When you think yourself a foodie, you either only enjoy food from high-end places (expensive) or food of the people (street stalls, etc). The stuff in between you're not supposed to like...even remotely.
That's why I'm not a foodie.
But I think you know what I'm talking about. You're not supposed to admit that you like say...Rush Street. I think the food is quite good though. It's the kind of food that doesn't outshine the company you're with. It's probably not the most innovative restaurant, but innovation is so passe.
He also spotted something else on the menu - a cheese plate for two. We're two people. And we love cheese. Let's do it! We each got a carafe of bellinis and eagerly waited for the food to arrive. Here's the cheese...tower?
My office recently moved to Downtown Culver City which means close to restaurants and the CuCi gallery district. I took a long stroll to the Corey Helford Gallery to see Andrew Brandou's new work, Mystic Garden. It's a bit of a departure from his last show, but still very colorful. The show closes next week.
This year's gift to Madonna Fan Club members is
From Madonna's site: "This high quality lithograph features 22 photos taken from the Celebration video’s original film and put together as a photographer’s contact sheet."I can't wait! I still haven't framed the other lithograph I got through ICON (Madonna's Fan Club).
He probably hears me say that everyday. It's true though. As there is a Freshman 15, there is also a New Relationship 15 or 20 or 30. Who knows. I just feel like a tank.
You see, I don't eat like this everyday. Don't get me wrong; I love food as this blog documents. However, on a daily basis I eat very simply. I call brown rice and grilled tofu a meal. I'm not used to eating something so elaborate, like the Korean barbecue we got at Shilla in Gardena.
I've been doing Korean bbq since I was a kid. It was a special event for my family, but I've never seen anything like what they did at Shilla. There was no steamed egg starter or noodles finish at the end. We just got sides, a simple broth, meat and rice. Shilla, you crazy bitch!
You're making me fat.
Typical Sunday morning ritual for us:
And on and on. I'm at my wits' end. I decide to shut my eyes and my mouth and let Him drive me to some unknown destination.Me: What do you want to eat?
Him: I don't know. What do you want to eat?
Me: I always pick. It's time for you to pick.
Him: We're here. Let's look at the Fraiche menu.
Me: Okay (looking)
Him: Well, what do you think? Do you want to stay or try another place?
Me: Let's eat here.
Hold on a second. What just happened?! He got me to make the final decision. AGAIN!
Boyfriends are sneaky...
I've been reading about this place forever and every attempt to eat here has driven me elsewhere or to Mr. Ramen, home for waiting-in-long-line quitters. This time I had Him by my side and He wouldn't let me quit. So, we shivered in the autumn wind, huddling close to the glow behind Daikokuya's famous yellow awning with hopes of eating a warm bowl of ramen.
Standing outside we, well I, had the chance to thoroughly read the menu and decide on our orders. We were getting the ramen, gyoza for me, fried rice and sausages for him. The gyoza made me curious - they were rectangle and not the cresent shape I grew up with. Must. Have. Them.
Instead of gyoza a plate of green onions came out with a garnish of gyoza. There was so much green onion, I brushed them aside to save them for my ramen. I thought the gyoza and sauce was pretty weak. I'm used to more ginger in the dumpling filling and the ponzu sauce wasn't as citrusy. They were fried nicely though, so not a total fail.
The sausages (really hot dogs) were very tasty with the mustard on the side. Not cut into octo-dogs, but that's okay. I've never had Japanese fried rice. It just tasted like fried rice. I prefer my mom's version (I guess it's Vietnamese fried rice?) since it has Chinese sausage in it.
From where we were seated we got a great view into the tiny gally kitchen. It was cool to watch the cooks dance around each other in a flurry,hustling to get our order out. I noticed one guy at the wok and I knew he was making the fried rice order. Another guy was stirring a large stock pot with the ramen soup base in it. He was obviously preparing our Daikoku ramen.
Watch for shows from http://www.brendanrogersgallery.com/ read more
on Terrible Yellow Eyes