Paddington's Tea Room

In an attempt to revive this sad, neglected little blog, I will post about my experience last weekend at Paddington's Tea Room in Beverly Hills. However, I implore all the other Zagat Whooligans to please post about restaurants (including some San Francisco reviews, ahem ahem).

Paddington's Tea Room is an intimate little shop that was basically created and decorated by some crazy British lady who apparently (really, really) loves florals and Paddington Bear. The server was a little creepy, but very attentive and nice. Not quite a recreation of my UK hey-day, but close enough for Los Angeles.

I went on a weekend, so they only serve afternoon tea (3 courses, $25) and high tea (5 courses, $35), but I believe if you go on weekdays you can order individual items from the cafe menu. I didn't make a reservation because it was short notice (the website takes about 2 days) and they did not answer their telephone. Fortunately we were seated when we got there, though it seemed like they only had one small table available because they were saving the majority of the shop for a high tea reservation (which never showed up during the hour and a half we were there... hmm...). If you go, there might be a problem with availability, but it was alright for us. Have a back-up in mind, just in case.

Even though it's $25, it's well worth the money. The tea was delicious, and as mentioned before, the service is top notch. They provide you with an array of tea sandwiches (including smoked salmon, egg salad and I think turkey with cranberry?) I really enjoyed the light cucumbers to cleanse the palate.

After the sandwiches (and many, many refills of tea), they serve you dessert. This includes madelines, hazelnut truffle type things and a third chocolatey thing. However, the real treat are the scones. WARM, DELICIOUS, BUTTERY. They are served straight out of the oven with strawberry jam and DEVONSHIRE CREAM. The cream is so sweet and delectable ohmigoodness so wonderful. I LOVE SCONES. THIS ENTRY NO LONGER HAS ANY STRUCTUREILOVESCONESSOMUCH.

I'm intrigued to try their traditional English breakfast, which is only served until 11am.
Here are some photos to tide you over, but overall I thought it was great tea, scones and atmosphere.


Tea.


Sandwiches.


Dessertssss.


Foodies.

Paddington's Tea Room
355 Robertson Blvd.
Beverly Hills, CA 90211
(310) 652-0624

BLD

Like others who write for this blog (and maybe even people who don't), I have a hard time naming my favorite restaurant. There are too many factors-- are we talking about food only? or food and price? or food and ambience? There's no one answer.

Until yesterday. Even before my food arrived, I knew I had found my favorite restaurant in LA.

Opened just a week or two ago, BLD has it all-- food, environment, friendly servers, and fairly reasonable prices for the quality of food. A few items on the menu are over $20, but nothing is over $30-- we're talking Cheesecake Factory prices. Desserts are about $7.

The restaurant comes from the same team of chefs that brought us Grace. I ate at Grace, and I loved it, but it was pricey-- about $120 for two people.

BLD-- which stands for Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner-- cost much much less when you don't include the booze. And about that, beware: I had a Long Island Iced Tea (I was with my parents, and that's apparently my dad's favorite drink) that set me back a whopping $11. For one drink! I can't stress the need for a pre-party enough, people.

I had the construct-your-own-dinner option: I chose the hangar steak with the garlic nage sauce, some fancy name for green beans, and 'taters (of the mashed variety, though they also had a fancy name).

The food, as I said before, was delicious. The service was attentive. The chef came out to meet people. All of that was great.

But I really enjoyed, apart from the food, the atmosphere. I'm a casual guy, but most places with great food require pants. No such requirement here. Come as you are-- the wait staff wears t-shirts and jeans, so you won't feel out of place.

And come early (and often). You probably won't regret it.

Ravi

Eat Well

I suppose I should count myself among the fortunate. Part of the reason I don't write about every place I eat in this blog (though I will try my best to catch up) is that all good food now seems to taste the same-- delicious, but of the same (high) quality. It makes for happy tastebuds and a boring review.

We're talking about the Graces, the Wilshires, the Violets, the Fords Filling Stations, and Fogos of the world. The freshest ingredients wrapped up in an enchanting ambience.

And then you have places like Eat Well. There are 3 Eat Wells scattered throughout the greater LA area, and I knew I had to try it when LA.com said that it's "rare a true Angeleno foodie hasn't stopped by an Eat Well at least once." Well, ok, maybe that's not the exact quote, and I shouldn't have put it in quotation marks, but I'm no journalist.

Whatever. They said I had to go, and being a follower, I went. And boy was I disappointed. The service was rushed, despite the fact that there were only two other tables occupied in the restaurant (which should've been my first clue). And while I appreciate the open kitchen, the food that came out of it was bland.

My vote: in the $5-10 price range, it's more expensive but less tasty than Chipotle. Stay away, unless you're in the neighborhood and crave diner food (in which case you probably don't belong in West LA).

Ravi

mrs. knott's in pictures

the restaurant. cool hat, man.


old newspapers on the wall


dear lord, the heavenly biscuits.



so warm, and buttery.



creamy chicken noodle soup (so salty, yum!) and side salad.



daryl & cindy



fried chicken (!!!!!!!), mashed 'taters, corn.



mindy!



daryl & cindy again (with chicken)



pete



ravi



and this is how you get mo' biscuits.

Mrs. Knott's Chicken Dinner Restaurant

There's a song that comes to mind, and I'm not proud to admit it, but you've all heard it. It's by The Fray (will they still be popular in the fall... say, around September 24th or 25th?) and I think it's called "Over My Head."

Heeding Kathy's warning, I hadn't eaten all day (some would argue that, by the time we arrived, I was so famished my stomach was tied up in Knott's, but I wouldn't stoop that low with a pun).

The "deets":
- Salad
- Soup
- Unlimited buttermilk biscuits (while I remain partial to the Fogo de Chao biscuits, these were still delicious)
- Side dish: corn (everyone's wise choice at our table) or a weird-sounding ham+cabbage number
-3 pieces of fried chicken
- mashed potatoes and gravy
- Your choice of boysenberry sherbet or a fruit pie.

In the short time I've lived in LA, I guess I've become "LA." Food isn't enough. Ambience counts for something in my book, and Mrs. Knott's has none (well, it has a truck stop ambience...) but, more importantly, no air conditioning. It was sweltering in there, people. For that matter, virtually all of the "California Marketplace" shops had no a/c, which isn't very Californian.

But back to the food. The chicken was far and away the star of the meal. I won't bother with the sides, because they were predicable and not stellar (you've probably eaten corn before). The chicken, however was moist, tender, and white, with a crispy brown skin. Delicious.

In many ways, Knott's Berry Farm is merely a shadow of its former glory-- the park was sold to Cedar Fair LP about ten years ago, and the food businesses (jams, etc.) were sold to ConAgra Foods about eight years ago. Inexplicably, Cedar Fair's first plan was to add a replica of Independence Hall to their parking lot. I don't know why. I'd like to think the restaurant also deteriorated (because it's easier to blame corporate accountants for cost-cutting than genuine employee negligence)-- once spotless, its most recent regular inspection cited violations for vermin and other small insects in the food preparation areas. Had I known this before... well, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to try the chicken.

And the chicken made it worth the trip.

Ravi

Alejo's Presto Trattoria

Yesterday, Ravi, Mickey & I went to Alejo's in Marina Del Rey. It's near Costco (Lincoln and Washington), in a tiny strip mall next to a 7-11. The restaurant itself is also very small, and has about ten tables where you cram next to other parties.

But the Zagat awards and food critic reviews that are framed on the walls are quite right- the food is awesome. We had: the spaghetti & meatballs (me), eggplant mama mia (mickey), and the shrimp al diablo (ravi), all of which were very tasty and huge portions.

You also get delicious bread with olive oil packed with garlic (yumm). Everyone buys cheap wine from the 7-11, which they uncork for free. We bought $13 chianti.

We were so full by the time we left, we died.
Dead.
You should go too.

Alejo's Presto Trattoria
4002 Lincoln Blvd
Marina Del Rey, CA 90292-5614

Panera Bread

How you let me down.

Oh, I've been before-- which is what makes this post so hard to write. Panera, how I loved you. And how you've hurt me so.

Eric was hungry. Kathy, Colin, Eric and I were driving down Wilshire trying to decide what to do. I suggested Panera and everyone else agreed (they were all first-timers).

We got to Panera. I went to the menu (I had already eaten, but there's always room in my tumbly for a baked good).

Kathy asked, "Ravi, are you going to order something?"
I answered, never one for word variation, "Yeah, probably a muffin or something."
"But what about the grade?"
OH GOD.
I glanced up and there it was. Panera got a B! Panera, a chain restaurant that can afford to pay for reinspections, settled for the B!
But you know what, I ordered anyway (more about that on my personal blog).

As I made my way to the line to order, there was a vision usually reserved for my nightmares: a basket of bread, in which they had placed several loaves, and from which sampling patrons would have to tear a piece of the bread off, and (if they so chose) dip it in olive oil.

EWWWWWWW.

This picture is far too large:




-->Ravi

Diddy Riese Hot Dogs

Working under the assumption that no meal is too trivial to be blogged about, it's time to talk Diddy Dogs (as I now call them).

Problem is, I may never call them by that name again. Indeed, the old Diddy Riese should stick to making cookies, because the hot dog was a little disappointing. Of course, when price gets factored in, I'd probably eat them again-- $1.75 for a hot dog and soda can only be beaten at Costco (but then, what can't be beaten by Costco? Whenever my mom would go to Costco and ask my dad what he wanted, he'd always say: "a new wife," and then she'd get offended and pretend like he hadn't told that joke before, which to me establishes Costco's frequently superior quality-- so much so that my mother would feel threatened by the big box retailer's bride selection).

The main problem with the Diddy Dogs was the way they were served.


Imagine your pre-made hot dog rolled up in a longer version of these puppies (canine imagery galore!). It just isn't right.

Bonus points for having Strawberry Slice on tap, though. You just don't see that kind of dedication to a soda fountain anymore these days.

Next time I'll just stick with the cookies: Cinnamon Sugar, Candy Chocolate, and Chocolate Chip.

-->Ravi

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.

Griddle Cafe: Where pancakes are a baffling ordeal.

Gather, if you will, to hear the tale of--

Just kidding. It seems like I'm the only one who enjoys food blog posts written in Epic Narrative. You're all Philistines. (That's bad.)

I'm going to go ahead and say it: if you don't like pancakes, you're probably a child rapist and mass murderer. And bearing that in mind one can imagine how pleased I was to hear that we were going to go visit the Griddle Cafe, a tiny restaraunt in Hollywood (7916 Sunset Blvd, the corner of Sunset and Fairfax) that is known for its mastery of the oft-forgotten art of the Pancake.

That's right, I said it. "Mastery." You didn't misread me. Their menu is dauntingly vast, and that's only the breakfast portion (though, to be honest, I didn't see particularly many people ordering anything else but).

Griddle Cafe is open on the weekends from 8AM to 4PM (7AM-4PM on weekdays), and we set out on our merry excursion at about 9:15AM from Westwood. This proved to be a greivous mistake. Parking was pretty simple for once in this godforsaken city as there is a clearly marked lot around the corner for use of Griddle Cafe customers. But there's always a catch: apparently it's one of those quintessential LA sorts of places (like every fucking block on Sunset, apparently), so by the time we arrived (I'm a little fuzzy, but I want to say about 10AM.) there was a disheartening line of people waiting to be seated. Kathy her name down for our party of five, and it was about 12PM by the time we were seated. To be fair there was some sort of kitchen difficulty (fire, flood, gnashing of teeth, etc.) which delayed seating, or so the endearingly wiseassed buzzcut waiter guy announced a number of times. But even without the unnamed calamity, it still would have been a pretty damn long wait. So get there early if you plan on eating breakfast-breakfast, rather than lunch-breakfast.

Upon reflection, I never actually set foot inside the establishment as we were seated outside. Outdoor seating didn't feel particularly cramped, but the building shades the sidewalk pretty much completely so if the heatlamp you're seated under runs out of propane you're kind of in trouble if you're there in the morning. But it's got a pretty laid-back atmosphere to it. Informal like a diner-type place but not quite so diner as to feel truck-stop cheap.

But I'll stop being such a damn tease and get to the main event. Sweet zombie Jesus in the sky, Aiko had warned us when the trip was being planned that Griddle Cafe gives WTFHUGE (Intarweb-to-English: mind-bogglingly huge) portions. Why didn't we listen? Like the headstrong young go-getters that we are, we laughed off her dire warnings and dove in with bravado that would prove to be our undoing.

Picture your average-sized dinner plate. Just so we're on the same page here, let's say about nine or ten inches in diameter. Now, picture a stack of three pancakes towering some four inches into the Heavens, the fluffy golden breadth of the pancakes spilling over the edges of the plate effortlessly mocking of the capacities of a mortal human stomach. Each of the five of us stared in awe at the steaming monstrosities before us, and I instantly regretted ordering an additional side (THEY ABSOLUTELY WERE NOT JOKING WHEN THEY NAMED IT AN "Oversized Slice of Ham." GOD HELP ME, THEY WERE NOT.).

Don't let my fearful tone give you the wrong idea, though. Had I believed that I was going to face down pancakes the size of bike tires, I would have prepared. But even though they were huge, they were heavenly. Cooked thoroughly, yet still fluffy and delicious on the inside. Buttery and delicious, but not overly rich. I ordered the BLUESberry (okay, so they lose a few points for hiring a fifth-grader to name their dishes), traditional blueberry 'cakes topped with a blueberry sour cream. And they weren't no mass-produced Bisquik blueberry pancakes (read: blue food-coloring tablets to fool you into thinking those spots are actual berries). They were fresh blueberries cooked right into the pancakes. The blueberry sour cream might sound a little strange at first, but it was a beautiful addition to an old trick. It was like a generous dollop of blueberry yogurt on the top of the stack.

Though I didn't sample any of the others' pancakes (I was deathly focused upon mortal combat with both my 'cakes and my ham), they ordered the Banana Nana ("Brown-sugar baked bananas cooked inside our buttermilk batter"), the Yellow Brick Road ("You don’t need courage for these butterscotch, caramel and walnut filled originals. Topped with whipped cream and powdered sugar [There’s no place like The Griddle!]", Sow Your Oats ("Honey, cinnamon and rolled oats make these something you shouldn’t resist!!!"), and Eye's [sic] Wide Open ("Wake up with a shot of espresso and semi-sweet chocolate chips folded into our buttermilk recipe…….Sprinkled with powdered sugar").

I only finished about half of my pancakes, but all of the ham because you NEVER waste meat GRAAGHGHHHGHGH. I felt like I had eaten an entire hobo (one of the fat ones, with a hobostick and everything). It was not an unsatisfying feeling.

The total bill for the five entrees (Does that term apply to breakfast? Question mark?) and three sides was about $60, which ain't too shabby considering the sheer magnitude of delicious pancake.