with, and a waiter will meet you at the curb with your order and exact change. Huzzah!

704 S Alvarado St, Los Angeles