Mexico City: All Good Things

Annette



They say good things come to those who wait.

It's Thursday in Mexico City and the first day of the Competencia Mexicanas de Baristas where our call time for judges isn't until 12 noon. This means that we can sleep in, lounge around or do absolutely nothing all morning. That is, unless you've agreed to help someone get ready for their performance.

That's why on our day off, at 8am, I've dragged myself down to the show floor (and bypassed the chilaquiles lady) to taste the coffee Ana is using for her competition performance. She's using EccoCaffe's tasty espresso and while Andrew himself was supposed to come along, he's still recovering from our very long night.

Quite frankly, I too need to spend more time recovering.

And since my wake up call rang at seven and I've dragged my ass down to the show floor at 8:30am, it would have been nice if she were on time too. Frick.


Brent

Finally, the coffee is flowing and the Ecco is coming out with nice notes of chocolate, honey and tobacco. It's sweet and tasty. The crema is delightfully brown, if slightly on the gassy side (it was roasted seven days ago). It's easy the best espresso I've tasted since I arrived in Mexico City and I think should perform quite well in competition.

Speaking of competition, the Mexican government does not allow the importation of green coffees from outside the country. This means that just about everyone competing is limited to Mexican coffees for their espresso blend, and while there's some great Mexican coffees, it's difficult to develop an espresso blend that can match the complexity of other blends that are able to utilize coffees from anywhere on the planet. This, I think, can give Ana a definite edge against the other competitors.

Once finished with the espresso tasting, I'm off and back to bed for an hour to rest before meeting the rest of our crew in the lobby at noon.


Sarah

At noon, we meet and it's time to eat. At first, we head off looking for the man and woman selling the chicharrones but they're not there. I'm confounded. It's noon and they're nowhere to be seen. Then I remember I ate there around 4pm and maybe they're only there in the afternoon, so I suggest Don Buche.

We descend on Don Buche like a gale force wind. It's carnitas tacos all the way around. Like Monday, they're delicious and the salsa verde is still kicking. We tear through the tacos and Sarah suggests a round of quesadillas. We tear through those as well and then it's time for a round of costilla tacos (rib meat tacos). Again, these tacos are muy delicioso.

After three rounds of tacos and quesadillas, we're stuffed and ready for a full afternoon of judging.


Eating a la ventana

The competition starts a bit later than expected but goes smoothly. Ana pulls off a solid performance - the best I've ever seen her. She's practiced, ready and focused. The shots look good and I think she's got a good chance to make it to the finals. I didn't see everyone but two other competitors stood out: Samantha and Aleli (current champion Salvador's novia), both of whom look like solid contenders for the finals.

Within our little crew, we've been wondering just when we're finally going to eat real Mexican food - even plotting on how to convince our hosts that Mexican would be an ideal choice when they announce that we will indeed be going to a real Mexican restaurant tonight. We rejoice as angels cry.

Paraphrasing something that Jon Lewis talks about, here in Mexico City, we've found our "tribe." And each night, our tribe grows larger and larger. New friends and old gather to celebrate our time together. Thirteen of us pile into two minivans for the nearly one hour trip (because of traffic) down Insurgentes Sur to the neighborhood of San Angel - the onetime home of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera.


The Reg eats Chile en Nogada at the San Angel Inn.

In fact, we end up at The San Angel Inn, right next door to Diego and Frida's famous homes that are connected by a bridge. The San Angel Inn is a gorgeous restaurant housed in an old Carmelite Monastery. The food is decidedly upper-class Mexican with a mix of traditional Mexican cuisine and European continental.

September in Mexico means one thing: Chiles en Nogada and half the table goes for it. For the uninitiated, it's a roasted and peeled poblano pepper stuffed with spiced ground beef, potatoes and walnuts, covered in sweet walnut sauce with pomegrates and more chopped walnuts and served cool. It's a delicious savory and sweet dish that begs a coffee pairing.


Annette succumbs to the "take pictures of your food" madness.

Our tribe has grown into a diverse and eclectic group of people and we have a great time. A Mariachi trio comes by our table to sing for Andrew, who is celebrating his birthday today. We rejoice.



Sarah tastes the flamed Cafe El Diablo.

NOTE:
I know these are rather abridged entries but we're jamming here in Mexico City and I'll have to follow up later with more in-depth write ups of our time at all of these great places. In the meantime, be sure to watch the live video feed Friday and Saturday - it's the only national competition outside of the USBC and WBC to offer live coverage.

Also, for an alternative viewpoint of our activities, be sure to check out Sarah's entries on Barista Magazine's Pasteboard Blog.a



Annette and the community dessert.

Mexico City: Continues

Annette, Brent, Andrew, Sonja, Me and Terry at the Museo de Frida Kahlo.

So far, it's been nothing short of a whirlwind 48 hours here in Mexico City. We spent our day yesterday , and half our day today, at the judges training workshop. It's interesting to watch the judges develop their skill because it's a struggle to balance the judges desire to score accurately and sharply with the need to reward the barista competitors appropriately. The days are long and jammed with information, and somewhere you find balance.

Outside of the workshop, us "foreigh" judges have been making camp at the Crowne Plaza Hotel where we start off with morning buffet breakfast at the hotel, then buffet lunch at the workshop site and then dinner out on the town - all of which have been taken care of by our gracious hosts Arturo and Cleofas.

From my perspective, there's been a positive angle to the judges training. In the meeting room next door, they were holding a practice session for the upcoming Miss Mexico / Miss Universe pageant. That means our workshop hotel has been flooded with some of the most beautiful girls this nation has to offer. It's been a visual treat - even those most of the girls are a bit too emaciated for my tastes.


Victor of El Jarocho pulls some coffee for us to see.

At night, our small clan gathers and heads out for dinner. The first night, we walked down the street to a restaurant called La Strega - The Witch, serving quite good Italian food. Last night, we were taken to one of the most outrageous and amazing Chinese restaurants called Hunan where they prepared the peking duck not in the traditional rice cake but in Mexican corn tortillas. Quite delicious.

Tonight, we were whisked off to Polanco (the Beverly Hills of Mexico City) to eat Alsatian/French food at L'Alsace. Again, the food here was quite good. One of the girls recommended their steak tartare over the ribeye and I went for it and was handsomely rewarded. I just wish the portions were slightly smaller.


The judges review Victor's coffee.

But after three nights of fantastic meals at some of the citys' best restaurants, we're beginning to wonder when we're going to try some traditional Mexican cuisine. All of this great food is nice, but we're in the home of Mexican Cuisine. I'm hoping we'll be eating some great Mexican soon.

Meanwhile, we spent this afternoon touring parts of the city. First, down to Coyoacan and the Museo de Frida Kahlo. It's an excellent stop and highly recommended - especially if you know anything about her and her famous husband Diego Rivera. From there, we walked around the zocalo where they've closed the plaza while repaving the streets around it with concrete faux cobblestone.

After walking around a bit, we headed over the famed El Jarocho where our incessant picture taking attracted the attention of the owner Victor who brought out an apron for some of us to wear in the photos and showed us samples of his green coffee. I guess he was happy to have a bunch of roasters from Santa Rosa, Iceland and London hanging out at his cafe.


Waiting for the boat at Xochimilco.

After some of the girls did some shopping, we made the long trek down to Xochimilco where we hired a boat for an hour and took a lazy cruise down the canals while being tempted by transient vendors hawking everything from grilled corn to silver jewelry to dolls to blankets, roses and more. Some would come alongside in their own boat while others would hop aboard ours. Since it was a slow tourist day, everyone was in a selling mood and it was a bit odd to take on passengers whose only mission was to sell you something.

And as luck would have it, it started to rain while we were on the water. First, light drizzles, then the downpour. And just as Annette was saying that she heard a forecast for thunderstorms, the rumble of a thunderstorm trembled in the distance. Happily, there was no lightning.


The girls ready for dinner. Men around the world are insanely jealous.

Mexico City: It Begins.

Already, it's started.

I've been in Mexico City for less than two hours and I've already hit Dakota Avenue fronting my hotel, the Crowne Plaza, in search of tasty bites.

Things threatened to derail quickly when I first ask the deskman and bellman about where to eat. "Do you like Italian?" Yes, but only when at home or in Italy. "Burger King?" The King and his battered fries can suck it. "How about Mexican?" I suggested. I think this caught them off guard. Then they started recommending a restaurant down the street with mariachis.

Now, I have nothing against Mariachis. In fact, I like their music. But in this metropolis, a restaurant with mariachis probably means: "tourist." And have little patience for pricey and watered down Mexican food designed for the gringo palate. I want the Real Deal and asked them about some little place on the street that might be good. That's took them by surprise.

Perhaps it's because the Crowne Plaza is a relatively fancy hotel catering to people that have a modicum of money -business people, tourists, etc. Or maybe because we're in the heart of Mexico's World Trade Center. Whatever the case may be, it was obvious that these guys don't get this kind of question too often.

"You mean like the food we would eat?" came their response. Yes, absolutely. In the end, they didn't have any real recommendation other than to stroll down Dakota and see what was available. I think they were expecting me to run off to the Popeye's on Filadelfia.

I'll be honest. I'm intimidated. Not because of Mexico City's reputation as one of the most dangerous cities in the world (after all, I do live in one of the most dangerous and violent cities in America). Not because I'm worried about being kidnapped for ransom. But because my capacity for Espanol isn't very good - and these people speak fast. Spanish on the streets of Mexico City is fast and can be filled with all sorts of colloquialisms that aren't covered in Rosetta Stone.

I'm bad enough when you're speaking slowly and clearly. It tends to fall apart under the stress of the street and standing in line for chow.


Comida Corrida two blocks from the hotel.

In a city of 20 million people, there's got to be something to eat somewhere - and at all times. Luckily, Dakota Street doesn't disappoint. In the short, two block walk from the hotel there's at least a half dozen places to eat. I walk by them all to get a feel for them and decide which one to try. Some are packed and there's no hope of me getting a table. Then I spot this man and woman standing in front of a package goods store, selling food out of plastic buckets. Gosh, that looks promising. Buttressing the potential for good food is the swarm of people milling about holding styrofoam plates, eating Lord Knows What.

This is where the intimidation factor kicks in. As long as I don't speak, I can blend relatively into the scenery. Once I have the speak, the jig is up. I linger to the side for a few minutes to get an idea from the other customers on how to order. Most of them are pointing at the various stuff in the buckets. There's a tomato based thing, a greenish eggplant thing, a meaty thing, some rice and there's also beans. The man is orchestrating the bucket side while his wife (I presume) watches over the beverages and what looks like some sort of fried taco or flauta.

So they're pointing and they're mumbling their discussion in Espanol mas rapido. I'm really quite hungry and need to go for it, so I step into the line. There are two guys ahead of me. I watch and strain to listen intently to their orders. The guy directly in front of me has said something to the man and pointed at the tomato thing, the meat thing, as well as the rice and the beans. All four ingredients get dropped onto a styro plate and the man looks to me.

Merde. I'm in trouble. The man starts talking, asking me what I'd like. I don't know how to answer, so I start to point at the tomato thing, the rice and the beans. I also pointed at the meat, intending to order the same as the guy ahead of me, but things have gone awry - he actually expects me to comprehend what he's saying. In the heat of the moment, I hear one word: chicharrones and I give a basic answer of si. I'm not exactly sure but I think the tomato thing is actually fried pork skins, how could I go wrong?

The man continues in Spanish - fully expecting me to understand and speak. I hear the word taco. I don't really want this as a taco, I wanted it on the plate with a fork, but I don't know how to tell him that and end up nodding my head and saying: si, gracias.

Chicharrones, arroz and frijoles on corn tortillas.

In a flash, he's dropped two corn tortillas on a styro plate and added the chicharron, rice and beans and I move away from the fray to eat in peace.

Ay, Dios Mio - it's amazing. In this tomato sauce, the chicharron have soften and turned into this unbelievably complex and tasty dish. Mixed with the rice and beans, and this thing is sublime.

But what really makes it is the tortilla.

Strangely enough this past Saturday, after the farmer's markets, Spike and I stopped by Tortilleria Sinaloa for a couple of tacos. They've got good tortillas made from Maseca, the processed corn flower. I've heard so much about masa-based tortillas that I was wondering what the difference in taste was. Today, I found out. In spades.

Last year, I'm sure I had masa-based tortillas, but I wasn't well-versed enough in Mexican cuisine to tell the difference. Today, the difference was stark and astonishing. The corn masa tortilla was alive. The flavor danced on your tongue. Whereas Maseca tortillas have a light corn taste, masa gives the tortilla a pronounced corn flavor. It was exquisite. I wanted to eat more.

Okay, for all intents and purposes: I can't speak Spanish. I wanted to try another round but I didn't know how to say it. I decided to move on and try something else. But I still needed to pay. I don't even know how much my food costs.

The way it works here is that you're served, you eat and then you pay when you're finished. This allows the average diner to come back for seconds (or thirds) without the trouble of paying as you go. Without knowing how much I owed, I figured that the 100 peso bill in my pocket would be more than enough. In the end, I think she gave me back 90 pesos in change. The exchange rate here is roughly ten pesos to the dollar. This amazingly flavorful and tasty taco cost me one dollar. I could go for more.

And I did - just a block away.


The Taquero at Don Buche.

As I wandered off strolling the streets, I still felt a bit hungry. That's when I spied Don Buche, a tacos carnitas shop just a few steps from the man and woman with the chicharron. This is a formal shop selling pork tacos and they've got everything carnitas under the sun. Luckily for me, they have a sign and while I didn't know what most of those taco variations meant, I ordered the first one anyway. Dos tacos, por favor. That was easy enough.

The taquero dropped four corn tortillas on the comal and then proceeded to take a hunk of roasted pork and chop it up into rough chunks. Drop them on the tortillas, add some chopped onions and cilantro and you're done.

Over to the side was a selection of condiments: salsa verde, a chunky salsa and some cut limes. I prepared mine with some lime juice and then sampled the salsas. The verde was tasty but on fire. The chunky was delicious and complex without the immediate heat of the verde. I ended up using a lot of the chunky salsa.


Carnitas tacos at Don Buche.

Again, the tortillas were delicious, but this time, two tacos were too much. I should have ordered just one. The second filled me up and I was done. Had I been thinking, I would have ordered one, which would have left me open to stop at another stand and taste something else, like a torta, or a quesadilla.

I continued walking around the neighborhood and spotted numerous stands and joints that I would like to try out. Judging by the looks of it, I could spend my entire week eating in this neighborhood and never exhaust all the options.

ORDelay

McDonald's French Fries and Helena's Pipikaula Short Ribs

Flying through Chicago usually means one thing: delays. It's gotta be one of the shittiest airports in the world to fly through because it's horribly situated in Illinois where snowstorms and weather cause constant delays year round. And today is no different.

Today is a two-hour delay. But why? Is it because of equipment? Personnel? Who knows? Airlines refuse to tell the truth on anything, much less the cost of fuel - why expect them to come clean on delays? Bastards.

What we really need is a one hundred dollar per person tax on flight delays levied on the airlines. That would cause them to get their act together. Or force them out of business.

Meanwhile, I'm eating my favorite pipikaula short ribs from Helena's (I kept them in the fridge over the weekend) and some french fries from McDonald's while reading The Judas Strain.

United 843

First Class on United 843's Boeing 757.

My two week odyssey out west is ending and I'm on the way back home through Chicago. In the news, you always hear about airlines and their troubles. One thing I've noticed is that the airplanes are always full. If they're so full, how come they keep saying their losing money?

And the flight to Chicago was jam-packed. Overbooked. Crap, I should have chosed the upgrade last night while checking in online. Now I'm screwed. Destined to wedge myself in-between some jerkoff and Vince Vaughn - I don't know which is worse.


Apple juice and hot nuts.

Happily, days of sitting on my ass flying around the world is about to pay off. They've called my name over the loudspeaker and asked me to come to the counter. Of course, there's six LA Airport Police officers standing there too and I can't help but think they're here to arrest me for some past indiscretion. Luckily, they're arresting the drunken lady that wants to fly on our flight and not me (this time).

As I saunter up to the counter, I'm handed a different boarding pass. One that puts me on the other side of the curtain and into the comfortable environs of First Class. It's a domestic flight so I'm not expecting much, but am very glad to be out of the fracas in economy.


Pastrami Sandwich with bread, rice salad and ginger ale.

While waiting for boarding, I spot a book that someone has left on a table. I grab it and start reading. It's pretty interesting and since I have no other reading material, I co-opt it for myself. It's called The Judas Strain by James Rollins and it's about some sort of virus that's about to be unleashed upon the world by a shadowy organization that must be stopped by the hero.

Moments later, a young man approaches a black man in a baseball cap and holds out a book for him to sign. I never would have noticed him otherwise, but the man signs the book and after a few minutes, I realize that the man in the cap is Don Cheadle with his two children. Figured he would be in the front with me, but evidently he's crushed somewhere in the back as well. Poor bastard.

The flight to Chicago is pleasant. The First Class seats are actually better and more comfortable than the ones on the 767 to Hawaii. In fact, this First Class makes the Hawaii first class downright paltry. I was expecting the worst and it turned out great. They even used real linens. And gave me warm cookies.


Milk and Cookies.


Sunset across America.

Sanuki No Sato

Ian awaits his meal at Sanuki No Sato.


DJ Un-G and the Fried Shrimp Udon


Hiyashi Kaisen - Soba with assorted sashimi, salmon roe, seaweed, cucumber and sansai vegetable.


Special Hamachi and Uni sashimi.


Chicken Katsu


Udon.


Hormone Yaki - soy seasoned stir fried intestines.


Surumeika Shioyaki - lightly salted grilled whole squid served with ginger.


Horenso Bacon Salad - Warm spinach and crispy bacon topped with dried bonito.


Chilean Seabass Yuanyaki - grilled in a sweet soy and sake marinade.


Sanuki No Sato
18206 South Western Avenue
Gardena, CA 90248
310-324-9184

Porto's Bakery

Christine with the goods from Porto's.

Who are these Cubans and what is their secret?

Christine arrived at the house fresh from her trip to Palm Springs with a small box from Porto's Bakery in tow. I had never heard of Porto's and Christine was quite passionate about their stuff so I had to give it a try. Inside were Porto's most cherished item: the Refugiado which, I'm guessing, means "refugee" in Spanish. Whatever the true meaning, it only means one thing to me: delicious or sabroso.

Strudel filled with guava and cream cheese. Good Lord, it's amazing. I want to chow down on it hard. Very hard. I don't know how we're going to make it to dinner with all these side snacks...


Porto's Bakery
315 North Brand Boulevard
Glendale, CA 91203
818-956-5996
www.portosbakery.com

The Counter

1/3 pound beef burger with gruyere cheese, hard boiled egg, black olives, roasted chiles, honey cured bacon and caramelized onion marmalade on a toasted English muffin.

For the past six months or so, burgers have been on our minds. Not just eating burgers, but exploiting them. About bringing a new class of burger joint to the denizens of Baltimore. So when we zipped by The Counter in Marina del Rey, we had to go back and check it out.

I really wasn't hungry, but I had to taste it and ordered it "to go." It took quite awhile to get the burger and then we drove it home to Hermosa Beach and waited for Un-G and Christine to arrive before tearing into it so it had cooled down quite a bit. But the flavors were good and it's got the mind churning for new ideas for our Project Burger.


French Fries


The Counter
4786 Admiralty Way
Marina del Rey, CA 90292
310-827-8600
www.thecounterburger.com

Zankou Chicken

Hummus - fresh garbanzo beans, garlic & tahini blended together topped with olive oil and paprika.


1/4 Dark Chicken Plate - thigh and leg served with hummus, diced tomatoes, garlic spread, pickles and pita bread.


Falafel Wrap - two pieces of falafel, sliced romaine lettuce, diced tomatoes and tahini wrapped in pita bread.


Side Falafel


Zankou Chicken
1716 South Sepulveda Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90025
310-444-0550
www.zankouchicken.com

LA Mill Coffee

Brewing a vac pot of Hacienda Esmeralda.

As much as part of my ego hates to write this:

LA Mill is the best coffee experience in America and perhaps the world.

Yes, there are other good and great coffee shops out there, but so far, no experience in coffee matches the care, thoughtfulness and approach as LA Mill.

And it's not necessarily to my taste.

From the moment that we walked into the place, I was impressed. Impressed by the approach, if not the execution. The decor is well done. It's chic, it's gaudy, it's kinda 70's French renaissance retro with an L.A. twist. Toss in some Chanel, some baby blue hues and all that's bad about Los Angeles culture and design and that should give you an idea how LA Mill looks. It's everything about L.A. that I dislike but gosh, they executed it well.


Coffee and a Jelly Donut - strawberry essence layered with donut-infused milk and topped with espresso.

Like a lot of Hollywood and L.A., LA Mill is a place to see and be seen. The servers are good looking, they're dressed sharply but unlike what you'd expect from a "Third Wave" coffee experience, they're actually friendly and helpful. Only one of the owners seemed a bit stiff and standoff-ish. And it started the moment we walked through the door.

Quickly a young lad came up to welcome us and ask the number in our party. I asked him to be seated at the open banquette four top and he was quick to accommodate and rushed off to clear and reset the table. In the three or four minutes that we stood waiting by the door, no less than three other servers (who happened to walk past us on their way doing something else) each paused and asked us if we had been helped yet. Gone were the apathetic and can't be bothered attitudes so prevalent in coffee shops across America.

Once seated, our server Kristen (a stunning blonde apparition reminiscent of Maria Bello) appeared and quickly welcomed us and brought water.


Blanco y Negro - coffee granita, Madagascar vanilla bean ice cream, vanilla scented chilled.

LA Mill offers both a coffee and a food menu. The food menu isn't overtly large or extensive, but remains focused on just a few items. In some ways, it seems limiting, but as long as it's good and thoughtful, I can live with it. The menu is broken down into dayparts, with each daypart offering four or five items. The All-Day menu offers a variety of simple fare that kind of fills in the holes, so to speak.

The coffee menu offers the usual triumvirate of espresso, cappuccino, latte drinks plus a selection of Signature Beverages like "Mojito" - limes muddled with fresh mint, organic green tea and topped with a splash of soda, or Liquid Tiramisu - chocolate and Grand Marnier creme anglais topped with espresso then garnished with house-made whipped cream. It's different and appealing and most coffee shops just can't bother themselves with creating and offering anything more than the usual triumvirate and the typical commercial syrup-laden latte drinks. Ugh.

Since I'm a proponent of offering a retinue of Signature Drinks, I'm excited to see LA Mill doing so. However, the presence of "Coffee and a Jelly Donut" leaves me a bit torn. Probably more than any other barista on the planet, I'm guilty of riffing on the works of Thomas Keller. In a discussion with 2007 World Barista Champion James Hoffmann, I stated something to the effect that no idea is truly original and that each of us builds upon our experiences. The discussion back then was centered around places like LA Mill lifting drink recipes without asking "permission" of the barista who created it.


Orange Infused Cappuccino with Cacao

Since I tend to publish my recipes and approaches, I'm rather open to people using the ideas and creating something of their own with it, but actually seeing Coffee and a Jelly Donut on the menu sat uneasily with me. It seemed too much of a riff on Keller. Too close to what he had created - even though the actual drink was nothing like Kellers' version. Maybe in the end, James and I are more in agreement than we thought.

The problem with coffee is that it's an absolutely terrible ingredient to work with. Sure, the flavors can be spectacular but the color is so unfortunate. Dark brown. God, it's absolutely an ugly ingredient. Want to use ingredients with colors? It becomes a muddle of brown. Milk? Brown. Red? Brown. Crickey, anything you add to coffee turns brown. It's absolutely horrific and never looks truly appetizing in a clear glass.


Prosciutto Cotto/Reblochon de Savoie - on French baguette, hand cut Yukon Gold chips, preserved cippolinis & olives.

LA Mill's Coffee and a Jelly Donut is served in a bulbous glass atop a tall acrylic cylinder. It's a handsome presentation with a demitasse spoon balanced precariously on the cylinder - though it would have been nice if they had actually polished the spoon instead of sending it out spotted (I have pics). There's a layer of strawberry jam (essence?) on the bottom that's topped with donut infused milk and espresso poured in a heart pattern on top of the frothed milk. It's about as nice a presentation as you can do with a macchiato-style drink.

It's nice. It's sweet. Unfortunately, it's not revolutionary. The flavors blend well but the donut infusion gets lost in the battle between strawberry sweetness and espresso bitterness. More donut and more creaminess would make it better. In the end, it turned out to be more a novelty - just one and that's enough. What I want is a signature drink that captures the mind and begs you to order another and another.

Polly went with the Orange Infused Cappuccino for six dollars. It was okay. Again, nothing revelatory. Just orange-infused milk that's two dollars more than the standard capp. Not bad, just not amazing.

Al ordered the Blanco y Negro - coffee granita, ice cream and espresso. How could you go wrong? I only took a sip and it was pretty good. A bit sweet but tasty. Once the ingredients start to blend I'm sure it was even better.

But LA Mill isn't just a coffeeshop, it's also a restaurant - table service and all. In that reign, our server was good. She was there when needed, kept our water pitcher full and was friendly. And like everyone in L.A., she turned out to be an aspiring actress who has done a couple of roles on tv. Personally, I thought she looked like Katherine Heigl, but Polly turned out with the better likening to Maria Bello - a younger Maria Bello. Hailing from the Midwest, she was here to get her career going.


Huevos "Blanchet" - soft scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, chives, beurre blanc, asaparagus.

We ordered a couple of items from the food menu. Al ordered the prosciutto on French baguette which turned out really nicely. And I went with the Huevos "Blanchet." While not scrambled the way I would do it at home, the eggs were good but the dish as a whole was fantastic. Soft scrambled eggs matched perfectly with the salmon and the grilled asparagus tips - and the toasted brioche gave the whole thing a crunchy counterpoint. Me likey.

The interesting thing about LA Mill is that they offer coffees brewed in a variety of methods. You can order your coffee as a French Press, a Vac Pot, Drip Filtered and more. Each coffee lists the brew methods available to it and the differing price points. I suspect that the differing prices reflects the different sizes of each brew method.

For a treat, I decided that we would order the Panama Esmeralda in a vac pot for twenty dollars. Twenty dollars sounds like a lot, and it is, but why not? We're here to get the full experience and we're gonna go for it.

The nice thing about the vac pot is that they prepare your coffee tableside. An Asian lady (who later said she was one of the owners) came out and prepared our coffee. Using a butane burner, the lady stood there heating the water then stirring the slush and brewed our coffee. They use a bit of a different approach at LA Mill than I prefer (they have a longer brew cycle) which I think muddles the flavor a bit, but we're rolling with it. The girl is a bit stiff and not as warm and friendly as her staff, which is a bit disappointing since you'd like to have someone with a modicum of enthusiasm about what they're doing serving you.

The Esmeralda was basically as you'd expect. Sweet, floral, nice. I thought the flavor was a bit muddled because of the longer brew time than I prefer, but could that be just my own mind telling me so? You be the judge. The coffee was good but it wasn't great. It wasn't the mind-blowing experience I was hoping it to be. But it was good and I think Al and Polly enjoyed it enough. Though they probably still wonder why I would rave about such an expensive coffee - if only they could have a sample of some of the Esmeralda I've tasted.

In the end, going to LA Mill was a good experience. They've raised the bar for coffee houses across America. Currently, there is nothing that rivals their approach anywhere in the world that I've visited.

But, with any luck, they won't be the only place like that for long...


LA Mill Coffee
1636 Silver Lake Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90026
323-663-4441
www.lamillcoffee.com

Sans Rival Shootout

A slice from Red Ribbon on the left, a silvana from Goldilocks on the right.

Sans Rival.

Nothing warms my heart more than this classic Filipino dessert. It's what I grew up dreaming about. Crispy sweet, baked meringue layered with sugared butter and chopped cashews. Immense. So good and so desired that for many years I was forbidden to eat it. It's that good.

As I got older and started leaving the nest of home for the great expanses of the world, my dreams of Sans Rival went with me. During my years in Hawaii, I would have the odd occasion to sample it here and there. Then I started traveling to the Philippines and found it occasionally there as well. Typically, I'd find it in the form of something called "silvanas," a sort of mini-Sans Rival. One of the best I found there was at a cafe called Figaro.

Fast forward to today. I haven't had Sans Rival in at least a year. Last year, we introduced the Sans Rival to our customers at The Spro. It sold decent numbers and we'll re-introduce it again this fall. I can't wait.

But today, we've decided to have a Sans Rival Shootout.

In Manila, one of my favorite bakeries is Red Ribbon. I just love their ham and cheese ensaymada. It's killer. In fact, whenever someone comes to visit from the Philippines, I always ask them to bring me a few. Please. Some people are fanatical about Goldilocks, but for my money, I prefer Red Ribbon.

While driving around Cerritos, I spotted the Red Ribbon and we stopped in to see if they had the ham and cheese ensaymada. No luck. Evidently, they just don't make the ham and cheese ensaymada in America. Bastards. But they do make Sans Rival and for eleven bucks you can have one to take home.

How could I say no?

With Sans Rival in tow, we pressed on and happened upon the local Goldilocks. Unlike Red Ribbon, they make ham and cheese ensaymada in the United States, but you've got to get here early because they sell fast. Too late for us. And while they also sold whole Sans Rival cakes, I thought that bringing home two would just be gluttony - even though it was in the name of science. We opted for the small, single serving Silvana instead.

Back at the house, it was time to put these two rival Sans Rivals head to head. Which one would prevail? Freshly brewed coffee was at hand and we were ready with our forks.

The Silvana from Goldilocks had more of a dry texture. Crumbly with a light sweetness but a waxy finish. The Sans Rival from Red Ribbon had a more pronounced butter flavor but also a light sweetness. It's meringue texture was softer and slightly chewy.

Truth is, both had their pluses and minuses, but neither emerged as the definitive leader.

To my mind, the perfect Sans Rival features chewy layers of baked meringue, with just a slight crisp resistance and is layered with sweet butter frosting that leaves a clean finish on the palate and some bits of cashews to chew on. It's addictive and evil in it's intent to lure you to continue eating the whole thing. It's sinful pleasure that you fantasize about after without guilt because you covet it so.

Someday, I'm going to find Sans Rival perfection. Until then, I'll be forced to make it at home.


Red Ribbon Bakeshop
11900 South Street 106
Cerritos, CA 90703
562-402-3304
www.redribbonbakeshop.com


Goldilocks Bakeshop
11489 South Street
Cerritos, CA 90703
562-860-7786
www.goldilocks.com.ph

Valerio's Bakery

Pan de Ube and Special Pandesal

My brother was probably too young to remember this, but when we were children on a family trip to the Philippines, we stayed at my lolo and lola's house in Tondo, Manila - a veritable "hood" of rascally characters, hooligans, rough kids and the like. Our father grew up in Tondo, around an area known as Triangulo, which is considered to be the world's most densely populated district.

While we were shielded from any of the rough life existing outside the family compound, a small bakery sat on the property and every morning the smell of fresh Pandesal would emanate from the small concrete bakery. It was this flavor of freshly baked pandesal and butter that would forever tie me to happy memories visiting Tondo, always reserving a special place in my heart for this simple bread of the people.

That's why I found it so exciting to be in Cerritos today visiting Valerio's Bakery. It's chock filled with good memories - even though I've never eaten any of their breads. Coming from a culturally void place like Baltimore, it's nearly shocking to see entire towns filled with ethnic communities, restaurants and bakeries, like you find here in Southern California. Looking for serious Japanese? No problem. Hawaiian? Got it. Korean? Of course. Filipino? You bet you're ass.


Pan de Siosa

And when it comes to Filipino bakeries, SoCal has them in spades. Whether it's Pandesal or kutsinta or otap or bibingka there's a place somewhere here that you can buy it baked fresh today. It's lovely.

If only I lived here, pops to mind. Not because I'd really like to live in SoCal, but rather because it would be nice to have this available at any time I desired. Like Polly, I could stock up on breads and have them for breakfast all week long. Suddenly, visions of hot pandesal slathered in butter are dancing in my head. I must have some now!

I better get outta here before it's too late!



Valerio's City Bakery
17210 Norwalk Boulevard
Cerritos, CA 90701
562-402-3244
www.valeriosbakery.com

Salo Salo Grill

Table Snacks



Sago at Gulaman, Melon and Buko drinks


Fresh Lumpia


Kare Kare


Adobong Vegetable


Garlic Fried Rice


Crispy Pata


Salo-Salo Grill
18300 Gridley Road #A
Artesia, CA 90701
562-809-6277

Breakfast Hermosa

Honey Bread from the local Japanese Bakery and some heavily toasted buns.