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.

The freakishly gorgeous Lucent Dossier, Vaudevillian Cirque

I was rendered stoked earlier today when I got a call from the weird and warm folks at Lucent Dossier, saying they've reserved a ticket for me to head to the Labryrinth of Jareth, a masquerade ball of epic proportions at the Fonda. One caveat: myself, and my photographer, the Esteemed Mister Timothy Norris would not gain entry if we weren't wearing wigs or fairy wings or something kind of magical/drag queeny. My excitement only grew. Mandatory ridiculousness. It's rare, and thrilling.

I have since made a stop at the Vine Party Store and climbed over a heap of life size Fabio cutouts into the forbidden and roped-off halloween section, emerging with some sort of four dollar mask made of feathers, which I will wear on my face. We'll keep you posted on how Mr. Norris looks in my pink wig.

A trial run of feather-faced madness: 

i-D mag darlings, the Paris and Berlin-based duo Bless (Desiree Heiss and Ines Kaag) have dabbled in fashion, beauty, art, advertising and now, interior design. Check out their 'Wallscapes' which, when glued to the side of your home office/bedroom/bathroom, give the illiusion of living in an urban Berlin high rise. 

Just squint and you can almost believe you're overlooking the Berlin Strausberger Platz...mmm do I detect the aroma of currywurst und pommes frites? And the faint thump squat party techno in the distance? I'm like totally already there, ja!

All the wallscapes document interiors where Bless products live or have lived, and can either be purchased as 3mx4m posters (coming in nine strips) or as four wooden panels.

Available by phone order (213) 617-1105 or online at Ooga Booga.

Do I have a stick up my butt or is it messed up that Privilege celebrated the premiere of "Captivity" by reenacting scenes from the horror flick? Torture chambers and all! For those of you who don’t know, the movie is about a girl (Elisha Cuthbert) getting roofied at a club and then tortured. Something that, unfortunately, happens way too often.

That said: I’m going to be totally hypocritical for a second and say that Jenn Laskey did a great job putting together the entertainment. It’s not often that you see bloody baby dolls at Privilege, much less girls wearing Mohawks and black electrical tape over their nipples. 

(Photos courtesy of Jenn Laskey)

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 

Masturbatory L.A. artist Gary Baseman has teamed up with the vaginally-inspired Mexican artist Amor Munoz to create a seriously limited-edition line of delightfully x-rated wearable art. Their is a creative match made in heaven - Munoz took some of Baseman's best known art charcters and embroidered them on to peasant skirts, bouse and jackets alongside her own  depictions of the nude female form.  The results are titillatingly beautiful to say the least, although probably not suitable attire for Grandma's 80th birthday party or court appearances.

Several items from the collection will be on show (and on sale, presumably) at Baseman's opening this Saturday, at the Billy Shire gallery. Munoz, who is quite the minx, will not be in attendance - but we hope to meet her in LA soon. 'Cause there's nothing we love more than a good honest pervert.

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Photo credit: Amor Munoz 

It never fails: everyone walking into the Scene in Glendale awkwardly registers the stench of, as one patron squawked last night, "f@*ckin' beer farts, dude!'

While that sends shivers and nausea through me, there is a light at the end of this stinky tunnel, and one which makes breathing the thick air inside a little easier.

The smell is not generated by anyone's intestines, but rather, the adorable photobooth in the back of the scene. In particular, "sulfur dioxide and some minor ammonia and chloramine which will smell up the darkroom."  Or in this case, a bar.

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