Boba has taken on this kind of weird proxy status in my food life. Because I just recently realized that when I say I crave "boba," I'm hardly craving the actual gummy, gelatinous globes of tapioca. Those things get really tiring to eat...and digest later on. What I really want is the excuse to drink cold caffeinated anything at 11 pm. In fact, after witnessing a friend request exactly five boba balls with her iced coffee, I adopted the same embarassing display of specificity. 

Of course, I couldn't have been happier when I discovered that my local Tapioca Express is now offering mini boba balls. (Okay, I know I'm late to this party, so please, no comments about "where have I been?" Well, given that the poor food blog has yet to get a single comment, I guess beggars can't be demanding. But still...)

Seriously, these things are tiny, tiny. And they provide the exact opposite experience from traditional boba drinking which requires a magnum straw, the better to see each dark ball amble up methodically to your mouth. These mini little buggers come shooting at you so shockingly quick, straw diameter be damned.

No wonder they felt it wise to stamp a new disclaimer onto the plastic cup.

 

Did you catch that? What, that was too tiny? "Please drink carefully to avoid choking on the Boba" (emphasis mine).

Consider your gag reflex warned.  

 

 

Ivy, shmivy: Robertson Boulevard's got cheaper options for those of us who are still one E.R. guest spot away from the big times.

Chaya Brasserie is the Kia Rio owner's alternative to weekend brunch at The Ivy. I headed out with my gf and bf (that's my Godfather and Brendan Fraser) this weekend and pigged out on their sun-tastic outdoor patio. A round of flavored lemonades -- peach, mango and green tea -- was followed by ginormous portions of tuna tartare with avocado, chopped salad with popcorn shrimp and an ahi tuna burger. Yum. Favorite part of the meal: when the couple at the next table sent back their brunch pizza (scrambled eggs on a pizza shell with a drizzling of truffle oil) because it was "too truffle-y." Nice style!

When you're done with brunch, shop at Kitson, hit up Newsroom for a smoothie or wreck your car a la Lindsay Lohan. Maybe that'll make you feel like a star.

 

 

 

Yesterday, you were dazzled by the most horrifying flavor combo in recent memory. Today, we've upped the ante:

To celebrate the release of The Simpsons Movie, Ben & Jerry's has created a limited-edition ice cream flavor which combines Homer's two favorite foods: doughnuts and beer. The new flavor, called "Duff & D'oh-Nuts," is probably as gross as beer-and-doughnut-flavored ice cream should be.

But don't go looking for this in your freezer aisle anytime soon: the Ben & Jerry's PR dude informed me that "Duff & D'oh-Nuts" was a one-day-only flavor concocted for the Springfield, Vermont film premiere event.

 

 

Yes, it’s a burrito. And yes, it’s stuffed with nachos.

Although Taco Bell came out with an almost identical monstrosity around this time last year, we expected more of you, Baja Fresh. Take this:

 

L

 

And this:

 

M

 

And one of these: 

 

D

Using our mad journalistic skills, we got our hands on a couple of Baja Fresh concepts that didn’t make the cut:

---Burrito Nachos (bite-size burritos, smothered in nacho cheese)

---The Burrito Shake (one part burrito, one part smoothie)

---iNachos (for a quarter, they dip your iPhone in hot melted cheese)

 

It's no secret that the the Metromix team has been working our little booties off lately. What? Oh, you weren't aware? Well, keeping on top of all the haps in the city is busy work, people!

No sleep, very little food—how do we keep up? I'd like to think our natural charm and effervescence. But taking stock of our desks just recently, I realize it's all about the maté. Lots and lots of yerba maté, a tea infusion of proto-caffeine loveliness that immediately makes you hippy-dippy in love with God's green earth. 

The collective obsession is thanks in large part to our events editor Alie Ward who's pimped her love for maté on her myspace page—so much so that an up-and-coming tea company pimped right back. Pixie Maté has maté of every sort: 100% pure leaf; infused with lemongrass, chocolate, or chai; maté concentrate to blend with your milk or soy alternative. All delicious and purposeful for an afternoon kick in the pants.

Pixie Maté—you with the adorable little name—you've swiftly made your way into our bloodstream. Forget Red Bull; Pixie Maté gives us wings. Just take a look:

 

 

Last weekend I went to a friends house which is notoriously full of swag.  I was drawn to this odd device sitting on the kitchen counter, half resembling a giant can of mace, and half light saber.  “What is it??”  

“Its canned oxygen…”  as she takes it in her hand and squeezes a large puff into her mouth while simultaneously inhaling in an orgasmic manner.

“Canned oxygen?!”

“Yeah, this one is peppermint flavored.”

My jaw was agape.  My friend forced it into my bag and I now have my new accessory.  Lagerfield has a fan, I have a can of peppermint flavored oxygen.  Its going to be hot.

--Shane Redsar 

 

I’ve seen Hairspray twice this week and all I can say is that I have a hankerin’ for some soul food now.  It’s amazing how many references to food there are in the songs, its awesome!  Theres a whole number with Queen Latifah and John Travolta involving various food items, so much fun!  Yeah, I’m a dork.

--Shane Redsar 

 

 

Donuts, with a side of chess, at Sunset Junction’s favorite late-night donut shop, Tang’s. Consider this the geriatric equivalent of Slurpees and Street Fighter II at 7-11.

Look what looms above the corner of Batali and Silverton:

Yes, due Mozze, we get the freakin' picture.

 

Recently went to check out The Counter, the gimmicky Santa Monica burger joint with the pencil-and-pad menu that's designed for ultimate consumer customization. More importantly, while waiting for the chefs to handcraft my burger, I spotted someone who looked an awful lot like Beach Boy Mike Love entering the joint with a female companion. He was wearing a black Hawaiian T-shirt and his signature “I’m bald… or am I?” hat. (He is.) Naturally, I tried to listen in on his conversation to see if he’d claim credit to a few more Beach Boys songs in the course of natural conversation.

My burger came (Delicious? Nah.). I continued eavesdropping. If it was Mr. Love, I’m proud he didn’t take credit for constructing my burger. On a scale of ‘Caroline, No’ to 'Good Vibrations,' I'd give the whole experience a 'God Only Knows.'

Because they're all names of Beach Boy songs.

 

Once in a digital blue moon, eBay will do something that makes this whole Internet thing make sense.

Case in point: a recent listing for an unopened can of Crystal Pepsi (you remember, the 7-Up-lookin’ wunder beverage of the ‘90s). Once shipping costs are factored in, one can of this champagne-of-Pepsi-products costs $36.

You won't just want to guzzle this at home like any old can of soda; Crystal Pepsi deserves better than that. You're going to need to throw a full-on Crystal Pepsi party.

Here’s how it goes down:

1.    Invite your friends, especially the ironic ones who will ’get’ what you're doing and chuckle about it later while they’re on Pitchfork.

2.    Keep the CP (that’s Crystal Pepsi to insiders) chilled in a wine bucket throughout the party to add drama.

3.    Open at climax of party, and give partygoers a taste of the 15+ year old beverage, which will taste "delicious" and "definitely under a decade old."

 

Thank you, eBay. You truly are an electronic bay of mystery.

 

--Amir Kenan

I'm not sure how obsessed any of you are about Famima!!, but they had me at the the double exclamation point.  As a rule, I love any thing that demands me to shout, such as Orange Bang!  With Famima!!, it not only demands it, but gives you license to do it Julie Andrews style on some Austrian mountain top.

So far, I'm a fan of their turkey with brie and cranberry sandwich.  Nothing like a few slices of brie to class up a sandwich.  And you can even get a Pom LycheeTea too!  I've been looking all over for this stuff.

Now to try a rice ball!! or a katsu sandwich!!  or some bao!! using double exclaimations is fun!!--Shane Redsar

 

How do I love thee, Target? Let me count the ways:

 

1. For carrying Hellman's Mayonnaise—not its inferior, less-awesomely-named, west coast counterpart Best Foods. The only other place I've seen Hellman's mayo in L.A. is Barney's Greengrass, and there it's like 15 euros a jar.

2. For boldly offering a new, bite-size candy sensation modeled after The King's favorite sandwich (fried peanut butter and banana). Yes, the new Reese's Peanut Butter & Banana Candy is being marketed as an Elvis-approved 'Collector Edition' treat. The big guy is either spinning in his grave, or trying to eat his way out.

3. For teaching me to reach for the sky, but keeping my feet planted firmly on the ground.

 

I don't know how to quit you, Target.

You. Complete. Me.

 

--Amir Kenan 

Deciding on a late night taco in the area, my neighbor decided on Macho's Tacos.  Originally, he was going see if Yucca's was open, but Yucca's is like Brigadoon in its business hours.  Machos however, is as regular as a senior citizen sauced on prune juice.  Personally, I've really only ever had their Machos steak fries, but my neighbor swears by their burritos.  He got a chicken burrito with rice, cheese, guacamole, and sour cream.  it might've been the Oro Azul he drank earlier but he devoured it with reckless abandon.  It was so good apparently that even his friend from down the block came by to have a bite/the rest of it.  I had no idea that this burrito has Pied Piper capabilities, i really should take note.

I just wonder how magical Yucca's tacos are now... 

--Shane Redsar

Ikea, everyone's favorite purveyor of craptastic furniture and lingonberry juice, has just announced that it's recalling its complete line of marinated herring. And since it's Ikea we're talking about, the herring is packaged and sold under a variety of ridiculous, faux-Swedish names like DILLSILL, SENAPSILL and (my personal favorite) INLAGD SILL.

Please get your marinated herring from an alternative marinated herring source until further notice.

 

--Amir Kenan 

Last week was rough. As you know, I was assaulted by some random thug on the mean streets of Culver City. To ease the ensuing pain, good ol' doc prescribed Vicodin.

The moment I mention that I'm on Vicodin, I get open palms shoved in my direction giving the universal gesture for a free handout. I knew Vicodin was popular, but I didn't know that 50% of my contacts are junkies! They all come out of the woodwork, reminiscing on the good times with their old friend Vic, and longing for a reunion. Jeez, and you think you know a guy...

Anyhow, being doped up out of my mind has made blogging quite difficult; though I managed to bust out a few novel entries. Could you tell I was intoxicated while blogging? Did you leave scratching your heads? I mean, I guess I could have blogged about the deliciousness of Vicodin, but I figured everyone knew that!

It's neither here nor there now; I'm now completely sober and drug free. Let's just hope I don't become some boring sod who doesn't know when to shut up. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to become the next Hunter S. Thompson. --Shane Redsar

Now, we shot a video with Bin 8945 for their 1st anniversary (coming soon...to my mortification). The space is fantastically-intimate, the food is phenomenal and owner/managing director David Haskell is a super-guy. Bin is also known as a chefs' hangout—but that seemed completely irrelevant to me. With my luck, who would I see?

Luckily, shooting the video quickly gave way to eating, drinking, and eventually lighting a stogie with David...inside the restaurant. (I know! Scandale!) I was working my way through the Cuban, when who should walk in but Daniel Boulud.

Daniel freaking-master-chef Boulud! Seriously folks, this is huge. I had never been starstruck until the moment I introduced myself, shook his well-seasoned (ha!) hands and took a photo of him and David. Plus, he's super-nice and super-normal.

The NYC-based chef was in town to shoot a TV special and he had come in with Grace's Neal Fraser after fliming at the Beverly Blvd restaurant. The kitchen had run out of food, so they grabbed a couple of bottles of red from Bin's phenomenal wine collection, headed out to the patio and hailed the bacon-wrapped hot dog vendor for some midnight sustenance. Top chefs love bacon dogs. Awesome.

 

A few weeks ago, little Lisa Lee needed help with a project for her 9th grade Spanish class. She and her friends needed to find authentic Mexican food on Olvera Street. Easy. IMHO, the only place worthy eating is Cielito Lindo.

It goes without saying that Cielito Lindo sells the best taquitos in LA. I've been going there my whole life and so has, I discovered after a quick google search, just about every other Mexican who grew up in LA. I've eaten there when it's raining buckets, I've eaten there when my make-up is melting off my face, I'd even be willing to bet I was there in utero.

No surprise that I got a craving. So I endured more than 45 minutes of traffic to spend less than 30 minutes at my favorite place on the corner. It was hot, I was sticky and I almost threw down with a nine-year old over a corner table, but what's new? As I dug into my taquitos, avocado sauce running down my fingers, I suddenly remembered little Lisa Lee and her five friends. Lisa proudly showed me pictures of her excursion and I almost fell over laughing. There they were, apprehensive looks on their faces, eating the best taquitos in LA. With forks.  

I went to Versailles the other day with my Mom and some of her friends from Nigeria. Versailles is a funny place as it mimics almost every ethnic comfort food out there. "This tastes like food from Indonesia!", "This tastes like food from Nigeria!", "This tastes like food from the Phillipines!" (we also had a Filipino at the table). If I were to ever host the UN, I know exactly where to take them.  Any more international, and it would be a Benetton ad. I think the secret is in their rice/beans, chicken, and oxtail soup.  

Man, I wish Indonesian food was more inclusive (I'm Indonesian, FYI), though I don't think blood paste or whole sauteed squid is on most palletes, international or not.

 

Do you like frozen yogurt, but wish it tasted a little more like pizza sauce?

Well, you’re in luck! Unlike froyo behemoth Pinkberry—which only serves the vanilla and green tea flavored stuff—Yogo Tango, one of the gazillion new L.A. frozen yogurt joints desperate for a slice of the Pinkberry pie (Mmmmm, Pinkberry pie…) has begun offering frozen yogurt in a variety of flavors, from chocolate to peach to (say it with me) tomato.

Behold: 

Photo Credit: www.yogotango.com

Believe it.

Try it.

Like, sprinkle some parmesan on it.

Then toss it out.

 
--Amir Kenan 

Photo credit: Los Angeles Times

 

I share a birthday with Neil Armstrong. My best friend shares a birthday with Hitler.

And as of dinnertime tonight, two new L.A. restaurants—Osteria Mozza, Mario Batali and Nancy Silverton’s ode to all things mozzarella, and Craft , the Los Angeles outpost of Tom “Top Chef” Colicchio’s super-popular New York eatery of the same name—will be born on the same day.

Should we be worried that it’s Friday the 13th?

Since comparing the two dueling see-and-be-seen restaurants seems inevitable, let’s just cut the Craft (Zing!). I propose a good ol’ fashioned smackdown: Mozza vs. Craft. Mano a mano. No scratching or hitting below the belt. Biting permitted.

Let the smackdown begin…

Round 1: Reservations

Since their reservation line opened at 10 a.m., I naturally started calling Mozza at 9:45 a.m. By 10:10 a.m., I was on two phones speed-dailing like a true champ, and trying not to take the busy signal personally (you’d think I was calling a radio show trying to win Maroon 5 tickets). Finally, at 10:15 a.m., I made it through… and was told they were already completely booked until Monday.

Next I rang up Craft, which not only picked up on the first ring, but was still taking reservations for opening night (though only at 6 p.m. and 11 p.m.). A couple of minutes later, I got an email from Craft (!), confirming my reservation and offering helpful suggestions regarding parking and dress code ("Smart Casual": so bring your weekend monocle).

You’ve won this round, Craft. But I hear that Mozza’s mozzarella bar is pretty wicked…

Keep posted for reviews of both restaurants in the coming week – same Metro-time, same Metro-channel.

--Amir Kenan 

 

 

My best friend Jenny and I have been going for late-night pizookie runs at BJ's runs since... well, since forever. Something about a piping hot, oversized cookie topped with whipped cream and vanilla ice cream really gets us talking. We talk about guys, we talk about our other friends, we talk about that one year in high school when we weren't talking and she had to do pizookie runs with someone else. It was a tough year and after "someone else" turned out to be a man-stealing slag , I was mercifully re-instated. But that's another story for another time.

 

Before we know it the pizookie we are sharing is gone and the bus boys are vacuuming the floors. We usually take that as our cue to leave, though not before snapping a few photos of the devastation we leave in our wake. 

This morning missing from my daily commute was the tamale lady who sold breakfast tamales, pan dulce, and champurrado at the corner of Venice and Fairfax.  It has become somewhat of a daily ritual, seeing the steam rise from the Styrofoam cups as the bus riders huddled around dreading the rest of what is surely a lackluster day.  It was comforting to see her morning after morning doling out a bit of home cooking to the world weary Los Angeleno populace.  I understand why she was probably ousted from her corner, though it does feel like a little bit of community died with it.  Isn’t there a better way to deal with street vendors than just get giving them the heave-ho?  Hopefully she’ll return in a few weeks time, when the City has forgotten about her little spot on Venice and Fairfax.

 

--Shane Redsar 

A coworker brought Sprinkles cupcakes today to cheer up the mood in what has been crunch time. I selected just about one of the most amazing blueberry cupcakes I've ever had (hard decision between that and the red velvet). I think the difference between this and other blueberry cupcakes is the frosting; it is sweet, light, and moist. Though was it worth it to spend an ungodly amount of time in line, and pay $3 for one cupcake? Since I neither waited nor paid for it, the answer is, well, yes! What a sweet, free reward for what has been a particularly hellish day.

--Shane Redsar

Photo Credit: Damon Winter

 

My Dear Seared Ahi Tuna:

I hate to do this in a letter, but I think we need to start seeing other proteins.

Sure, we had our fun: Seared ahi appetizers. Seared ahi salads. Seared ahi tuna burgers. You used to be so… raw. But lately you seem to be showing up on every menu in town.

My friends told me to ignore you, but every time I show up at an L.A. restaurant – Kate Mantilini, Il Forno Caldo, Swingers – there you are. And now you’re dressed in wasabi reductions and tossed in miso vinaigrettes. You used to hate miso!

Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. (Sometimes I feel like you don’t know who you are anymore.) It’s not me; it’s you. My mom was right: she warned me that you’d be cold in the center.

I’m sorry it had to end this way. We’ll always have the Seared Ahi Tuna Sandwich at Newsroom.

xoxo
Amir

PS Do you still have my Audioslave cd?

 

--Amir Kenan

 

 

Lo and behold upon returning from his trip my rooommate announced the Simpsons donut in the fridge was actually for me!  Oh happy day!  Time to dive into this insta-diabetes inducing pastry. --SR

Sometimes, really odd and memorable things happen to you while eating creating this odd memory link between the taste and the event . Like your very first "I'm so wasted could you hold my hair back" drink (I will never have a Cape Cod again). Or that perfect pizza on your first date with your significant other. Well, I had such an event and food pairing yesterday.

On my way home I was walking to the bus stop when all of a sudden an intense and sudden pain came at my face. I screamed and looked around and saw a man running away from me. He had punched my designer sunglasses into my face, crushing them into a flat wreckage of metal and glass. The blood was spilling out of my nose and mouth as if the hoover dam broke and i was just there screaming in pain and in complete confusion. Luckily, a hospital was across the street and an ambulance saw me about 30 seconds after the incident.

A few hours and 2 vicodins later, im feeling better, shaken but better. a few of my friends had rushed to the hospital to see the elephant man i had become. they were really sweet, my friend Rosalva even gave me an intensive hand massage with lotion.

Afterwards, my other friends Ariel and Dan took me out to Rally's. Neither of us had ever been to Rally's but we decided to give it a go. We sure were glad we did too because it was a pretty darn good burger with seasoned fries. I ordered a double whatever they had. It was a little heavy on the mayo side, but for the first time, I didn't mind, maybe it was the Vicodin talking, or the blood that still lingered in my mouth.

So I guess im shelving the Rally's burger up with the Cape Cod and the Palmermo's pizza. Let's hope the next food item included on the list will involve a lot less violence. 

I took a little trip down to Pepe’s Mexican Food, or as I like to call it Pay-Payzzz, last week to officially seal the deal on my “no bikinis this summer” policy. Love handles be damned, I inhaled three shredded beef tacos without taking a single breath. Now Shane will be rolling his eyes at my little jibes regarding my weight after telling me yesterday “You're so skinny, it’s ridiculous” to which I responded “Yes but underneath my clothes, I’m floppy.” But I digress. The point, if there even is one, is that Pay-Payzzz is The. Best. Taco. Place. Ever. And it’s not just because the tacos are good (which they are. So, so good) but because with its outdoor-seating-only policy and drive-thru window Pepe’s is about as LA taco joint-ish as you can get. Case in point: Every time I go there, and I go there a lot, the possibility of a drive-by shooting crosses my mind. But then I take another bite of my fifth taco and think “Well, if that’s the way I’ve gotta go, at least I’ll go happy.”   

Pepe's Finest Mexican Food, Alhambra

511 W. Valley Blvd.Alhambra, CA 91803

(626) 289-8618

It is now that current crunch time... You know, the last few days before your prospective biweekly paycheck. I don't know about you, but I'm your average 20-something, fiscally-irresponsible male living in Los Angeles. In other words, I'm broke. So here is my menu for the week before the sweet, sweet paycheck.

Mon.

Pan dulce for bfast $0.75
Two tacos al carbon from El Pollo Loco $2.00

Tues.-Thurs.

Repeat as Monday

Happy Monday everyone! Love, Shane

--Shane Redsar 

The best looking guy I ever dated didn’t smell right. This turned out to be a good thing because when I finally gave him the boot I discovered he may or may not have been a complete lunatic. Whew! Potential relationship crises averted. My nose has been known to bail me out of many fishy situations throughout life (plenty of pun intended). This is particularly true when it comes to what I eat; if it doesn’t smell good, it doesn’t cross my lips. Over the years I have compiled a list, yes a LIST, of the foods that I have thus far denied entrance into my stomach based on smell. Now that I have become a self-professed professional eater, I’ve realized that my list needs some tweaking.

Something tells me you did not visit this blog to read about my love of teriyaki chicken and cheese pizza. And so, for the cause, I’m going to do two things. I’m going to show you my list. And I’m going to invite you to pick ONE thing from it for me to sample.

I only promise to actually stick the darn thing in my mouth; I make no guarantees that I will like it. My blog tomorrow might be titled “Mushrooms taste like old socks.”

The Grand List:
Mushrooms; sushi (the rawer, the scarier); fish and lobster; anything with curry in it; jalapenos, flan, coconut, chili powder, tamales (I know, and I'm Latina!); coffee (yes, yes, I've never put coffee to my lips); and kiwis.

For fun, you can preface your response with "I triple dog dare you..." just as extra assurance. I could never resist a good triple-dog-dare.

--Andrea Juarez

testing the testiest tester!

I came home today and opened the fridge to find a perfectly pink frosted donut with rainbow sprinkles.  It was an almost too perfect donut.  And that's because it IS the perfect donut... it's the official Simpsons Donut.  The marketing geniuses for the "Simpsons" movie are pushing official Simpsons paraphernalia at 7-11's across the nation from the Simpson donut, to Squishees, and Buzz Cola.  It's pretty awesome.  Even more awesome are two of the 7-11 locations in LA have actually converted into Kwik-E Marts!  I wonder if Apu will be there...

--Shane Redsar

&

You’ve probably seen the delivery cars with the logo emblazoned, and you’ve probably wondered to yourself, “What is this Crispy Crust, and is it a pizza place, video game, or movie?”  My friends Julie, Mark, and I also wondered the same exact thing, as the logo was such a fun departure from the usual boring standard logos we see across the city.  It made us feel like Burger Time was real and playing right before our very eyes. 

After scouring the internet for any information we finally came upon a listing (gasp, they don’t have a site yet!?),  and called them up.  After talking to a friendly man over the phone who was willing to tell us the entire menu over the phone, we settled on a large pie with pepperoni, sausage, and mushrooms.  We also got an order of hot wings, slice of cheesecake, and a 2 liter diet coke.

After tipping the friendly delivery man, we dove right into the pizza.  Man o’ man, I don’t know if it was the hunger or the sheer anticipation, but this pizza was pretty darn good.  The sauce wasn’t too salty, and even had a slight sweetness too it and the crust wasn’t crispy at all, but somewhat chewy in texture, almost with a bagel like consistency.  All in all, it was an enjoyable experience and we devoured it with pleasure.

Now to convince my friends from the east coast that I’ve found a decent pizza. It’s always a hard sell with that crowd as apparently LA has never made a good pie. Ever. --Shane Redsar