That Bloody Bazouki: Ulysses Voyage

Ulysses Voyage
6333 W. Third St.
Los Angeles, CA 90036
(323) 939-9728

M-Thurs. 11am - 10:30pm
F-S 11am - 11:30 pm
Sunday 9am - 11:30pm
MC, VISA, AMEX

I know the stated purpose of this blog is to explore cheap ethnic eats in LA. I've decided that's both too limiting and too vague. After all, everything is ethnic to someone else, "cheap" is subjective, and I've been doing some extensive research into macaroni and cheese around town that must be published someday soon. But not today.

Today is about a place you probably walk past all the time, little knowing that inside is some of the best Greek cuisine you'll find this side of 5th Century B.C. Athens. I don't know if you can Greek food "ethnic" anymore, when gyros and kabobs and Greek salads are ubiquitous. And anywhere you can get Ketel One probably ain't cheap. But damn, the food here is good, and as carefully prepared and authentically Greek as anything I've had on two visits to Greece.

Here's the dish:

Ulysses Voyage is near the west end of the main drag at The Grove. Not Farmer's Market, thought their website says so. It's in The Grove proper. It's a two minute walk from the movie theaters, less from the Apple Store.

The dining room is small, just a few tables, but it opens out into a spacious heated patio where you can watch the people parade and the trolley go by. Neither the greasy-spoon type of Greek place with Santorini travel posters peeling from the walls nor the over-the-top "atmospheric"
Greek with dancing waiters and plates whizzing past your ears every thirty seconds on their way to destruction, Ulysses Voyage is the type of place you might find on the Plaka in Athens: good, clean, local food done right, with enough atmosphere to evoke a hint of the Aegean. (Translate: one guy on a bazouki playing and singing over the somewhat inadequate sound system).

Ulysses Voyage professes to be "meze" cuisine, which means it's a place to snack on small items over a leisurely beverage -- the Greek equivalent of a tapas bar. But it's actually a full service restaurant with dishes ranging from mezes like olives and feta all the way up to pastas, salads, and rack of lamb.

Ironically, the "meze" here are fine, but unexceptional. The appetizer menu is dominated by an extensive array of hummus- and tzaziki-based dips. At lunch, $10.50 gets you a sampler of any three. Try the Taramosalata, a salmon egg whip that's as Athenian as the Olympics or the Fava beans whipped with eggplant; if you like a little spicy, the Tyrokafteri dip of feta and hot peppers is the trick.

The Calamari Salad ($12.00), is one of the best of this noble dish I've had; the steak is big, tender, grilled to perfection with lemon and paprika on a bed of fresh greens. God I love squid, and I don't eat it enough!

But where Ulysses Voyage shines is in its iteration of classic Greek entrees. The Moussaka ($11.95) is heavenly. The layer of bechamel cream on top is a fluffy, jiggling, two-inch think souffle of the lightest texture; beneath are layers of thin-sliced potatoes, eggplant, and ground lamb baked and spiced. A vegetarian version ($10.95) deliciously substitutes zucchini for meat without missing a beat. The Pastitsio (11.95) -- a deep dish of baked penne dish with ground lamb and bechamel -- is equally divine, and a little heartier. Rack of lamb is tender and juicy. And all the main courses are served with fresh, tasty veggies and the lemon potatoes that every Greek restaurant specializes in, but which achieves apotheosis here. And there's a feta cheese spread that goes on fresh-baked bread that tastes like it must be all butter, but it isn't. Just feta, in healthy Mediterranean style.

Two other things worth mentioning. One is that they do a great brunch. I know, I know, you haven't had brunch since the late '80s: all that cream cheese and hollandaise went out with your size 3 dresses. But you can do a lot worse, calorically, than a Greek omelette. Or even better, if you crave Eggs Benedict every now and again but can't afford to sleep for the rest of the day, try their Artichoke Eggs: sauteed spinach and poached eggs on top of two perfectly- baked artichoke hearts, served Benedict-style. It's both light and decadent.

The other thing we have to talk about is ouzo. Now most of you will wince. You had it once or twice. Ultra-strong, licorice-y, and maybe you got too drunk.

You weren't drinking it right.

In Greece, ouzo is almost universally served over ice, mixed with a liberal amount of water: about one part ouzo to two parts water. The water turns the clear ouzo a pretty, milky white, and from a syrupy batch of lighter fluid to a refreshing late-afternoon drink... really!

Of course if you really can't stand the taste of licorice, there's always that Ketel One.

So... next time you find yourself at the Grove with an hour to kill before that movie, or pooped from fighting the Christmas shopping hordes, step into Ulysses Voyage, and into a little bit of Athens.

I Almost Forgot Dessert! - Mashti Malone's

Mashti Malone's
1525 N La Brea Ave.
Los Angeles, CA 90028
(323) 874-6168

143 N Maryland Ave
Glendale, CA 91206
(818) 662-0400

www.mashtimalone.com
Google Local Map



You folks with sweet teeth must think I hate you. I've been raving on here for over a year, post after post about appetizers and main courses: steak, tacos, sushi, noodles, tofu, you name it... and not once have I mentioned dessert. Fact is, I just don't have a sugar jones. I don't object to desserts, mind you. I dig a cheesecake or creme brulee as much the next foodie. But as a true metrosexual, I like to maintain my girlish figure while keeping a good buzz on, so I' usually pass on that flan at El Coyote (excellent, btw) or the what-the-hell-is that-du-jour at that Korean joint, and head home to spend my calories on a nightcap instead.

Unfortunately for my figure, Mashti Malone's Ice Cream Parlour is on my way home from just about everywhere.

We're zipping up LaBrea, and I see that quirky sign. (The legend is that when two Persian brothers bought the place to sell their exotic ice cream, they could only afford to change the first name on the sign left by the Irish former tenants.) "Mashti!" I scream, and we screech into the skanky parking lot the parlor shares with a skanky liquor store, a skanky laundromat, and The Lava Lounge.

Mashti's has a couple dozen flavors, all made fresh on the premises. There are favorites like chocolate and vanilla, butter pecan, blueberry. And they are really, really good. Award-winning, in fact, as the festoonery on the wall will inform you. But you go here for the Persian ice cream at the far right of the counter.

Made with a base of rosewater, the flavors read like the aromas of a bivouac on the ancient spice road: Creamy Rosewater Saffron, Orange Blossom, Ginger Rosewater. You could get 'em on a cone or cup, but why? You want the full experience, so order a "Mashti." It's a scoop of ice cream squished between two light, sugar-cone style wafers. It's a unique dessert in every way, from flavor to presentation. My wife loves the Ginger Rosewater, though it's a flavor I find odd in a sweet. Give me the Rosewater Saffron with pistachios: yellow like Indian pullao rice, creamy like a good French vanilla, and punctuated with big, juicy nuts.



And the best part is, you can take the experience home with you. Check the freezer in the corner, and you'll find their signature flavors by the pint, as well as plastic-wrapped Creamy Rosewater Mashtis-to-go. Though the sugar wafer is nowhere near as good frozen as it is fresh, they're still a staple in our freezer.

Face it, as long as you're food crazy-ing around L.A., tasting all those diverse ethnic cuisines , you might as well cap it off with a little detour to Persia on the way home. And I see there's a new Mashti outlet in Glendale, too!

The -- Okay, MY -- Final Word on the El Coyote Boycott

The time has nearly come to move further discussion of the El Coyote Boycott off of my food blog, and get back to describing the sweetness of a caramelized onion or a perfectly charred steak. El Coyote has become just one part of a much wider political, social, and legal issue, which I'm interested in and will continue to discuss over at infinitejess.blogspot.com. In fact, if you go there now you can see some pictures and discussion of Saturday's big rally downtown... where I saw quite a few familiar faces from El Coyote.

But since there's been such impassioned discussion on this board, I'll allow myself one last post on the subject.

I feel like I've been trying to be a voice of reason during what has been an emotionally upsetting time for regulars of the restaurant, be they gay or straight, and for the gay community that surrounds it. I truly appreciate the civil dialogue that's cropped up in the comments on my last two posts.

Last Thursday, I had a plan to dine at El Coyote in the early evening, but then heard about the planned demonstration there at 7. After, believe me, a lost night's sleep, I decided that I could support the freaked-out staff of EC and honor the protest at the same time, by showing up long before the protest started (so as not to cross a picket line), and then chatting with arriving protesters, when I left as they were arriving. I was helped in walking this tricky line, and developing coping strategies, by the best political strategist I know. Bly's take on boycotts is a must-read.

My group of six sat at the infamous Tate table (where Sharon Tate ate her last meal the night of her murder at the hands of the Manson Family). Billy, friend to every El Coyote regular, came by our table to thank us for our support in being there on what was going to be a nightmarish shift for the staff. We sucked down margaritas, fortification against the screaming, chanting, and horn-honking that could be heard coming from outside.

When we left, we talked, one-on-one, with some of the 175 protesters. All were understandably angry and frustrated; after all, 52 percent of Californians in our true-blue state had voted to take away equal rights granted to them by the constitution and the Supreme Court of California. A gentleman who gave his name only as Tom said he felt betrayed by manager Marjorie Christofferson's donation to Yes on 8; that whether Margie was an owner or not, his money, spent here over decades, was going to people who voted to taken away his civil rights, and he could no longer support the restaurant. He opined that if Margie was just an employee, she should be fired for her views. I asked if he would be comfortable being fired from his job for his political views. He said, "If I was a white supremacist... yes." This was of course impossible to formulate a suitable response to; there's no denying the emotion of being oppressed. We left, watching a sad scene of protesters harassing confused and frightened folks -- tourists, regulars, whoever -- leaving or trying to enter the restaurant, chanting "shame on you" and other, choicer epithets. As strongly as I feel about the wrongness of prop 8, this, I thought, is clearly not the way to win the hearts and minds of voters.

I went back to El Coyote on Friday night. There were still some protesters out front, maybe a dozen or so. But to my surprise the restaurant was pretty hoppin' inside. It was just... different. A straighter crowd. Much straighter. In fact, the management told me, and my conversations around the restaurant confirmed, that though there were a lot of extra-supportive regulars, like myself, there were also a lot of Mormons and other Yes on 8 supporters coming out to make their own statement.

Ouch.

I don't think this is the desired effect of a boycott.

Backlash against this boycotts has begun, from the most recent comments on my own blog to Tim Rutten's Op-Ed in the L.A. Times to the national media: I watched a debate on CNN
Sunday night where a pro Proposition 8 spokeswoman focused on "the hateful boycotts" and "harassment" of "Mormon employees of businesses" by the gay community. (I won't even tell you what Mike Huckabee was saying on Fox News!) This type of activity allows the H8ers to debate debatable tactics, rather than confront the larger issue of civil rights.

El Coyote has made every possible overture to the community short of "firing" Margie (the founder's niece), by making large donations on behalf of the restaurant to gay charities and even, as reported in the L.A. Times, gay and straight employees gathering personal donations totaling an amount five times greater than Margie's controversial 100 bucks.

Now, I'm not gay and this is not at the deepest level "my battle." Nevertheless, I will humbly offer to those of my fellow El Coyote regulars who happen to be gay this proposition: that El Coyote is not the enemy, it is an old friend, deserving of forgiveness. Do you really want to stay away while El Coyote -- a place where gay and straight used to hang out and speak the truth as only El Coyote margaritas can make you speak the truth -- stay away while El Coyote -- El Coyote??? -- transforms its business model into a hangout for Mormon families and Yes-on-8'ers?

Instead, why not take all that justifiable frustration and turn it into time and money donated to your local Repeal 8 campaign, energy at the phone banks during the next election battle, letters to legislators explaining, simply, that the majority does NOT have the right to deny civil rights to any minority group of law abiding, tax paying citizens.

I urge my gay friends to come back to El Coyote. Spend your time there doing as you have always done: relaxing, getting loose, and chatting -- nicely, please -- with the tourists and youngsters and oldsters in this diverse establishment, be they Mormons from Utah or bigots from the south or local blacks who voted for 8. Tell them how much this means to you. Tell them how human and compelling your stories are. Make El Coyote about what you're fighting for: love, not hate.

Tidbit: Del Crispy Fish Taco

I'm going to have to start posting some smaller items, so that you my readers have material to check out more often than the once a week or less I find time to post a full review with photographs and all. So let me just say this today. Have all of you who love good cheap eats tried the $1.49 Crispy Fish Taco at Del Taco? I know, all the real foodies believe you can't find any really decent food at any fast food establishment. I beg to differ. The crispy fish taco here, while maybe not up to the absolute best you could find in Rosarito or Ensenada, is the real deal. Two flour tortillas, cabbage, a light cream sauce, pico de gallo, and a squeeze of lime. Add some Del Scorcho sauce, maybe a little guac, and you're in Baja, dude. And there's a little something extra. The "Crispy" in the fish taco moniker is no lie, but it's NOT about the shell like you might think. It's the fish fillet. And the batter has a little rice crispy-ish crunch to it that makes for one satisfying taco. While the fish itself may not be quite as fresh and light as the best of Baja, it's not the fish stick you may be fearing. Really, trust me, check it out.

Soon, I'll do a full piece on Del Taco... there are some real delights to be had here, and I'll tell you about my friend Kent's Tuesday Taco Night ritual. It's worth the price of clicking here all by itself.

Taquito Revisitado -- Rodolfo's

Rodolfo's

8 Olvera St
Los Angeles, CA 90012

(213) 625-8501

Google Map

You may recall that some time ago, I posted a near-encyclopedic review of the numerous taquito stands lining the East side of Olvera Street. I concluded that while Cielito Lindo is the most famous, the best was Juanita's Cafe. I apologized at the end of the review for having mis-calculated my taquito intake on the way up the street, and being therefore indisposed to check out Rodolfo's at the top of the street.

Perhaps some of you saw the comment that appeared on the post a few weeks later:

you can't write a taquito review of olvera street without eating at Rodolfo's. Juanitas is good and you are right about the other restaurants, they suck (Luz del Dia excluded) but you started on the wrong side of the street cuz you would've eaten 10 straight up had you eaten at Rodolfo's and your review would have been totally different.i guess what i'm saying is you have yet to eat the best taquitos at Olvera Street... our taquitos kick ass. so come back and ask for Daniel and i'll give you the goods.

I went back to Rodolfo's. Now, even though I'm a blogger, I at least pretend to have some journalistic ethics. I rarely post about a place after only one visit, and I never let an establishment comp me a meal. Not that any have offered. But still, I would never have accepted special treatment from Rodolfo's, despite the invitation. That would not be fair you, my humble readers, who might not receive such preferred taquito treatment.

Besides, "Daniel" wasn't there when I asked for him.

But you know what? Rodolfo's taquitos do, indeed, kick ass. What sets them apart from the other tubes of greasy goodness on the block is the delicacy of the shell. Where Cielito Lindo's taquito is positively chewy, at Rodolfo's the tortilla itself manages to be crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, like a pastry or a perfect french fry. That's no mean feat to achieve in the 1/16th inch width of the flattened-maize medium. Only one small gripe: the stand's photographic menu tantalizingly shows taquitos served with a chunky, fresh guacamole, but it is in fact topped with that very different beast, avocado sauce. But it's a tangy, creamy one with a nice kick so no points deducted.


Add to that Rodolfo's delicious beef filling -- yes, it passes the whole-thing-wants-come-out-in-the-first-bite litmus test for stringy beef -- and Rodolfo's has clearly earned its spot at the top of the Olvera Street.

El Coyote Boycott News

I was out of the office yesterday, and so was unable to report on yesterday's meeting between management of El Coyote and local members of the gay community upset about the revelation that a member of El Coyote's family ownership had made a personal, $100 donation to the Yes on Proposition 8 campaign. I can be saved the time of describing the meeting blow by blow, as there is a factually correct account of it posted on shutupiknow.blogspot.com.

What the report fails to communicate is the level of upset among the El Coyote staff present. Each and every one I spoke to was visibly shaken, some crying openly. Each one stated clearly that although they disagree with Margie's personal position on the issue, that it is not the position of El Coyote as establishment or its management, so they do not understand the boycott. They truly wish everyone could just get along, and allow individuals have their opinions without threatening the well-being of the entire establishment, a gathering place for a uniquely diverse community. I tend to agree with that sentiment.

That said, it is not surprising that the meeting went the way it did, and it need not have done so. One important element is missing from the reportage that helps explain why it turned ugly so quickly. When Sam asked Margie if she would be willing to donate an equal or greater amount to Repeal Prop. 8, she deferred to management. Management stated "We know Margie is so upset about this, and she would take back the donation if she could."

But when Sam pressed his question, Margie refused to donate a C-note to the opposite side, which would have effectively "taken back" the donation. The deeds did not match the rhetoric. I suspect that if Margie had agreed to do this, to put some meat into her apology, the issue would be dead. But, sadly, it is not.

So... while I think the boycott is misguided, and its energy could be directed toward any number of larger, more complicit establishments, I understand and respect the anger and frustration of the community, and the need to make a visible protest of a visible target.

I had plans to dine at El Coyote tonight, at about 7:00... when the protest officially begins. I will honor the protesters by not crossing that picket line. But I will not boycott the restaurant before or after the protest. The gay (and Other) staff, nearly all long-serving, dedicated employees, and truly wonderful people, depend on my dining dollars to feed their families. Suggestions posted elsewhere that employees should "get other jobs" truly don't understand the nature of the restaurant: it is a family place in every sense, where owners, customers, and especially staff treat each other like family. One might as well suggest these employees "get a new mother and father."

You may see me in El Coyote the next few days... you will also see me at the Repeal Prop. 8 rally at City Hall on Saturday. I truly feel that's a more appropriate place to display our displeasure at the passage of Prop. 8.

Politics Meets Food -- The El Coyote Boycott

My novel, MY NAME IS WILL, is a cautionary tale about the danger of mixing politics and religion. I gave our friend Margie, the niece of the owners of El Coyote, a copy last week, but I doubt she's read it yet; now she's learning the lesson the hard way.

Margie appeared on a list of donors to the Yes on Prop. 8 campaign, which has led to calls for a boycott. Now as you know, I spend a lot of time at El Coyote, and I've spent some time here defending its kitchen. I'm going to spend a little more time defending it against a boycott.

Margie is variously described as the owner or the manager of the restaurant in various blogs and e-mails currently making their way around the 'net. My understanding is, she's possibly in line to take over someday; currently just an employee. When questions come up about the menu, or prices, or my and others longstanding request for some seafood, any seafood, she invariably refers us to the managers, Billy or Bobby. Billy and Bobby are both gay. In fact, I'd guess (with my fairly accurate straight man's gaydar) that a solid majority of the staff of the restaurant is gay. On any given night, particularly a Thursday (which has become an unofficial "gay night"; always amusing when I sometimes go there with Kent while Sa's at her belly dance class!) a majority of the clientele is likely to be gay as well.

I'm sure she's not going to need to hear from me about the mistake I think she made donating $100 of her own money -- and listing her place of work as"El Coyote Cafe" -- when I go there tomorrow or Thursday for dinner. But I hope that the boycott call doesn't hurt their business. Some of the wages that her family pays to all those gay employees no doubt made its way into the No on 8 coffers. I'd hate to take money out of the bank accounts and ti- takings of Billy and Bobby and Roberto and Jose and allof our other gay friends there, just because another employee (however closely related to the owners) prefers to donate differently.

We've talked with Margie quite a bit. She's the nice, tall, willowy lady who comes around with ice water and asks how you're doing. We talk about movies, current events, and, yes, politics. She's a Republican. So is almost half the country, and about four in ten Californians. She's also a lifelong Mormon (is there any other kind?). She was very excited about my book, and asked for a signed copy; I warned her it might be a little "racy" for her taste, but she wanted it anyway.

Perhaps when she reads the book, she'll get some reinforcement of the concept that toeing a church line on political issues is a slippery slope. But I think maybe she's already gotten that. From an apology letter posted online at shutupIknow, where there is some heated discussion of the issue:

I HAVE BEEN SICK AT HEART THAT ANYONE HAS BEEN OFFENDED BY ME.

I HAVE FAMILY, FRIENDS, EMPLOYEES FROM THE GAY COMMUNITY WHO ARE TREASURED PEOPLE IN MY LIFE.

I HAVE BEEN A MEMBER OF THE MORMON CHURCH ALL MY LIFE. I RESPONDED TO THEIR REQUEST WITH MY PERSONAL DONATION.

FOR YEARS THE EL COYOTE HAS FINANCIALLY AND GENEROUSLY SUPPORTED THE GAY COMMUNITY AND MANY OF ITS CHARITIES.

PLEASE BE OUR GUEST FOR AN EARLY LUNCH WED., NOV. 12TH AT 11:00 AM AT THE COYOTE AND ALLOW ME TO SPEAK WITH YOU PERSONALLY.

PLEASE CALL AND MAKE A RESERVATION AS SEATING IS LIMITED. (323) 939-2255.

Was Margie on the wrong side of this issue? I think so. Does the restaurant where she works deserve to be boycotted for it? I don't think so, but if you do, I'd at least go hear her out before deciding.

I leave you with a photo of one of the clearly-oppressed staff of El Coyote a couple of Halloweens ago. That's Roberto, affectionately known as Betty...

If Yucan't Go To Yucatan Yucan Go To Yuca's

Yuca's

2056 Hillhurst Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90027
(323) 662-1214
Mon - Sat. 9-6
Cash Only

Click here for Google Info & Map

At this moment, Sa’s cooking dinner for me and I’m sure it’s going to be delicious. But the fact is I’m still full from my lunch today. I took her to Yuca’s Tacos & Burritos, and I had to keep ordering tacos to, you know, research this post.

For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of visiting the Mayan Riviera, as the stretch of white sand beaches between Cancun and Tulum is known -- or was until it was washed almost completely away by Hurricane Wilma -- the food of the Yucatan peninsula is memorable for two things: pork and hot sauce. The food itself tends to be mild, but the habañero- and jalapeño- based salsas served with it are blazingly spicy -- which as you know is just the way I like it. And both the pork and the salsa are available in quantity at Yuca's.

Here's the dish.

It's the kind of taqueria that makes my taste buds do jumping jacks of excitement. The kind that, as we drive past, I'll say to Sa, "That could be the best Mexican food in the world! What if it is, and we never know?" It's a scary little shack in the middle of Los Feliz village, in the middle of Hillhurst, in the middle of a parking lot. Okay, actually it kind of is a parking lot. A handful of rickety particle board tables teeter with legs half on sidewalk, half on asphalt. A dozen or fewer garage sale wedding auditorium chairs make up the "dining area." There's a blue plastic tarp strung up overhead for shade. That's it.

But did I mention there's parking?

The menu is disarmingly, charmingly small. Burritos of carne asada, carnitas, machaca, chile verde, and pork cochinita pibil (more on that in a moment) and bean & cheese for you (ugh) vegetarians. Tacos and tortas of the same, minus chile verde. Special pibil tamales on Saturdays only. There's also a selection of hot dogs and burgers -- what up wid dat?

You go to the window, and Socorra Herrera, the doña who runs the family operation, takes your order and name... she writes it down on the very paper plate on which your order will be served. This is apparently an excellent system, as it's ready seconds, not minutes, later.

Whatever else you get, and it's all good, you must get the Mayan classic cochinita pibil. This is the local specialty of the Yucatan: it's their gumbo, their deep-dish pizza, their nigiri sushi, their cheesesteak. It's shredded pork that's marinated in spices and steamed in banana leaves. Mmm, yes, it is good as it sounds, and the version here is terrific. What's in it? Achiote, a staple of Mayan cooking. (For info about it click here.) Cumin, definitely. Maybe a bit of cinnamon? Something citrusy, either orange or lemon; I'm thinking orange. Red onion. Mild chilies. It's like the best BBQ pulled pork you can imagine, only not nearly so sweet or spicy, subtler, more tender and juicy. It totally fuckin' rocks.

The carne asada is flavorful and toothsome. The carnitas... well, it's Yucatecan pork. Less unusual than the pibil, but just as tasty. The machaca pictured above, which can be uninteresting on a lot of taqueria menus, is delicious here. It obviously gets the same careful marinade treatment as the pibil. It's incredibly juicy and bursting with flavor. The chile verde is unusual. It's not the tomatillo stew that is my personal favorite food in the world (Sa makes the best version of it I know), but a pulled-pork concoction with tender stewed jalapeños that's addictive. The flour tortillas have that slightly gritty feel that I believe says "eat me" or simply, "lard!". So do the beans.

For two bucks, you can buy a bottle of either the red or green "El Yucateco" brand habañero ultra-hot sauce, or borrow one from the rickety tables, to jack up the heat once you've tasted a bite or two "straight" to appreciate the subtle flavors. Wash it back with a lemonade (the only drink on the menu unless you count coffee, milk or orange juice, which I don't) or your favorite beer or soda from the liquor store two steps away. You're in parking lot heaven.

But I'm sure most of you know about Yuca's already. It's right there on Hillhurst above Franklin. Surely you've already been there. Right? No? You'd better go.

It might just be "the best Mexican food in the world."

Killing Time Until The Polls Close -- Houston's

I had big plans today. I was going to work the Obama phone banks, then try to find somewhere where I could get a classic American hot dog and a slice of apple pie. I was going to photograph it for you, to get you all warm and fuzzy about the U.S. of A. so that if you hadn't voted yet, I could inspire you to go out and do so.

I worked the phone banks, me and Donald Sutherland. I was calling Virginia and Ohio. People were mostly very nice, and many had already voted, and voted for Obama.

But then do you have any idea how hard it is to find someplace in Beverly Hills that serves hot dogs, apple pie, and martinis? Did I mention I needed a martini?

I went to Houston's at the Westfield Century City mall. I don't, as you know, post bad reviews. So I won't say much about it except to say that while they didn't have hot dogs, they also didn't flinch when I ordered extra arugula on my left wing liberal California arugula eating chardonnay drinking cheesburger. And after requesting olives for my martini, twice, they finally located some. Okay, here's a picture of the burger, and the martini.




Now on to the serious stuff. Get out and vote if you haven't already. If you have, and you're scouring the internet looking for early results... you, like I, will have to wait 'til polls close in Virginia at 4:00.

That's 45 minutes from now. It's relocated to http://infinitejess.blogspot.com. That's where I blog about Everything But Food, and I just posted a recap of my recent trip to Washington D.C., and the reading of my novel at the Folger Shakespeare Library. There are some photos to inspire you about great presidents past, and perhaps great presidents future.

Happy Election Day!

Where the Food Craziness Began -- Lupe's Mexican Restaurant

Lupe's Mexican Restaurant
1710 Thousand Oaks Blvd.
Thousand Oaks, CA
(805) 495-3573

Maps and Info at Yelp.com

This is the very first restaurant I ever went to. My memory of that first visit is as blurry as this dying-battery photo. Yet I do remember it, even though I could only have been 2 or 3 at the time. Lupe's used to be set back about 50 yards from Thousand Oaks Blvd., tucked into the oak trees against the hillside and painted a bright, fiesta green. I remember the screen door you went through to enter, and I remember formica and naugahyde. I think I had a hamburger. I remember a fly.

That photo is actually a painting of the restaurant during those days, that hangs on the wall at the current Lupe's.

By "current," understand that it hasn't changed significantly since that last remodel in 1966 or so. Even the black velvet paintings of toreadors lining the interior walls are the same.

I will receive comments about why Lupe's sucks, about the better Mex food even in Thousand Oaks, about how it isn't "authentic" Mexican food, blah blah. In this case, it doesn't matter. It was my first restaurant, my favorite restaurant, and it informs everything about my take on food since.

I used to go once a week. My mom would take me bowling on Thursdays. She didn't bowl, but she'd watch me, and keep score, and then we'd go to Lupe's. They had a good jukebox. I remember my favorites as "Yesterday," "Raindrops Keep Fallin On My Head," "Sugar Sugar," and "ABC", which places me there a lot in '70-71.

The food hasn't changed since then. Not an iota. And I suspect it hasn't changed much since 1947, when it became the first established eatery in the Conejo Valley. As one post on Ventura.com says, "It's as old as the oaks in Thousand Oaks."

Lupe's still serves California Mexican cuisine of that era, which happens to be what I love. Scratch that, it doesn't "happen" to be what I love... I love it because it's what I grew up eating, right here.

Originally owned and operated by a sweet and tough lady named Martha and named after her eldest daughter, Lupe's has the distinction of now being operated by Lupe herself. That's cool.

The salsa and chips are perfect, the salsa served in little metal bowls. Ground beef tacos are quintessentially SoCal tacos of the era. The Chile Colorado is delicious, smoky and intense like it's been stewing in the pot since 1947. Combo plates are just like you want 'em, big and inexpensive and cheesy and tasty.

But what keeps me coming back are the taquitos. They're utterly addictive: fresh, crispy tortilla; stringy-yet-moist hand-shredded beef; a pile of fresh guacamole and shredded lettuce on the side; finely shredded mild cheddar on top, some Thousand Island dressing, and a couple of black olives to boot.



Did they always serve it with sour cream? I don't think so; I've never cared for sour cream on Mexican food. When I was ten, I remember winning a bet with my waitress that I couldn't eat two orders of 'em (that's six taquitos) plus a guacamole and ground beef taco. She lost. If she'd been paying attention she would never have made the bet because I ordered and devoured the same mountain of taquitos every week. These are, you heard it here, the best taquitos in the world. Because they were my first.

For someone who's lived and traveled and eaten over the world, it is supremely satisfying to be able to re-visit one's first foodie love and find it entirely unchanged.

If only "Yesterday" were still on the jukebox.