Ford's Filling Station

After I got over my bout of pancake fever (see entry below), Joanne and I took a trip to Ford's Filling Station, located at 9531 Culver Blvd, deep in Culver City's burgeoning fine dining scene (part of the overall transformation from "Westside slum" to "wow, this city has more than just roads to the airport" the city is currently undertaking).

Wouldn't it be cool if you were so rich that you could open a restaurant (Chadwick's), sink it deep in debt, close it, and then open another one? If your name is Ben Ford and daddy (Harrison of such gems as Firewall and Hollywood Homicide) is your version of a small business loan, you can!

Let me give you the highlights, in bullet-points, as I have no narrative this time around:
-Trendy but not unwelcoming ambiance
-No Dept. of Health grade posted (they have an A, so they should be proud!)
-Kinky service. And I don't mean sexy-- I mean it had kinks. They took our menu before we could order and our waiter must've been working on some sort of commission because he oversold the $7 butterscotch pudding like it was yesterday's fish. What's worse: we bought it. Bill Cosby hasn't been this embarrassed since Leonard Part 6 was released.
-One single-stall bathroom per gender. The women's room had a carpet. Men's, unlike Days of Our Lives, didn't have enough soap.
-Bread was DELICIOUS. Just enough garlic to keep things interesting.
-Salt and pepper were served in weird mini-bowls that, as Joanne pointed out, could lead to some unsanitary salt-pinching (it's like penny-pinching but can cause scurvy).
-Brook trout, like Brooke Shields, was decent but not particularly flavorful/talented.
-Seated very promptly.

Don't let your hopes get as high as Josh Holloway before he tapes Lost (like I did) and you might like it.