Porta Via

I've written about Porta Via before, about their pre-cooked pizzas. I've gone to Porta Via many times with my friend Tracie for cups of coffee on the patio and when they first opened a couple years ago there were two or three Saturdays when I picked up some food to eat with my dad during UCLA football games. But I've never actually sat there and had a meal. I've always known it would be good - everything I've had to-go has been great and the place is always busy when I'm there - but I've just never done it. (And yet I have no problem driving to Wienerschnitzel to eat mediocre hot dogs. I'm a moron.)

A couple days ago I stopped by with Elizabeth's sisters to have some lunch before I took them on a mini sightseeing tour of Pasadena. ("That's the house I grew up in, that's where I went to high school, that's where Hooters used to be, and, uh, that's about it.") Porta Via has a great selection: in addition to about twenty different kinds of sandwiches, there is an impressive salad bar and dozens of other items available, from pastas to meatballs to my favorite: tri-tip marinated in red wine and rosemary. Kate and I both ordered sandwiches, while Dawn ordered the baked ziti.

It took about fifteen minutes for our food to be ready. We sat by the window and had some cold drinks. I had a San Pelligrino limonata - a sour, sparkling soda. The girls split a pomegranate soda. "Take a picture of me with the soda and put it on your blog," Kate said. I explained that I don't use pictures of people, that I like to keep it just about the food. But she really wanted me to. That seemed like a simple enough request, and besides, it was the day before her 21st birthday, so I told her I would.

My panini was the Autostrada: mortadella, prosciutto, soprasatta, coppa, provolone, and pepperoncini. It was outstanding. Pepperoncinis are one of my favorite condiments on a sandwich, something I think is not used nearly enough. I ate half the sandwich and felt myself getting full, but it was so good I ate the rest of it.

Kate had a panini with roasted vegetables and a balsamic reduction. She liked it very much, although she could only eat half and took the rest home with her. Dawn liked the ziti, but not the crusty pieces of pasta at the top. I did not try either of their items, since I was so full after eating mine, but they both looked good.

I always knew I would enjoy eating at Porta Via, and I did. I've bemoaned the fact that so many non-chain restaurants fail in this town. It's nice to see an independently-owned place succeeding.

Pollo Campero

I've heard about Pollo Campero for many years: the stories of people lugging back bags of fried chicken on airplanes from Guetamala when there were no U.S. locations; the several-hour wait at the first location to open in Los Angeles; that same location serving thirty thousand customers during its first week. The stories all sounded somewhat apocryphal, but - as often happens with such things - I was intrigued. But not enough to make an effort to visit a location. None of them are very close to me, and there is only so much enthusiasm I can muster for a place I've heard described as "a better version of KFC or Popeye's."

A couple nights ago, however, Elizabeth's sisters were flying in from New York at about 9 PM, so I suggested we try the Pollo Campero in the shadow of Burbank airport before we picked them up. Never one to pass up fried chicken (or anything else fried, for that matter) Elizabeth agreed.

I ordered a sandwich combo - the "traditional fried deluxe." The deluxe indicates that they put lettuce and tomato on it, costing 30 cents more than the "traditional fried." This seemed a little bizarre, but, whatever. Elizabeth ordered the three piece fried strips meal. We both got fries. After we sat down I remembered that I'd read somewhere that their cole slaw is good, so I went back up and got myself an order of it.

My sandwich was good, but I was expecting a little more. It was nowhere near as juicy and flavorful as I'd been led to believe. But, as I said, it was good - certainly light years ahead of any sandwich I have ever eaten from KFC - and after adding some salsa and a little cole slaw I was really enjoying the sandwich.

Elizabeth only ate two and a half of her strips and gave me the remaining half piece. It was fantastic. This was the chicken I had heard about: moist, tender, and one of the best pieces of fried chicken I have ever had. There was a roll on our tray. You can probably guess what happened next. I tore the roll apart, put the chicken piece on it, and topped that with fries, cole slaw, and some salsa. It was one of the best sliders I have ever had. If Pollo Campero put these on the menu, they would be more famous than White Castle.

I like Pollo Campero, but not any more or less than I thought I would. I definitely like it better than KFC, but I can't say that I like it more than Popeye's, at least not after one visit. I would certainly go there again on my next trip to Bob Hope Airport, but I don't see myself going out of the way for it.

Fast Food Review: Wienerschnitzel Chicago Dog

Years ago, my friend and I embarked on a several-week trip around the country. We laid out a few ground rules before the trip, one of which was that we would eat regional cuisines or specialties whenever we could. We came up with a long list of such foods, one of which was the Chicago hot dog. I'd only been to Chicago once, with my dad when I was 19, and we'd eaten at Pizzeria Uno, which was one of the great culinary disappointments I have ever had, comparable only to Corky's BBQ in Memphis. (I've since heard from friends of mine more familiar with Chicago than I am that there are much better places than Pizzeria Uno.) So I was looking forward to trying this other culinary icon of the Second City.

But when we were in Buffalo, planning where to go on the home stretch of our trip, the Chicago plan was set aside because of another rule of our trip: whenever possible, we would visit a lesser-known city, one that we not likely go to again. (For instance, instead of visiting New York, which I have been to twice since that trip, I instead went up and spent the weekend in New Hampshire and Maine.) So instead of driving down to Chicago, we took a car ferry across Lake Michigan and visited Green Bay, Wisconsin, where we ate at a sports bar in the shadow of Lambeau Field, a place that had three different types of fried cheese on the menu.

I thought of this a couple weeks ago when I saw an ad for Wienerschnitzel's Chicago Dog. Of course something would be lost in translation, but what the hell? I haven't been to Chicago in 11 years and I don't have any plans to visit soon, so I might as well take what I can get.

As soon as I opened up the package I realized this was not exactly a Chicago Dog. Wienerschnitzel claims that the dog is served on a poppy seed bun, like true Chicago Dogs. This was a sesame seed bun. A Chicago Dog is topped with sport peppers, which the website Hot Dog Chicago Style refers to as "an essential topping for any Chicago Dog." The peppers on my dog were sliced jalapenos.

And, according to the same website, celery salt is "the defining ingredient of a Chicago Dog." There was none on this dog. (Although Wienershnitzel didn't promise there would be; I can't decide if that makes it better or worse.)

Now, this dog was pretty good, I will admit. I won't ever get one again, but it was not bad. There was tomato, green relish, chopped onions, and a pickle spear. But it was missing three of the essential ingredients. I don't understand why Wienerschnitzel would try to pretend this is a Chicago Dog. If you run out of the ingredients, just take it off the damn menu. I was hoping this trip to Wienerschnitzel in Alhambra would make me feel like I was eating a hot dog under the L on the South Side, and it failed me.

Or, perhaps, I'm taking a $2.49 hot dog way too seriously.

Central Park Restaurant

In a city with restaurants as transient as Pasadena's, it's often hard to remember what used to be where. But with certain restaurants the reverse is true: no matter what the new establishment, I can't get over the fact that the previous one disappeared. Every time I have a drink on the patio of NeoMeze I fondly remember fish tacos and habanero salsa on summer days back when it was Sol y Azul. No matter what Asian incarnation appears at 58 E. Colorado (Ari-ya, Tani, and now BlueFish), I remember it as the place I frequently dined on smoked turkey sandwiches and spicy fries when it was The Rack Shack. This trend can be taken to the extreme: my favorite restaurant in Pasadena at the moment is Green Street Tavern and I could happily eat there every day, but I can't enter the location without thinking of the magnificent Kuala Lumpur that used to be there.

Central Park Restaurant is a nice place - friendly, reasonably-priced and very attractive inside. But I can't sit inside without remembering the days when it was Soda Jerks. I've never been a big fan of breakfast, but I always loved eating it at Soda Jerks. Years ago, in an autumn following the hottest summer of my adult life, my friend and I decided to go hiking every weekend up in the Angeles National Forest. Every Sunday morning we started with a breakfast at Soda Jerks. I cannot think of a single thing I own that I would not gladly give up to be able to go back and repeat just one of those breakfasts.

Soda Jerks closed four years ago, a familiar story. (They said they would open again soon in a new location but have not - an equally familiar story.) Luckily, though, we did not get a chain restaurant shoehorned into the location, we got Central Park, a restaurant owned by the same people who own longtime local favorites Shakers, Beckham's, Wild Thyme, and Diner on Main. I have been to Central Park a few times for dinner, and it's a surprisingly elegant location, with brick walls and photographs of old Hollywood celebrities.

A couple days ago Elizabeth and I stopped in for lunch. We sat off in a side room, almost like a sun porch, where they seemed to have placed all of the customers at that time. They have a brunch menu that goes until 2 on weekends, but we both felt like having lunch. I ordered the same thing I usually do at Central Park: the barbecue chicken pizza. Elizabeth pointed out that we were having a couple friends over that night for dinner and making pizza, but I didn't care. I could eat pizza for every meal. She ordered the ahi tuna sandwich.

When I've eaten there for dinner, I usually start with an appetizer of their salmon and rock shrimp cakes, which are very good. Also, they have a wine list with several nicely priced wines. (The first time I ever ate here, with my friend Tracie, we shared a 2004 BV Cabernet that cost only slightly more than it would have at BevMo.)

Elizabeth loved her sandwich. I tried a small bite and thought it was good, not great, but I am not the expert on ahi, she is. My pizza was good but not as good as I remember it being. It could have used a couple more minutes in the oven. (Or, perhaps, since this was my first lunch here, maybe I just usually find it better at night after a couple glasses of wine.) It was better than California Pizza Kitchen, but definitely not as good as Avanti Cafe or Crocodile Cafe.

I will certainly return to Central Park again, but I have to say I like it more for dinner. It's more intimate in the evening and better suited to a relaxing dinner than an afternoon lunch.

Fast Food Review: Burger King Angry Original Chicken Sandwich

It was a great weekend. UCLA beat Tennessee. The Angels won their series with the White Sox. For the first time in weeks the mountains didn't look apocalyptic with smoke. And for the first time in at least half a decade I got to see my friend Carla three nights in a row. The only thing that could have made the weekend better would have been if I could have forced Elizabeth to watch a clip of Huell Howser skydiving. (Oh wait - I got to do that, too.)

And it was a great weekend for food. I went out with a friend Friday night, I went to one of my favorite places in Pasadena for lunch Saturday, and Saturday night we had a couple friends over and made pizza on the grill. One of them said it was the best meal of mine that she has ever had. But that's not what I'm here to write about. I'm here to write about Burger King. ("But that's not what I came to tell you about. Came to talk about the draft.")

I'd already decided that I wasn't going to be too harsh on this sandwich. What would be the point? I've written many times about disliking Burger King; I didn't see the need to write any more. It's the same reason I don't make fun of Rachel Ray anymore. It's the same reason I'm not stressing about the Angels losing to the Red Sox yet again this postseason. When you know something isn't going to be good but you participate anyway, you forfeit the right to complain.

Actually, though, this sandwich wasn't too bad. Yes, the "angry" sauce was still not spicy, just like on the other two angry sandwiches I've tried. And the jalapenos and angry onions are still inexplicably bland. But the chicken is much better than the burgers at BK, and I liked this even more than the Tendercrisp. (It also contains a couple hundred calories less than that sandwich, and probably more than that, since I took off the horrible-looking bacon.)

Like the Angry Whopper and the Angry Tendercrisp, trying this sandwich was a one-time thing for me. It's not terrible, but it's not good enough to ever eat again. But if BK comes out with another "angry" item, I am sure I will try that, too.