Edendale: There is Food There Too.

Edendale Grill
2838 Rowena Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90039 (323) 666-2000

www.edendalegrill.com

So incensed was I at the hipster take over of the Edendale that I forgot all about what we ate! And perhaps not to bad effect. One never goes to the Edendale for the food.

With some of our favorite people in town from Lake Havasu, ex-Silverlakers, we wanted to stick close to the neighborhood and eat somewhere relaxed, so we headed for the patio at Edendale Grill. Hands down, best outside eating area on the east side, maybe in all of LA.


I have done 5 hour Sunday brunches, closed down the bar more nights than I can count, Mothers' Day, birthdays, and so on into infinity. A balmy fall evening is one of my favorite times here. The atmosphere is somehow magical. No one is hurrying you to leave the table, the service is decent even if the food is suspect.


I love the lights, the trees, the fact that you will drive past the restaurant 5 times and still miss it if you do not know exactly where it is.

There is so much history in this grill. The owner, Melanie Tusquellas (who also now owns the slightly refurbished El Chavo on Sunset) has imbued the decor with pics and artifacts that belie very early Hollywood's strong presence in the neighborhood. Edendale itself is housed in an old firehouse, the bar is where there main engine was kept, as is evident by the huge swinging double doors.

This used to be the front entrance to a firehouse, circa 1925. And onto the food:

First out were the infamous meatballs. These are maybe the best tasting thing on the menu. The sauce is slightly spicy, and the herbed ground beef and sauce are covered in melty mozzarella, baked in the dish.

Next stop were the salads. The above Caesar was decent, but not even a trace of anchovies. I don't remember ever having eaten a Caesar here before, so I am unclear whether this is their recipe or the kitchen just ran out. But a Caesar needs that fishy kick, IMO. This cannot even come close to touching Pat's recipe.

I loved the flavors in my arugula and fig salad. Fresh arugula, lots of figs, thick rich balsamic vinegar, chunks of bacon and ricotta cheese sprinkled throughout. However, the pantry chef must have been asleep on the job. The arugula was served, literally, in little branches. I tried to put some of this on D's plate, but when I dug in the entire salad moved because the branches were interconnected like layers of plant life in a rain forest.

In order to eat the arugula, I had to lift an entire branch and chew the leaves off with my teeth. I suppose I could have cut each leaf off with my fork and nibbled at it in a more civilized manner. I have two issues with that approach: 1) separating the leaves from the branches is not MY job, and 2) it would have been far less interesting to watch.

C orders mac n' cheese almost wherever he goes, T says. Mainly I think he likes to know if there is another one anywhere that measures up. I know C's cooking, and I am guessing there is not. This one failed the test. T wonders why he does this, subjecting himself to inferior mac n' cheese. I will posit he does so because even bad mac n' cheese is still mac n' cheese.

This one was extremely reminiscent of Kraft Shells and Cheese from the box with the pre-made cheese sauce in the foil package. You know the one.

There is one word for my roast chicken: weird. Roast chicken is a favorite of mine. This one was dry and weirdly crispy on the outside, reminiscent of deep fried turkey. C touched it, tasted it and decided all the other entrees were ready and this one was still pink in the center. So the cook did what cooks all over the world in lesser restaurants do and dropped it in the fryer real quick to finish it off. Not good but not horrifying. Just ok. The kale it sat on was delicious.

Blue nose bass, by all accounts was ok. D says this am, "It was ok. The food there is ok. The atmosphere is awesome."

C's pulled pork sandwich was dry, without a lot of zing.

And I have the same problem with the bleu cheese fries I always have. The bleu cheese is not melty. I like my cheese fries to have a melty cheese, so the fry itself gets slightly sticky. It's a prerequisite for a cheesy fry.


It was a beautiful night, in good company with lovely and accommodating service and an entertaining floor show people watching. There is nothing I enjoy more than a beautiful southern California night with my friends who know me the best. I could eat cheese and crackers sitting on the front porch stoop and have a smile on my face.

An Anniversary at Ella in Sacramento

Randall Selland is a much needed culinary maverick in Sacramento, Ca. He initially opened the wonderful Selland's market on H Street between mid-town and the Sac State neighborhoods. Selland's has a gourmet deli with reliably delicious prepared foods, a small grocery section and a small but impressive boutique wine shop.

http://www.thekitchenrestaurant.com/sellands/index.html

Next, he spearheaded the opening of The Kitchen restaurant on Hurley Ave. The Kitchen offers demonstration dinners, with only one seating a night serving a maximum of 50 people. The Kitchen is renowned for the quality of its ingredients, the execution of its menu and the attentive and personal service. It is now considered to be the best restaurant on Sacramento, and high on the list of destination restaurant in all of California.

http://www.thekitchenrestaurant.com/dinner/index.html



To celebrate the 10th anniversary of the night we met, the Dear Husband (DH) and I decided to dine at Ella, the third star on Selland's expanding constellation of exciting offerings in Sacramento. Ella is located downtown in the least seediest section of rundown K Street mall, right around the corner from both of Sacramento's nicest hotels, the Hyatt and the Sheraton Grand. Because I knew I was going to be in town on business for an entire week around this special date, I made the reservations more than a month in advance. We were so much more than not disappointed.



The atmosphere and decor of Ella is a cross between a Parisian Street market and the lobby of the Delano hotel in South Beach, Miami. Sheer white curtains hang from the ceiling, imparting a fresh breeziness to the open room and high ceilings.



The upper walls and ceilings are covered in purposefully shabby shutters of various dark shades. Large, stacked work tables at various places are covered with baskets of cutlery, piles of linen, and glass jars of lovely white flowers. We dined close to one of the worktables, and the heady smell of stock was a lovely late-springtime influence on the atmosphere.



To start our meal, we shared halibut, shrimp and scallop ceviche with wild arugula and yucca chips. Wonderful, light and acidic just the way a ceviche should be and well balanced by the sweet starchiness of the yucca chips. You don't see any yucca chips because the DH inhaled them.



The grilled calamari with garlic marinade and potato radicchio salad followed. The squid had some nice spice on the outside which made them ever so slightly spicy, and the potato salad was very very simple. You could really taste the potato, they were not drowned in a vinegary sauce or a heavy mayo. And the dish had a perfect tube to tentacle ratio on the plate.



On to the main event! If there is ever a side dish of artichokes anywhere near a restaurant I am eating in, I must have them. I must. I ♥ artichokes! And this side dish was delectable. Baby spring artichokes with monte olive oil, garlic, thyme and basil. There was some foam. In any restaurant worth its salt these days, there is foam. Foamy, foamy foam.



For a main curse, DH ordered the beautiful halibut. This halibut was served pan roasted with a nice crispiness, with giant rock shrimp, dill and English pea tortellini. This was just a wonderful combination of flavors and textures. I liked it very much.



I ordered the Petaluma chicken breast. I know the rule of thumb when eating at a restaurant known for stellar cuisine is to NOT order chicken. But, but, but. I love chicken. And our waiter assured me the chicken here is a sleeper hit, cooked sous vide with fava beans, English peas and wild mushrooms. It was tender, it was juicy, the accompaniments were yummy. It tasted just like chicken. Good chicken.



If you have been following my blog, you have know that I have recently eaten in some great restaurants with mixed reviews. Some important element has gone awry the last few times. Happily, Ella was firing on all cylinders. The food was breathtaking and the service could not have been more perfect. Our waiter was attentive and amusing but not overly present. He timed each course to perfection and kept the champagne ice cold and the glasses just full enough. I wish I remembered his name because I would like to write a letter to the manager telling them what great job he did and how much I enjoyed his service. It was truly a perfect evening in every way.

And the Lakers won. It doesn't get better than this.

Perfecting the Arts of Chicken & Food Photography

http://stilllifewith.com/

One of my favorite bloggers has a small site dedicated to furthering one's skill at food photography. I have been reading her suggestions and taking them to heart. It is challenging, however, when one gets a new camera, to figure out where everything is located, how everything works and what are the great and unique special features. I thought to stave this off by buying another Canon, but this one really is almost nothing like my last one. And for some reason I refuse to both read the instruction manual or bring it along with me on my travels. I liken this to a man's refusal to ask for directions when hopelessly lost and driving around Beverlywood in circles. We will find our way eventually, and no one is in a hurry. Customizing the white balance for a particular location will make these shots look better? I will figure out where the controls for the white balance are eventually, and who cares if the lighting in some of my shots is orange. I am not in a hurry, and this is all for the sheer joy of it. If this was my full time job, I would call it a job not a blog. So, I am plodding along, with the furthering of my digital photography expertise advancing slowly. Very slowly.


My mother Mary is visiting, and she is an amazing cook. I know everyone says their mother is a great cook, and everyone means it. But my mother really is a great cook. It's her art form. She has even constructed a cookbook of her most infamous and well loved recipes from years gone by. Oxtails, French onion soup, carrot cake (the brown kind, not the orange kind) with cream cheese frosting, sun dried tomato & goat cheese kreatopetes, Chez Panisse's brined Thanksgiving turkey, three different kinds of watercress salad, pork in lime cream sauce, pasta primavera, peach melba, Yorkshire pudding and eggs mornay. Etc. Everything is made from scratch and her attention to the details of a recipe would impress chemists the world over. Luckily for me, part of her mission in life is to cook for others wherever and whenever she is, and this weekend she was at my house.

On the menu this weekend was chicken stuffed with Lucy & Ethel's homemade pesto, creamy polenta and roasted mushrooms stuffed with feta and bacon.

Her capable hands stuff one massive portion of the homemade pesto (made at Sue's using home grown basil, hand grated parmesan, 2 quarts of olive oil and then packaged into pint size zip locks bags and distributed among several lucky offspring) into and under the skin of one 4.5 lb organic free range chicken.



The smell....the smelll...the sssssmmmmmmmeeeeeeelllllllll.......




Creamy polenta (cornmeal) on the stove. On our way home from shopping and drinking on the westside we stopped into a Von's for a few items and they did not have polenta. Wth? It's the WESTSIDE. Isn't every grocery store on the westside a gourmet mecca? I have some seriously misinformed misconceptions about life on the westside. There was no polenta, and it was too close to nap time to visit one of my favorite grocery stores on the eastside, so we settled for cornmeal. Add fontina and asiago to anything and it is worthy of consumption, in my opinion.



I tossed together some leafy greens and watercress (natch) with dried cranberries, pine nuts and bleu cheese crumbles, with some balsamic vinaigrette (NOT vingarette, just saying).




And, we supped.



This is what we drank, a Carver Sutro 2004 Petit Syrah, courtesy of mum...it was delicious!




But wait!!!! What about the mushrooms? After extended naps and wine tasting at Rosso, we felt it was too late for appetizers AND mains, so we (she) made the mushrooms for breakfast Sunday morning.

most.delicious.food.ever.(maybe)

In San Francisco last weekend meeting friends, we stopped in at the South Market wine bar and restaurant Bacar for a quick meal. I have been there once, and remember it being a nice meal with an excellent wine list, but I do not remember being of this caliber. This meal was the best meal I have had in a long time. Interesting choices, well prepared and cooked meats, top class service and consideration...I was really floored by the experience.

http://www.bacarsf.com/



We started with a beautiful bottle of 2004 pinot noir from hope & grace vineyards, it was great. Full bodied for a pinot, deep and delicious but not overpowering in the company of chicken and fish. Love the balloon glasses, I could drink diet coke or coffee out of these daily.


Because you never see this rustic and earthy item on a menu in California (I never have, as a dish unto itself anyway) I HAD to order the bone marrow. It was delectable, silky and luscious...a treat after all the walking of the past two days. I spread it on the wheat bread crostini it came with and it was perfect with sprgs of parsley to add a touch of grassy green flavor.



My constant dining and sleeping companion ordered the "warm mushroom salad", which was a misnomer. It was really a frisee au lardons, with warm wild mushrooms and butter lettuce added to the frisee. It looked gorgeous, and he swears it was yumminess. Two pics, one for the presentation and one for the good bits at the bottom!

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For mains, I ordered the oven-roasted chicken and he ordered the salmon. Both were exceptional. The chicken was perfectly cooked, juicy with crisp skin served over a genius bed of chicken livers, warm green grapes, slivered green beans and candied walnuts with a reduced chicken jus...and along the side of the plate was a pureed sauce of walnuts and bread, soft an subtle flavor, warm homey texture. I would fly back to SF just for this dish. Why do I love chicken so? It tastes....just like chicken.



The salmon seemed well paired if not well cooked. Not well cooked for a barbarian, anyway. My companion cannot eat any meat that is not cooked within an inch of charcoal So he sent back the lovely slightly pink salmon so they could scorch it to his liking. It came back served over lovely little fingerling potatoes and honeydew melon. I love the idea of pairing the salmon with the honeydew..sweetness and light with that unique flavor and fatty texture of salmon. Nice. I didn't taste it because I don't always want to share food. Usually because I order what I want to eat. I see no reason to share. Unless yours looks better than mine.



Last but not least was the cheese course (for me) and the chocolate "looks like a gooey pile of sugary junk from Ralph's" dessert for him. I never understand this type of dessert. If I want chocolate, I want something simple like a chocolate mousse or chocolat pot de creme. Whatevs! My cheese was great, some kind of tomato rubbed pecorino.