Since I’ve been back to L.A., I have made a few visits back to Langer’s, including yesterday for lunch. As usual, I’m not disappointed. No matter what I order to eat, I always start off with a cream soda ($2.50). I’m really not a soda drinker, but you can’t tell that from the way I down one glass after another of the cream soda. Yes, Langer’s give free refills. Every time I order this, before I hit the last sip, my server would ask if I want a refill. How could I say no to that? I’ve asked servers at Langer’s on a number of occasions to divulge their secret ingredient (what kind of cream or syrup is used), but they lips are sealed tightly. A waitress once told me that the only ingredient she can tell me is cola. I know traditionally, sweet cream is mixed with cola or your choice of soda, but I have no clue if Langer’s secret is really this simple.

My actual food order was the cup of soup and half sandwich combo ($10.95). I chose my standard chicken noodle with hot pastrami on rye. The chicken noodle soup is filled with thin egg noodles, which I’m happy about, but there are no chicken pieces at all. The lack of chicken meat is probably the only complaint I have about the soup. My friend opted for the matzo ball soup, which I had before, too. I can’t say it’s my favorite, but the matzo ball is quite big and better than some of the others I’ve had. What I really like about Langer’s food is the hot pastrami on rye. Some people just aren’t crazy about the pastrami here and are mystified why fans like myself enjoy it so much. First of all, each slice is a thicker cut than most other sandwich shops. There are some people who prefer layers upon layers of thinly sliced pastrami. If you are one of those people, then you should probably pass on the pastrami here. Due to the thickness of the pastrami here, the layers are smaller, which give some diners the impression that Langer’s is stingy with their portions. I can say that looks are deceiving. I have never been able to finish more than half a sandwich at Langer’s. The pastrami here is also surprisingly lean and well seasoned. In addition, the rye bread is very good, too. I enjoy the flavor of the rye, as well as the crunchy crust. If pastrami really isn’t your thing, there are many other choices. I recommend the brisket of beef sandwich ($14.25) and tenderloin skirt steak sandwich ($15.95).

Langer’s is right on the corner of 7th and Alvarado, right across the street from MacArthur Park. There is a parking lot on 7th and Westlake. Langer’s will validate.

Langer’s Delicatessen
704 S. Alvarado St
Los Angeles, CA 90057
Phone: (213) 483-8050
Mon-Sat 8am-4pm

It seems like I have always been out of town for the festival, so I am looking forward to this one.

Here is Rene’s write up of last year’s festival.

Two buck tamale!

Hat tip to Erin’s Kitchen for the information on the LA Tamale Festival. Since I don’t live too far away, I decided to check it out.

Check out the LAFB post about last year’s Tamale Festival.

The event is on 7th Street near MacArthur Park.

Like any festival, there are colorful items sold in vendor tents.

Got to wash down those tamales with some ethnic drinks! The drink I had was $2 and was a blend of red punch and sweetened condensed milk and ice.

The chefs hard at work making things for hungry customers. There are, of course, other things besides tamales.

I got my fill of tamales and bought some extra (TEN!) to take home for future lunches and dinners. Tamales cost $2 or $3 depending on type.

The festival continues the rest of Saturday night and on Sunday.

WHEN:
November 10, 11 & 12, 2006
Friday: 3pm - 8pm
Saturday:10am - 9pm
Sunday 11am - 6pm

WHERE
MacArthur Park - Mama’s Hot Tamales Cafe
2124 West 7th Street, Los Angeles, Ca 90057
Between Parkview & Alvarado Street on 7th Street

I love to cook. You’ll probably find me in the kitchen at least five nights out of seven, concocting the evening’s meal for my husband and myself. As a full-time writer, I also work from home, so that affords me the luxury of being able to devote a fair amount of time to this gratifying yet sometimes time-consuming endeavour.

So, that means I also devote a lot of my time to perfecting certain dishes. That, in turn, means that there are some menu items I feel I do so well at home that I wouldn’t dream of ordering them when I am out, for fear of disappointment. I’m talking about meals such as Risotto, Osso Bucco, Roast Chicken, various Salmon entrees, Crêpes…

French Toast is definitely one of these dishes.

I defy you to direct me to a restaurant, hotel or breakfast place that can deliver a better version of french toast than I can whip up, quite easily, in my own kitchen.

There are a couple of secrets to my success, which I am happy to divulge.

First off, you have to start with good brioche. Not just any brioche, mind you, but “pain brioché� or Brioche Loaf. I’m talking about the incredible fluffy, soft and yellow, high crumb content, enormously long loaf I get from LA Bread and Bakery, on Los Feliz Blvd.

Now, this is generally something you have to pre-order the day before you pick it up. Also, it is a huge loaf and I always slice and freeze about 3/4 of it. So, you can either pre-order it and pick it up the day you are making your brunch, or you can order it in advance and have it in the freezer for when you need it. Like all bread or cake when frozen, it probably wouldn’t keep much longer than a month or two. But I couldn’t say for sure because whenever we have it in the house, it doesn’t last that long anyway. You can toast it from frozen or have it on hand for entertaining or special brunch mornings. I recommend you thaw the slices for about 20 minutes before making french toast with it.

My tried and tested recipe for Brioche French Toast goes as follows:

Ingredients for two persons:

3 eggs
decent quantity of milk (about ¾ of a cup, I think)
a good splash of dark rum (I like Jamaican varieties, and Myers’s (sic) Dark Rum is a good one)
1 teaspoon or more of vanilla essence
Four thick slices of brioche, approx ½ an inch thick

Method:

Whisk your egg and liquids together in a shallow bowl.

Get your frying pan good and hot (but not too hot – medium-high heat)

Drop in a pat of butter – if it browns too quickly, your pan’s too hot

Now dip both sides of your brioche slices briefly into the egg mixture – take care not get them too sodden or they will fall apart when cooking and will taste too eggy – and immediately toss them into the pan.

Fry once on each side until golden brown. If you get the thickness of your slices right, as well as the pan temperature, the middle won’t be cold or seem uncooked.

Serve straight off the pan with fresh fruit of your choice, such as blueberries or thinly sliced strawberries, and take a minute to warm your maple syrup. You’ll be glad you did. This delicious meal goes especially well when paired with a strong cappuccino.

LA Bread and Bakery
3119 Los Feliz Blvd, LA, CA, 90039
nearest cross street is Edenhurst Avenue, just East of the 5 Freeway
323 662 8600

Brioche loaf is $18.00
available fresh on Mondays, or when you pre-order, but do call first.

::STOP PRESS::

Trader Joe’s also have a decent and affordable “pain brioché.â€?

I’ll say it again, Fatburger. The Last Great Hamburger Stand.

I sparked velvety dissention a while ago by soliciting people for their favorite burger joint, not a national chain. Of course, I violated my own criteria by throwing down for Fatburger, reasoning that even though they are growing through many states, and now even have an East Coast presence, they were still limited in overall markets.

Saying that my favorite burger is Fatburger, by implication, means In ‘N’ Out is not my favorite burger. This is frightening heresy to someone from Southern California, but I’m not from Southern California. Yancey Lovie opened the first Mr. Fatburger on the corner of Western and Jefferson in 1952. It has been an institution in LA since then, but honestly obscured by the reputation of In ‘N’ Out.

In a time where internal politics threatens to charbroil the good name of In ‘N’ Out, and the struggle over whether to extend the franchise beyond its cloistered borders, in 1986 Fatburger had already adopted a Machiavelian doctrine of expansion.

Fatburger’s manifest destiny has not sullied nor faded the quality of their burgers, at least not the original locations dotting Los Angeles like yellow pushpins. I haven’t eaten at any of the locations outside of California. Couple to that Magic Johnson’s policy of investing back into the South Central community, proving there is a great deal of profit to be made by investing in lower income areas. Yet, other high profile entertainers are also quietly looking into franchising up and down the East Coast.

While In ‘N’ Out strives for historical purity by not changing its menu, there is a secret menu of modifications that every Californian knows. Its sort of an inside joke to play on the tourists that will never know to order a double-double animal style. Fatburger’s only not-well-kept-secret is you can order it grilled or char-broiled.

Fatburger also has its own tradition known as the Triple Kingburger Challenge. Anyone who finishes a triple Kingburger (1 1/2 pounds) within six minutes wins a T-shirt, free meals for the week and their picture on the Triple Kingburger Challenge Wall of Fame.

Another important distinction is the toppings offered by Fatburger. Of course, I’m talking about the fried egg and chili. Tommy’s may be known for the most widely proliferated chiliburger in LA, but it is also reviled as the worst. In fact, the chili at most burger places leaves much to be desired. Fatburger’s chili is rich, spicy and dense with flavor.

That translates to the chili cheese fries also. Fatburger gets it right every time: they do not drown your food in the chili, after all, it is the meat you want to taste, otherwise you would just buy a bowl of chili. They confidently ration all condiments in perfect portion, so nothing ever overpowers anything else. In many burger chains, all the flavors are competing against each other for dominance of your tastebuds.

There are just so many unique qualities that separates this patty of meat slapped between a bun from all the other chains, but the quality is almost intangible. Everybody offers lettuce, tomato, mustard, pickles, onions.

It’s the atmosphere. It’s the fresh ice cream used in the dreamy shakes. The lemonade swirling through the plastic lemonade machine. Fresh, never frozen, meat. The shaker of salt they sprinkle on the patties while they’re cooking. The fries at absolutely trounce In ‘N’ Out fries.

And their complete lack of advertising. I’ve lived in LA for eight years. Unless I’m blind and/or deaf, I’ve never heard an ad for Fatburger.

So, Fatburger vs. In ‘N’ Out. In ‘N’ Out is clearly dominant, and I started to ask myself why. I’ve eaten both in the same day to make a comparison, and I never got that turned on about the In ‘N’ Out burger. What could have catapulted In ‘N’ Out over Fatburger, a clearly superior product.

I’m going to play the race card. It is my assertion that because Fatburger was located in predominantly African American communities, owned and operated by a black woman, it didn’t get as widespread exposure as In ‘N’ Out did until recent years.

But, it’s really not a race deal, it’s about location. Whites simply weren’t exposed to a Fatburger in their neighborhoods until the 80’s. Blacks had been savoring Fatburger since 1952, hoping, I’m sure, to keep the secret to themselves. All good things eventually get out and expand, and that’s exactly what happened with Fatburger.

How did a white guy from the East Coast learn about Fatburger before he even got to LA?

No helicopter looking for a murder,
Two in the morning got the Fatburger,
Even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp
And it read ‘Ice Cube’s a pimp’

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t dislike In ‘N’ Out, I just don’t have that clingy nostalgia that clouds my judgment in these matters. For that, I have White Castle.

Over the last couple of years, Siete Mares has become my favorite Mexican seafood restaurant. They have several locations throughout greater Los Angeles, but I’ve only been to the one on Sunset. Nothing fancy, but the fish is fresh and the salsa is always surprising because it is never the same. Its not elitist, but it is not a hole either. It falls somewhere in between, leaning precariously closer to hole than haute. I don’t know what the turnover rate is in the kitchen, but it means there is always a fresh take on pico de gallo.

First, let me get this out of the way: I have a beef, which means a rant for you.

There are a growing number of seafood restaurants that offer crab. Siete Mares has a combination platter, which offers a panoply of fried goods piled on a plate. Accompanying that are a few sauteed…uh, logs…of…um…crab? Burned again. What I thought was crab turned out to be Asia’s greatest deception against the West: K-rab.

What is this living nightmare, K-rab? There is not a breathing human that believes this cut rate pollack mush is low grade carrion, let alone crab. The idea -the very notion- of finely grinding a fish, squeezing it out like telephone cable, and air brushing it red, is absurd, laughable, and teetering precipitously close to personal insult.

I propose a law, which, if Schoolhouse Rock taught me correctly,

needs to jog a labyrinthine process of cajoling, hand-wringing, and consultations with Jack Abramoff, in its long and arduous gestation period.

Any food that lists ‘crab’ as an ingredient that is not real crab shall be banned, and the supplier fined $10,000 and imprisoned for up to 15 years without parole. Punishment would be further envigorated by a strict diet of surimi for the entire term.

There is no greater disharmonious miscarriage of nature, than manufacturing a fish product you can unravel like a fruit rollup and write a will on.

Now that I got that off my chest, you have been duly warned. All the crab is K-rab. The one exception is their namesake. The ubiquitous Seite Mares, the Mexican BoooYa Base. In it, you will find a plump, real crab, shell and all.

Now you can enjoy yourself! Siete Mares, as the name implies, specializes in seafood. There is a consistent thread among Mexican style seafood, and they cover all the themes.

Cocteles, which are large seafood cocktails served in a schooner glass. You know, the one they try to upsell you in Bennigans, equating to an extra five dollars for three ounces of beer. Well, it doesn’t matter here, you are getting 20 ounces of seafood in a cold tomato soup base, augmented with onions, cilantro, spices, cucumber, avocado and tomato. It is fresh, inviting, and filling. Each one runs about 10 bucks. One thing I like about Siete Mares are the paleolithic slabs of cucumber and orange that seem to accompany everything, including Tecate.

They have cheap ceviche appetizers: whole tortillas with a liberal mound of seafood, whether it is fish, shrimp, K-rab (why, oh, why) or octopus. Each runs about 3-4 dollars. You can get the entree portion for 10 bucks a pop, but I couldn’t eat that much ceviche, could you? Some things are best in small bites.

You can get all forms of shrimp: Shrimp Veracruz, shrimp diablo, shrimp mojo de ajo, shrimp ranchero. Veracruz, now that is something that would be banned on any high school menu. Bacon wrapped, cheese stuffed, deep fried shrimp. You bet its healthy!

However, I have a new favorite dish, which veers 180 off the chart for this or any place. Molcajete. Named after the spanish word for mortar and pestle, this stew is served in a volcanic rock basin.

They don’t screw around. This thing is so hot, it’s like you planted your face in a steam vent. I dropped my napkin on it. It burst into flame. Spilling out of the mouth of Pele is a boiling cornucopia of shrimp, chorizo, mexican cheese and a cactus leaf. Binding the seafood and meat is a stew base that is dense, palpable, and feverish with tumultuous flavor.

The Molcajete is simulteneously hellish and divine, angrily simmering the whole time I carefully picked through the food. Each splatter is like napalm, and cutting a skittish piece of cactus is a skill developed that I haven’t quite mastered. The Molcajete is a grand paradox, comfort foot yet little comfort in eating it. It is Frankenstein’s monster, parts netted from the sea, ground meat rended from the land, a block of diary, and a strange vegetable choice I’m not convinced can be considered a vegetable. Together, it is an otherworldly stew that will surprise, confound and overwhelmingly satiate.

I’m serious when I say this thing is hot. Thirty minutes later, long after onions slowly weep their way to an oily death on a dank fajita plate, the Molcajete is still steaming and hot to the touch.

When I order fajitas at my local sexually ambiguous national chain, Boobz, the waitress comes out in a tank top, short shorts, welding mask and tungsten-chromium reinforced apron and gloves. Before serving I have to sign,

in triplicate, an agreement that will indemnify Boobz against damages, and hold them harmless should I (hereafter referred to as The Customer): burn, sear, char or otherwise conflagrate myself while in the commission of my dinner thereof. I sign the papers on her butt and she scuttles off.

You could never serve something that bold and hot in a national chain, with the fear of constant litigation due to the occassional, itinerant cockroach in the salad, let alone someone losing their face in a rocky crater of boiling stew.

Despite the risk, he seems to be having a good time.

This tragic smile serves as an indelible barrier to the presidency.

I know its out of the way for most of you, but if you’re in my ‘hood and heading toward Spaceland or Silverlake Lounge, you are not too far away. You can’t miss it, it is big, orange and blue. It also has a convenient outside cash-only stand, and parking fo’ free.

El Siete Mares (The Seven Seas)
3131 W. Sunset Blvd.

Dommy! writes:
“As a life long Dodger fan, the state of the eats at the park are at an all time low… King Taco is no longer there and they got rid of some of the premium dogs (I still get a Dodger Dog for old times sake, but DOUSE it in browns mustard, onions and relish…). Thankfully they do let you bring in outside food and I have a backpack which is the PERFECT side to smuggle in a couple of Bay Cities Deli Godmothers and a large bag of Jalapeno Kettle Chips without being denied by the ushers…”

If you plan to buy concessions in the stadium, the Dodgers site has a list of vendors and their locations. Chowhounders recommend:

Dodger Dogs… but only half-heartedly (on the Pavillions, Field, Loge, Club, Reserve and Top Deck)
Gordon Biersch’s garlic fries (Field level)
Soft Serve Ice Cream (Field, Lodge, Club levels)
…and don’t get fountain drinks on any level since they tend to be pre-poured, and therefore, watered down

If you are bringing food with you into the stadium, there is some agreement about the best places to pick up nearby eats, pre-game:

BBQ King
(a.k.a., The Original Texas Barbecue King)
867 W Cesar E Chavez Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90012

Phillipe’s
1001 North Alameda Street
Los Angeles, CA 90012
(get the french dip sauce on the side!)

If you choose to carry in your own eats, one Chowhounder warns that you can’t bring your food in a bag larger than 14″, or you may get sent back to your car. Another said he’s had no such problem with the guards this season. The official website says: “Food is permitted from outside the stadium provided it is not in bottles, cans, coolers or thermoses. Unbroken, factory sealed plastic bottles of water and other non-alcoholic beverages of 1 liter or less are permitted.”

Complete security guidelines exist for what you can and cannot bring into the stadium. They are certainly worth checking if you don’t want to spend the night eating b-b-q in the front seat of your car.

For even more information see the ChowHound Los Angeles thread Dodger Dogs? Anything else edible at stadium?

Photo credit: hexod.us