30. EatPhamish

It’s been a little bit since I’ve written, I know. I have been on a tear of eating out, actually, but as it was a result of my dad visiting, I have been unavailable to share it all lately. One of our dining experiences, however, was, of course, a food truck. It was Dad’s first food LA food truck experience. And it was a good one.

Last Thursday we pulled up along Miracle Mile to scope out our options of which there were many. After some discussion, he decided he wanted to try the Dogtown Dog truck AND Eatphamish. I had eaten at the Dogtown truck previously with little fanfare, but he’s a huge hot dog fan. So we agreed to split a dog and then grab a couple of banh mis down the block at Eatphamish.

I have to say, I am so glad I gave the Dogtown truck another day in court as we were both very impressed with our dog! We ordered the Trailer Trash Dog (all beef snap dog topped with hearty chili and crumbled Frito’s - $6). While neither of us recognized much of the promised snap in our dog, we both agreed that it was great: big and bold. The chili was great and the Frito’s added a fantastic crunch – they really made the whole thing. So, kudos, guys. I’ll be back.

After our dog we ambled down the block to check out Eatphamish’s menu. Now, I had actually checked them out about a week or so prior to this but I only ordered the grilled steak spring rolls (served with lettuce, cucumber, pickled carrots & daikon, bean sprouts, fresh basil and mint in a rice paper wrap - $6 for 2), and didn’t think it was enough to report on. The spring rolls were chubby and ginormous, and the steak was grilled nicely and was quite tasty. But I really only tasted the meat and not much of the vegetables. I will add that they were not very tightly rolled. I also was not a fan of the dipping sauce. It was a little too sweet for my taste and I missed the peanuts. Lastly, the fact that they were just as expensive, if not more, than the banh mis, was very odd. They should make them smaller and cheaper.

But last week with Dad, I tried their banh mi. I ordered the grilled steak banh mi and he ordered the grilled lemongrass pork banh mi, and my buddy, Doug, ordered the lemongrass chicken banh mi (12” baguettes served with garlic mayo, pickled carrots & daikon, cilantro, jalapeños and a dash of soy sauce - $7, $5 & $5, respectively).  It was a banh mi festival. And it was delicious. 

Lisa Le, the chef of EatPhamish, gets the wonderful baguettes from a Vietnamese bakery in Alhambra fresh every morning. I loved the creative addition of the garlic mayo and jalapeños. It’s so interesting how an imposing 12” sandwich is actually so light and fresh and easy to finish off (if one doesn’t eat a chili dog beforehand). I preferred my steak to Dad’s pork. I thought its marinade complimented the garlic mayo perfectly and the occasional splash of cilantro cut through the peppers - a sprightly surprise on the palate. And unlike the spring rolls, I thought the ratio of meat to veggies was spot on.

The prices were right, the food came out at a fairly good speed and this sandwich is tidy and ideal to eat on the go. I very much doubt I will return to order the pho. I simply cannot imagine how I would eat a large bowl of steaming soup on the side of the road. That, and my lukewarm feelings about the spring rolls aside, I will certainly return for their exceptional banh mi.

Take Me Out To the Ball Game.

Things are making more sense now. Or, perhaps, I am making more sense of things now. Or, perhaps, I am feeling more sensible now. Maybe yesterday’s earthquake shook me back to my overly organized self. For this, I am relieved. I accomplished all of my Monday paperwork and tedium before noon, then ran errands, did laundry, and even made my bed (which I never do). Captivating stuff, right?

I’m also very excited that today is opening day of baseball season. Yes, it's true, I love baseball. I actually went to a game this past Saturday. I have always loved baseball but it got pretty serious about 10 or so years ago in Atlanta. I dated a major Braves fan. It all made sense at the time. I grew up in Richmond, VA, which was home to the farm team for the Atlanta Braves, aptly called the Richmond Braves. If you showed up after the 4^th inning you’d be let in for free. My friend Sam and I would go all the time when we were in high school. And, of course, Dad took me to games as a kid. The Richmond Braves have since been sold. Richmond's farm team is now called the Flying Squirrels. Don't even get me started...

Anyway, at the time, Mark, the Atlanta Braves fan, still collected baseball cards, went to games by himself, kept score at the games (which is quite a process if you are familiar with what I'm talking about), and even listened to them on the radio. He taught me more than I ever thought I wanted to know about the sport. I recall an entire inning being spent with him explaining the intricacies of the balk rule. You’d be surprised, but this endeared me to him enormously.

Chipper Jones (Braves) at bat and Paul LoDuca (Dodgers) catcher. Circa 2002. Mark gets photo credit (shot through his binoculars).

Many moons have passed since Mark and I went our separate ways, but I still keep up with the sport (as, I’m sure, does he). I still love the Braves, but am also a Dodgers fan now. I don’t really listen to games on the radio, or watch much of them on TV (depends on the game), but I just love going to them. The smell of the stadium, the energy in the air, the complete melting pot of cultures, classes and ages, the spirit, the Americana, the hot dogs, peanuts and beer. Interestingly, this is one of the very few occasions during which I will drink beer. Or wear a baseball hat. Or hat of any kind, for that matter.

With the nostalgia brought on by the familiarity of what I associate to be the onslaught of all things Summer, my thoughts are brought back to the kitchen - or in this case, the grill.

A while back Chris found a recipe in The Week illustrating how to prepare the perfect steakhouse steak. You know, with the super crusty outside? We loved it and cooked it on both a grill pan and the grill with equal success.

There’s something about the sights, smells and sounds of the promise of Summer:  the clanking of the spoon against the glass stirring the pitcher of lemonade, the smell of fresh cut grass, cicadas chirping at sunset, picnics on red checkered blankets, a late-afternoon thunderstorm and the smell of the charcoal grill wafting down the streets of the neighborhood.

This steak has all of these things wrapped up in each stage of preparation: the smells and sounds of the meat searing and every bite breaking through the crusty exterior into the tender, medium-rare meat. The perfect steak. It really just can’t be beat.

So tonight, as I applaud the Braves 16-5 win over the Cubs and mourn the impending loss by the Dodgers to the Pirates, with comfort and calm in my soul, I sparked up the old grill for the first time in months and cooked me up a steak.

The Perfect Steak

Ingredients

1  14- to 16-ounce New York strip steak (about 1 to 1 1/4 inches thick)

1 tsp salt

1 tsp freshly cracked pepper

1 tsp cornstarch

1 tsp Worcestershire sauce

Directions

Pat steaks dry with paper towel and rub in salt, pepper and cornstarch.

Wrap steak in wax paper and put in freezer for 30-45 minutes (until a bit hard on the outside but not completely frozen).

Grill steaks on very high heat 4-6 minutes on each side. Douse a little Worcestershire sauce on while grilling.

Plate and serve.

27. The Dogtown Dog Truck

After leaving the Reggae Jerk Chicken Truck, I headed west on Wilshire and spotted the Dogtown Dog truck. Woo-hoo! I whipped a U-ey and secured a parking space directly behind the truck. Score! It was about 2:30 and I was surprised to see such a cluster of folks around the truck. After my truck experience less than an hour before I decided this was a good sign. But as I sidled up to the window I realized that all of these people had already ordered and were waiting on their food. Curious.

I almost didn’t even have the chance to order as the man in the window said they were closed. But wait – no, not closed. I got the last order of the day. The menu consists of 6 different styles of hot dogs and some cute sides: tater tots, buffalo tots and fennel slaw. I would have preferred to order their California Dog ($6), but opted for their signature Dogtown Dog ($5). Gotta order the namesake, right? 

So, I turned around, walked over to a low wall to sit and wait. As I glanced around at the folks around me (about 8 people), I realized they were all still waiting for their food. Nothing had come out of the window of the truck yet. For hot dogs? I can’t imagine any other food that would come out of a truck faster than hot dogs - especially if there are only 6 varieties. This began to concern me.

The guy that took my order even came out and began to close down the truck while we were all waiting. Why wasn’t he helping the food come out faster?

So, seriously folks, I waited about 20 minutes. I ordered one (1) hot dog. Were they actually putting the meat in the casings in that truck?? Needless to say, this hot dog had a lot to live up to at this point.

Where's the beef?

Well and so. The dog was okay, but there wasn’t a whole lot of it. I liked its flavor but again, it was a pretty skimpy dog that was eclipsed by both the soft bun and the toppings – fennel slaw, roasted red peppers and Dijon mustard. I enjoyed the fennel slaw (but there was a bit too much of it) and peppers, but my mustard was nowhere to be found. The menu brags of a snap. My dog was not that snappy. Which is really not a big thing to me anyway. But for $5 and a curious wait, I want a big-ass dog. I want something more like what Let’s Be Frank is doing. Their dog was a meal. This dog was really my second lunch and I still wasn’t stuffed. And I stuff easily.

After 2 months of staying relatively truck free, today ended up being somewhat disappointing. I will say that in the past couple of months I tried Komodo, Louks and Fressers, and found them to all be quite good. I plan to return to each of them to provide a more thorough review. So keep checking in!

12. Let's Be Frank

10/23/09

I woke up with a hankering for a hot dog yesterday. I have been reading and hearing so much about Let’s Be Frank, from so many different sources, for so long, that my path was clear. All the way to Culver City I went. I’m not sure what was going on in the world, but, my lord, every way I turned, and every lane I chose seemed to be a bad idea. Friday. LA. I wasn’t in a hurry, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Plus, I could use this jaunt as an excuse to zip into, my Heaven-on-Earth, Surfas, which is super close by, to pick up some rendered duck fat!

Let’s Be Frank opened, in 2005 under Sue Moore and Larry Bain, in San Francisco. They expanded to Los Angeles in the fall of 2007. The currently have a truck set up, weekdays, in Culver City, and a cart parked in front of Sliverlake Wine, on Thursday nights, during their wine tastings.

Previously, Moore was the meat forager for Chez Panisse. They serve only pasture-based livestock free from hormones, steroids, nitrates and nitrites – and all from local producers. These are earth-friendly hot dogs.

I ordered the Frank Dog ($5) with grilled onions and their homemade bread & butter pickles. The woman working, who was a bit frazzled, but as sweet as can be, told me that I MUST try the Devil Sauce as well. Clearly, I did. I really enjoyed my dog. It was substantial and fresh and snappy. The meat was thoughtful, with robust flavor and dimension. The Devil Sauce was thick, smoky and spicy, and almost chili-like. This dog also completely filled me up.

Actually, while I was eating my Let’s Be Frank frank, I overheard a father and son talking about how much they liked their dogs, but (father to son) “your mom wouldn’t like these. She hates the snap. We won’t tell her.” This reminded me that in this world, there are two types of people: pro-snap in their dog and anti-snap in their dog. What causes the snap is the meat’s natural casing (in this case, lamb). Kosher hot dogs are all beef and made under rabbinical supervision. They are skinless or stuffed into collagen casings, because natural casings are not permitted.

At the end of the day, I’m really not a snapper. I still think a Dodger Dog is my personal favorite. I don’t need homemade, gourmet condiments – just the standards: ketchup, mustard, onions and relish (or chili and slaw if I can find a good Carolina dog). I appreciate everything that Let’s Be Frank is doing and will support them by returning, but frankly, I prefer a different breed of dog.

F for Food Trucks

Ever since my, most recent, bacon-wrapped hot dog exploit I have been, pretty much, obsessed with the local mobile food movement. I realize I am no trailblazer but, just recently, I have set my phone to receive Tweets from many of the food trucks roaming the streets so I can stalk them. It’s really fun, actually – like a scavenger hunt.

As I am a genuine neophyte in the food truck arena, I have given myself a mission. I am going to eat at 25 different food trucks before the end of the year. This all just in time for my New Year resolution: to lose the 25 pounds I will likely gain on said mission.

I began this past weekend, and have been to 3 so far. I have a list of the trucks I want to hit, but I am open to try any and all of them. So I welcome all suggestions, ideas, the best menu items and thoughts from everyone who has an opinion on the matter.

You can follow my guerrilla gourmand exploits, *pictures and reviews with the, ever-growing, list on the sidebar.

*Disclaimer: All of the photos in this series are taken with my camera phone, in the spirit of the entire concept. So they may not be up to my usual photography standards.

But is it art?

 

Guerrilla art is the surreptitious, and often sudden, creation or installation of unauthorized public art, often with the purpose of making an overt political statement. It is also about reclaiming space, access and non-permanence. Graffiti, sticker art, wheat pasting, street installations, video projections or even guerrilla theater are all examples of guerrilla art. Heck, Lil’ J put on a guerrilla fashion show in season 2 of Gossip Girl.  Or how about just 2 names: Shepard Fairey and Barack Obama.

To quote Allan Schwartzman (Street Art, 1985), “Artists have challenged art by situating it in non-art contexts. ‘Street’ artists do not aspire to change the definition of an artwork, but rather to question the existing environment with its own language. They attempt to have their work communicate with everyday people about socially relevant themes in ways that are informed by esthetic values without being imprisoned by them.”

 

Well, food is art and these days food has joined the guerrilla cause. Here in LA we have a long-standing relationship with the taco trucks/stands and the hot dog carts. Food trucks, have been quite the daily dish of late – ever since LA County officials passed a law that makes it a misdemeanor to park a food truck in the same place for more than an hour. Violators face penalties of up to $1,000 in fines or six months in jail. 

In the spirit of art, resilience and, perhaps, resistance, people are finding new, innovative ways to keep their trucks serving food, and their customers are hungrier than ever for the goods. Thanks almost entirely to Twitter, blogging, and even Facebook, the Kogi Truck, Fishlips Sushi Truck, Marked 5, The Buttermilk Truck, The Gastro Bus and Green Truck on the Go, to name but a few, are smack in the middle of their 15 minutes. They have provided LA with a moving party of food. Although it’s exclusive as far as becoming informed, it couldn’t be a more welcoming and inclusive environment. It’s our newest sub-culture. Forget Thursday, food trucks are the new Friday.

I don’t go to bars all that often, except maybe a wine bar. But last weekend I met my friend Brandon on the East Side for a few cocktails at a couple of bars. We ended up out fairly late and upon stumbling walking out of the last spot - like a lush oasis in the middle of this asphalt jungle - was a bacon-wrapped hot dog cart.  The bacon-wrapped hot dog vendors are brilliant and truly on to something. They are elusive and exclusive. They are only out late at night to catch the horde of the inebriated and hungry, and they do not have a set location. All of this, much like the un-crackable nut, only adds to their allure for me. 

It’s simple. Wrap bacon around a hot dog and grill it. Put it in a bun and add grilled peppers and onions. Top with your choice of mayo, mustard, hot sauce and ketchup. Heaven. And all this for $3. 

Would it be as special if I could set out on a mission for one of these delicious dogs, at any time, and succeed? Maybe, but I think not. Because when you happen upon one of these carts, along with the smattering of other folks, when you're a little tipsy, late at night - you’re in a bubble. This moment, these people, this corner, and this hot dog will not happen again. Not like this. Like a snowflake, or the concept behind a Jackson Pollack painting or a graffiti piece that changes daily, with the weather and time, you can’t predict it and you can’t force it to happen again. Its ephemera and its prohibition are its beauty. It’s also incredibly tasty.



For a list of some great food trucks around town click here.