Monday, July 26, 2010
Glad Tidings from New York
Friday, July 23, 2010
Dinner at Tim's
"I love California," my friend said, "but we don't get moments like this."
There was a plate of charcuterie as well: rosemary ham, Toscana salami, and Salmetto salami. I knew there would be several wines later in the evening, but we all needed a cold beer to quench the thirst. We drank cans of Bitburger.
"Don't worry," he said, "this was the only time I will ever eat salmon in my life."
We paired the salmon with a Livio Felluga Terra Alte, a blended Italian white wine with a whiff of pine and hint of citrus. Perhaps I need to rethink how I feel about white wines. This was very good.
It was an outstanding dinner with amazing libations. Sure enough, before the evening was over a rainbow came out, the sky grew dark, and it started to rain, a warm summer drizzle like I have not felt in Southern California in years. The ladies danced in the rain.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Infield
So a couple years ago, when I first heard rumor of the Infield - a baseball-themed hot dog stand - coming to Sherman Oaks, I was excited. My friend Hatcher (my partner in my original extravagant food adventure, the Memphis in May World Championship Barbecue Cooking Contest) and I made plans to check it out on opening day. I picked him up and we headed over to Ventura Blvd only to find a homemade sign postponing the opening. We ate at Fatburger, which was good, but "not anything we really needed to make a special trip for," as he put it.
Then I mostly lived vicariously through other reviews of the Infield. The setup of the place certainly looked cool, but the food didn't look like anything special. The "Twinkie Dog" - a hot dog with fried Twinkies as buns, powdered sugar and Cheez Wiz - just seemed ridiculous. The enthusiasm of driving out to the Valley - one of my least favorite places on Earth - to eat at the Infield slowly faded away.
The other day Elizabeth and I found ourselves out that way, hungry for lunch. It was a hot summer day and the Angels game was on the radio and hot dogs sounded tasty. I suggested we try the Infield.
The patio of the hot dog stand is scattered with tables featuring pictures of MLB stadiums and several actual stadium seats, from places like Angel Stadium, Dodger Stadium, Busch Stadium in St. Louis, and Tiger Stadium in Detroit. Obviously, the table with the Yankee Stadium picture made Elizabeth happy and she wanted to sit at that one. I refused.
There are more than 30 hot dogs on the menu. It took me a couple minutes to decide. Elizabeth wanted a chili cheese dog. I felt like something a little more complicated. I ordered a "West Virginian," with chili, mustard, onions and cole slaw, and a "Brooklyn Dodger," with Swiss cheese, spicy mustard and sauerkraut.
The wait was only a few minutes. The guy working behind the window was very friendly and gladly offered me a refill on my Diet Coke while I was waiting. All three of the dogs were good, but, as usual, Elizabeth made the best call: the chili cheese dog was my favorite. It was the only of the three dogs on which I felt the toppings were adequate. The chili was delicious. The West Virginian was very good, I really liked the cole slaw, but there was hardly any chili on it. The Brooklyn Dodger could have used more of all three toppings.
The fries were the exact fries you would expect at a place like this, but they were cooked long enough to be crispy, which makes them better than average.
Overall, I liked the Infield, but I doubt I will ever go there again. The price for two drinks, three dogs and one order of fries was eighteen bucks and change, which is a pretty nice deal for lunch for two. (The Slaw Dogs would almost certainly cost twice that much.) But, although I liked the quality of most of the toppings, there just weren't enough of them. The wieners themselves were average. The Infield is a cute novelty and if you're a baseball fan, you should definitely check it out. But if it's just quality hot dogs you're after, I can think of quite a few places you'd be better off going.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Panda Inn
Three things affected my love of Panda Inn. First, my high school started bringing in Panda Express for lunch once a month or so. I realized there was very little difference in the quality between the two places. (For those of you readers not in Southern California, Panda Inn is a sit-down restaurant that opened in Pasadena in the early-70s. Panda Express, the fast-casual, mall food court staple with over 1200 locations worldwide, grew out of Panda Inn in the 80s.) The big difference was in the price; a meal at Panda Express cost a fraction of the same meal at Panda Inn.
Second, Yang Chow opened a few blocks away from Panda Inn when I was a teenager. I preferred pretty much everything about the former: the spring rolls, the chicken salad, and all the entrees tasted much better. Family dinners at Panda Inn, which had been a routine, shifted to Yang Chow, and everyone was just fine with that.
And third, when I was 21 I had my first Chinese dim sum lunch in Monterey Park. It was a culinary revelation. This was what Chinese food was supposed to taste like. I started experimenting with dim sum at places throughout the San Gabriel Valley. I took notice of the lack of diversity of the crowds at Panda Inn. It's not hard to draw a conclusion about the kind of palate Panda caters to. At two dim sum joints I visited in Monterey Park, I was the only white person in the house. White chocolate fortune cookies were not on the menu
So years went by without me ever returning to Panda Inn. About a year ago I had lunch there with my mom and thought it was pretty good, although nothing remarkable. (The lunch specials that we both had were a good deal, though.) Just two weeks ago, Elizabeth and I stopped by for lunch only to be told they weren't doing lunch specials that day. We got an appetizer and an entree and I was terribly disappointed by both. I did not plan to ever eat at Panda Inn again.
But some cousins of mine come down this way from the central coast every summer and sail to Catalina for a week. On the night they get back, their routine is the same: they have dinner at Panda Inn and spend the night at my parents' house before heading home in the morning. Two of my young cousins are the age I was when I thought Panda Inn was so great. (Years ago I had Chinese food with them in Santa Maria; it was the worst Chinese food I have had in California. So compared to that, I'm sure Panda Inn seems fantastic.) I have never joined one of these excursions to Panda Inn, but this year I was able to.
There were fourteen of us and we all sat around a large round table in a private room. Other than my cousin Ed's wife, June (who was born in China and makes the amazing egg rolls I described a few months ago), we were all white. As was almost every other table in the building. It was like being at a Utah Jazz game. We started with some appetizers and then ordered several entrees in large, family-size portions. There is a lot of food so I'm going to go through the pictures in small batches.
It was a fun meal at Panda Inn, but that had more to do with the company and the family-style eating than anything relating to the quality of the cuisine. It was certainly fun to see my young cousins enjoy the food like my brother and I did when we were that age. If I'm invited to another dinner with them next summer, I will be glad to attend. But in a valley with the plethora of Chinese options that we have here, most of them cheaper and better, I don't see myself ever choosing to go to Panda Inn again.
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