Wat Thai (Temple)

The Wat Thai in North Hollywood is the first and largest Thai Theravada Buddhist temple in the United States. Built in the late 70's, the Wat Thai appeared out of place like it was plucked out of some serene mountain-top forest and dropped onto the flat and dull landscape at the edge of the San Fernando Valley, where autoshops and gas stations seem like unimpressed neighbors.

My introduction to the Wat Thai came at an early age. In the early 80's, my parents, older sister and I had just arrived to the United States from Cambodia as refugees. A place of prayer for Theravada Buddists was rare back then, so word of Wat Thai spread relatively quickly amongst the Buddist minorities that littered across SoCal. While my parents were inside the temple praying, my siblings and I would scatter around the playground that was near the weekend Thai school adjacent to the temple and mingled amongst uniformed Thai kids who were probably coerced by their parents into attending weekend classes. Kids here would come on Sundays to learn the Thai language as well as the culture.

Faith may be the reason why our family trekked out to the Wat Thai in the first place, but to be completely honest with ourselves it was the food that kept us coming back. No where else in Southern Cal or anywhere outside of Thailand for that matter could you find food that was so authentic, so flavorful and so true to Thai cuisine than what was cooking up at the Wat Thai. Back then, before health codes were fashionable the food stands were located in the basement of the temple. The basement was dimly lit, always filled with smoke, crammed with people--all of whom were combatting with one another to get their food as fast as possible so they could head outside to recapture their breaths and enjoy their meal.

Change booth. Sorry, Connect-4 and checker pieces won't work.

Fast forward to today and there are outdoor booths spread across one side of the temple's parking lot. Before you pay these food stands a visit, you must first change your green bills into plastic coins. This is how the temple keep track of sales and ensure itself to a piece of the profits. Don't worry about "over-changing" your cash as you can always exchange any left over coins for U.S. currency again. Here's a quick run down to the value of each coin: Red = $2, Green = $1, Yellow = 50 cents, and an orange robe = FREE FOOD! (jk!, please do not wear an orange toga just to get free food).

Here's a hint: the longer line has the better papaya salad and yes, it's worth the wait.

There are cooking contests held every year to determine which vendors are able to sell food on the temple grounds. The competition is so fierce with many vendors vying for limited spots that the temple is now alternating vendors every other weekend. You won't see you favorite papaya salad lady on consecutive weekends (if you just happen to visit on consecutive weekends 0=)).

Mmmm, comforting.

There's nothing better on a cold day than a nice bowl of noodles. The richness of the broth is achieved through hours of simmering the beef stock in a huge barrel-sized steel vat. The broth and noodles can be differentiated and accented in a variety of ways from duck to pork to beef (pictured above).

Two sausages and a chicken satay... (sounds like the beginning of a dirty joke)

The chicken, after being marinated and skewered, is grilled to perfection with the exact amount of char and then dipped into a sweet post-marinade (which is what sets this chicken satay from any I've ever had). There's no peanut sauce to detract from the flavor of the chicken. The sausage served here is uncategorizable by any other link. It is not your typical bratwurst or even in the same class as the chinese sausage. There's a slight sourness to these sausage that needs to be appreciated, because it somehow balances the sweet and peppery meat. Dotted throughout the sausage is vinegared-rice (my theory) that defines this brand of frankfurter.

Spicy Papaya Salad.

The signature dish of the temple. Fish sauce, lime juice, palm sugar, chili, dried shrimp, salty crab, tamarind juice all smashed into shredded young papaya makes for one helluva salad. J and I love our papaya salad spicy! No, not the "El Scorcho" type of spicy that y'all put onto your Gorditas when you guys are feeling a bit adventurous. I mean we like our salad very very spicy. The type of spicy that makes our ears ring like how it would if a bomb were to explode nearby. There have been many occasions where we would shout at each other from across the table just to communicate after being deafened by this salad with beads of sweat dripping from our noses, sniffling back our chili-induced mucous, finding salavation in the cabbage, the sweet rice, the dwindling cup of Thai iced-tea, anything! One day while stumbling around in a half-hallucinated state to search for any sort of restoration for my senses, I discovered the holy grail, the penicillin that would calm the shock that J and I put our bodies through every visit. I don't even know if I should share my discovery of this icy dessert...oops, I've said too much =X. Next time reader(s), next time.

Unclassifiable: Not quite a dish, yet not quite a dessert.

The thrill of discovering something new and delicious is what we try to strive for every visit. Many times we miss, but sometimes we strike gold. In this case, we struck...well, bronze. The deep fried tofu probably lost its appeal after cooling down a bit and was nothing you can't find at you local subpar dim sum house. The glutunous taro cake on the other hand was a find worth savoring.

Experiencing the food at the Wat Thai is a religious experience in itself--a journey sure to be appreciated by all faiths.

Beard Papa's

Who is Beard Papa? In short, he is the world's only baker emeritus with distinction in the field of creamery. To find out more about the Beard Papa story, click here. The buzz about Beard Papa finally made it's way to me a couple of months ago when J. informed me about the craze. Beard Papa dubs its creation as "the world's best cream puff". I just had to check it out for myself. The franchise has made its way around the world with locations in Asia, Australia and the United States (I wonder if they are planning to call the store in Mexico 'Papa's & Beard'?).

Our first taste was at the San Gabriel location. When we entered the shop I couldn't help but notice the smell of scrambled eggs permeating throughout the store. I figured that the eggy aroma came from the French choux mixture baking in the oven. The baked puffs are taken out to let cool a bit, before a machine fills the airy pastries with a masterful blend of whipped cream and custard. Afterwards, the baker lightly showers the cream puff with powdered sugar. Be careful of the first bite since the powdered sugar can cause a knee-jerk cough (sorta like ingesting too much tabasco when sucking on an oyster).

Hollywood location.

I haven't had that many cream puffs in my life, so I can honestly say that the cream puff at Beard Papa's was the best I've ever tasted...not to mention the most expensive. At a buck fiddy a pop, this little pastry the size of half a baseball will be leaving your wallet feeling lighter than the puff itself. Chocolate and green tea filling are also available, but on certain days (to keep the addicts coming back).

Hollywood location.

The filling of the cream puff was cool and matched well with its shell, but at nearly 18 dollars a dozen, I'll stick to bringing donuts in for the office mates. ;-)


Hollywood & Highland Shopping Center
6801 Hollywood Blvd.No.1.5.-153
Hollywood, CA 90028
(323) 462-6100
Beard Papa's website
store locations

Fiore's, Natural Italian Yogurt

[continued from previous post]

We stumbled into a Fakeberry! After dinner at Shabu Shabu House, we walked into Fiore, thinking 'natural Italian yogurt' was probably some type of gelato offshoot. The hip, colorful plastic chairs should've tipped us off that this was a Pinkberry wannabe. We ordered a medium with 3 toppings and the price came to be 55 cents more than the medium at Pinkberry (and I thought Pinkberry was a rip-off). The cups looked bigger and the yogurt wasn't hollowed, but it did not tower pass the brim of the cup like it does at Crackberry...I mean Pinkberry.

We got our usual toppings of blackberries, blueberries, and strawberries (toppings that we think are most expensive and out of season, so we can stick it right back at 'em!). At any rate, the yogurt at Fiore's tasted exactly like Pinkberry's (fanboys and fangirls of Pinkberry, no hate mail please, my yogurt tastebuds are not as refined as yours). Will we be heading back to Fiore's? No, we are fine with our current snowman pushing yogurt to us.

Shabu Shabu House

"Let's go to Shabu Shabu House! Let's go to Shabu Shabu House!", was about all I heard from J. after I linked her to some stellar reviews from yelp.com about this J-town (aka Little Tokyo) joint. After two weeks of repetitive "Shabu Shabu House" propaganda from J., I relented in hopes to try and appease her craving.

Located in the shadows of the downtown skyscrapers, Shabu Shabu house sits in the Japanese Village Mall (which is practically all of Little Tokyo). Parking was a bit unorthodox. You pay the attendant at the booth 5 bucks prior to entering the lot, but get reinbursed with validation (2 hrs worth). Dinner starts at 5:30, but it's not unusual for people to show up an hour early to place their names on the 'list'. The place is small and sits about 20 or so guests, so the wait can be looooong. We tried to arrive early, but LA traffic on a Friday evening...forgetaboutit! We got there around 5:35 to an already packed restaurant and signed our names onto the list, behind 10 or so other waiting diners. The waiting list also asks you to place your order as well. The choice was limited: medium beef (10 slices, $12.xx) or large (15 slices, $15.xx). After we marked off 1 medium and 1 large, we decided to walk around the plaza since neither of us had actually been to Little Tokyo before.

Cuts of beef proudly displayed by the entrance.

After 15 minutes of visiting various shops, we decided to head back in fear that our names would be skipped. We waited another 15 minutes outside before the owner, an old Japanese man, came out and called off a few names. They were not present, but we were, so in we went pass the trophy cabinet (pictured above), right by the industrial meat slicer and to our seats.

There was no lag time between seating and eating. We had our own individual pot of water in front of us already boiling. The vegetables, udon, tofu (all included with your plate of beef), sesame and ponzu sauce were already set as well. The meat, freshly sliced, was brought out seconds later and just like that dinner began, before we were even able to seperate our disposable chop sticks.

I don't think there's a conventional method on how to eat shabu shabu. I instinctly took a sip of the ponzu sauce like it was a hot bowl of miso, then mixed my meat with the plate of veggies and ate my salad raw...just kiddddding. I picked up a slice of beef, dipped it into the hot water, wiggled it around until it was no longer red, then dipped it into the zesty ponzu and gobbled it down with some steamed rice. Yummy. I looked over to J. and could tell that the demons in her belly were satisfied...for now.

Dinner was interrupted 3/4th of the way by the check, which was understandable because of the long wait behind us and forgivable because the meal was quite delicious, even though I left feeling half full. I probably could've downed another plate, maybe even two more plates if I was fungry. We still had about 30 minutes of parking left, so we decided to walk around the plaza some more and let our stomachs digest. We got a cream puff at the bakery next door, hoping it was remotely close to a Beard Papa cream puff..."not even close", muttered J. with an almost disgusted look on her face. Minutes later we decided to enter the Fiore's...[to be continued].

Shabu Shabu House
127 Japanese Village Plaza Mall
Los Angeles, CA 90012
(213) 680-3890

La Taquiza

First off, let me admit to not being a fan of Mexican food. Even though I grew up a stone's throw away from East L.A. my palate never quite acquiesced to the floury taste of tortilla, the staple of Mexican cuisine. As a kid I would cringe everytime I found out the cafeteria was serving burritos. Burrito days at school left me with no other option but to skillfully suck my burrito dry with a plastic straw, leaving the deflated tortilla wrap behind. Sad, I know. My sidekick, J., on the other hand LOVES Mexican food. I stumbled upon a food blog dedicated to finding great taco digs in and around Los Angeles. The Great Taco Hunt recently posted their best finds of 2006 and La Taquiza was voted best place to get carne asada tacos. I half-heartedly mentioned to J. that we should drop in and try it out-and just like that we were in the car and headed to La Taquiza before I could finish my suggestion.

Situated a couple of blocks from the University of Spoiled Children (Bruin alum here), La Taquiza sits snugly in the corner of a shopping plaza. The crowd at the taqueria consisted mostly of Hispanics (always a good sign of authenticity) with the occasional maroon and gold-cladded student dropping in for what I'm sure was breakfast for them (~1 pm on a Sat.). I admit, I felt a bit apprehensive when we entered. I don't know if it was the thought of eating tortilla (freshly made from scratch here) or maybe it was the group vato locos that shot me a glare when I entered the joint, like I stepped foot into their territory. J. noticed my uneasiness and asked me what was wrong, but before I could answer, she began to list all the things she wanted to order.

I had J. order because she took 3 years of Spanish in high school, which I find questionable after I heard her order:

J: Dose tacos carnee ay-sada, poor pre poor.
Cook: [Amused look on his face]
J: and one mole-lita.

...

The order went on, excruciating as it was, we ended up with most of our food. The ordering system at La Taquiza works in what I think is a confusing manner. You tell the cook what you want and then move on to repeat your order to the cashier. You then wait for your items to be called, which come out in increments and might be difficult to follow if you ordered an array of items.

Above: Notice that fluffy stuffed-animals enjoy Mexican food as well.

The salsa bar had an array of salsas that you can dress your tacos, burritos, etc. with. They also had pickled jalepenos, pickled carrots and fresh sliced beats to munch on if your mouth gets overheated by any of the salsas.

Above: Shrimp taco and a fish taco drenched in milky sour cream.

I must confess that I took a liking to the tacos here. The carne asada taco was good, although I really have no benchmark to compare it to. J. thought it was a too salty and said it was leagues behind King Taco, the Mexican temple of choice for J. to pay her respects to the Taco God. The taco al pastor, layered marinated slices of pork compressed tightly and roasted on a vertical spit, was a bit salty. The tacos I enjoyed most were the shrimp (del carbon) and the fish taco. The liquidy sour cream mixed with guacamole and topped off with a bit of salsa verde complimented the deep fried fish very nicely.

What about the tortilla, you ask? Well, La Taquiza's made from scratch tortilla is not like the average stain-repellent brand you find at your local supermarket, where any excess liquid will run off and drip out the side of your taco. The tortilla at La Taquiza is more absorbant, the Bounty Extra Strength of tortillas, leaving the sauces to seep into the tortilla and inject it with flavor. It was "aight" and that's just about all you will get out of me.

Thanks to La Taquiza, I now no longer dread my next visit to a Mexican restaurant. This doesn't mean that I'm gonna rush out and stock up on frijoles, just that I will no longer throw a fit if J. or any of my other dining mates suggest a Mexican place to eat at.

Honey's Kettle Fried Chicken

Honey's Kettle brands itself as a "new, old-fashioned company" and me being an enthusiast of oxymorons, I thought I would give this place a brief survey.

With two locations in the L.A. area, Compton and Culver City, my dining date and I (realizing that we left our gats at home) decided to play it safe and venture out to the location in Culver City. Located in the heart of Culver City downtown (yeah, I didn't know Culver City had a downtown either), this place is easy to miss due to the unconventional, diagonally, criss-crossy streets of Culver City.

It was relatively quiet when J. and I entered the place around 2:30 in the afternoon. The place was void of any customers, but that didn't detract us because we've heard so many good things about Honey's fried chicken, plus it didn't hurt that we were fungry! Neither one of us had a bite to eat all day. Luckily, we didn't set ourselves up for disaster because the chicken was finger lickin' goooood! (Oops, wrong place). We ordered the Family Pac (menu)...yes, two people can technically be a family.

The 8 pieces of crispy golden chicken came with 4 pillowy biscuits, 2 sides of fries, a choice of salad (we decided on potato salad), sliced sweet dill pickles and extra honey and hot sauce. OK, I honestly was expecting honey to squirt out of the chicken upon first bite, while fending off stray bees, but the chicken was only honey in color. If it weren't for the juicyness of the chicken and the flavorful skin...we would've fired off a letter to Honey's headquarters or (most likely) have eaten the rest of our meal in spite, with occasional growls at the restaurant staff. I had to improvise to make my chicken honeyful.

The real star of the show, in my opinion, was the biscuits, which almost tasted like a thick pancake (J. disagrees with me feverishly on this). Incidently, you can purchase the biscuit batter, which also serves as a pancake and waffle batter at Honey's Kettle (Boo yah, J!). I don't think you can butcher a hot, warm, freshly baked biscuit. The biscuit teamed with "rare" Vermont honey (the same "rare" one I saw on my last visit to IHOP and same "rare" one Costco sells in a 3-pack) and you got a biscuit Yogi bear would drop kick you for.

The fries were nothing out of the ordinary, they should have fried it in the left over oil used from frying the chicken, which I think would turn out sinisterly good. The dill pickles were too sweet and thus ignored, neither J. and I were fans of dill pickles to begin with. We cleared the sweet grease in our throats with a large, freshly-squeezed, ice-cold lemonade, which was very refreshing.

All in all, we devoured 6 out of the 8 pieces of fried chicken, all the fries, the pint of potato salad and passed out in our booth shortly after. Closing time came and we were awakened and ushered out of the restaurant (glad we didn't choose the Compton location).

9537 Culver Blvd.
Culver City, CA 90232
Downtown Culver City
Phone (310) 202-5453
Fax (310) 202-8063