Thursday, April 30, 2009
Cupcakes.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Santouka Number 81
Monday, April 27, 2009
Lunch Today
Ignore the mess on the plate
Friday, April 24, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
You're Hot and You're Cold
"I feel like sausages is our best option"
Let's Play Footsie


All I wanted to do was get down at Footsie's, however I showed up on a fairly subdued night so I played it cool. But I wanted to run a race around the track of royal red inlaid wall paper that crowns the ceiling. I wanted to drink and dance, and squeeze into black leather studded semi circle booths with five of my closest friends, sloshing ice on the fake wood formica tables. And I definitely wanted the bartender who didn’t know what Scotch was to keep pouring me ridiculous doubles and charge for singles. The enviroment is a seasoned patch of cool where all of these fantasys are sure to take place. And More.
Tucked away on the easterly end of Figeroa, Footsie's is near Mount Washington, on the other side of the tracks (literally, there are tracks) from Echo Park , Atwater, and Silver Lake and actually in Northridge. Footsie's has a similar discreetness to that of the Mandrake with a simple dude at the door , it has a jukebox that rivals Lost and Found’s, and the dark, mysteriously seductive charm of La Poubelle meets the cool of El Prado. Plus there are portraits of topless ladies so everyone wins.
Bedtime Stories
It's Mixology, Man
Last Saturday night, we went to The Varnish. It's downtown, it's in the back of Cole's, it's cloaked in secrecy, it's "old timey," and it's a shrine to mixology. I am a HUGE fan of great bartenders, but something about this movement has gotten a little bit too distilled and syrupy. While the drinks we had were good, piled on top of each other they dissolved into a sugary, acidic excess in the back of my throat. I eventually moved on to scotch on the rocks, a bold and not readily acceptable move in these parts. Mixing things together well is an art, but I fear that in this current mood of master bartender fever craze, their fervent adherence to simplicity, organic, and homemade has led to a rapid overuse, overextraction and perhaps too much mixing. Suddenly, it's not the bartender that I see behind the bar, but the cocky/sulky/chubby/stinky/ eight year old who couldn't get enough candy. I digress, the place is lovely, aside from the underutilized piano. The drinks, are good, in fact some are great like the Brown Derby, or I am sure they make a killer dry martini. Tuesday, April 21, 2009
AROMA WHEEL
