Bottega Louie: Heaven on 7th and Grand

I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

Food heaven that is. My first time walking in Bottega Louie got some getting used to. Walking into its cavernous center, you're enveloped by white space and a flurry of activity.

On the right, there is the gleaming silver kitchen, inhabited by silent cooks  producing plates of  technicolor entrees and sides—they're so close that you can reach out and pick off a roasted tomato garnish. That is, if the clear glass partition wasn't in the way.

On the left, neatly dressed bartenders mixes up old fashion drinks for an equally well-dressed crowd. And behind, oh my, tidy rows of baked goods and deli items patiently wait for you to give them a new home.

To the front, a stately gold and marble table sits with a single light and a giant book of records, where a calm gatekeeper, I mean, hostess, politely asks for your last name. For the rest of your stay, that is exactly how they will address you. A bit old fashioned, but welcome nevertheless.

I've dine at Bottega Louie five times since it opened, and  to this day, it still gets some getting used to the grand scale of the restaurant. Other pleasant surprises are their extensive menu, the prices (you're definitely getting your money's worth), and their service.

Now, the service is no where near perfect. In fact, there's almost always a little mishap during my visits—a dish goes missing, or the waiter seems to have disappeared—these are normal for a relatively new restaurant. What is impressive is how they fix the problems promptly and earnestly.

Also, a man in gray (Eric) usually comes around sometime during your meal and ask for your opinion and cater to your whims, which is a bonus. Once, my friend exclaimed how delicious BL's homemade apple sauce (the accompaniment to the pork chops—must get) was and in a few minutes, he came back to produced 2 gravy pitchers full of the cinnamon goodness for her as a dessert.

Although the decor and the service are both stellar, the true star is the food. Their cuisine is simple and filling, featuring fresh ingredients—you can really taste the difference. Here is my list of must-get dishes:

1. Portabello Fries: Giant strips of the mushroom are lightly battered and fried with a light covering of parsley and grated parmesan. Unbelievable when dipped in their basil aoili.

2. Pork Chops: You get not one, not two, but three juicy and expertly charred chops. The accompanying apple sauce tastes just sweet enough and with the added zing of Christmas cheer (it makes for an awesome dessert).

3. Trenne: Triangular tubes of pasta are pan fried on one side and served with a rich beef stew and saute kale. I've never seen this served anywhere else.

4. Peas with prosuitto: Sweet, tender fresh peas that tastes nothing like the frozen starchy stuff served anywhere else, flavored with shallots and good pork.

5. Eggs Benedict: Textbook good. The spinach cuts through the richness of the heavy sauce nicely.

6. Butterscotch Budino: Silky smooth butterscotch pudding, topped with a layer of caramel, a sprinkling of sea salt and freshly whipped cream. You won't want to share this.

7. Fruit tart and white chocolate baguette: If you still have room, get a tart or any baked goods from their bakery. I usually take them home, mmm.

Writing about Bottega Louie is enough to make my mouth water—how fortunate am I to work just mere blocks away? I think I'll just pop on in next week...

Bottega Louie

700 S Grand Ave

Los Angeles, CA 90017

(866) 418-9162

bottegalouie.com

French Dipping at Cole's

Sometimes, it's good to judge a book by its cover. That was how my friend and I found this historic sandwich shop--as we walked along Main street early one night, Cole's neon sign caught our attention. We walked closer and upon inspection of the lacquered signs and gold leaf window messaging, I was drawn just like a moth to a candlelight--must be the graphic design blood in me.

After the shortest deliberation ever with my friend (literally an exchange of nods), we walked in and grabbed a open booth. While we waited for our waitress, we soaked in the interiors. Felted red wallpaper lined the sides of the dining room, with countless picture frames of black & white photos stuck in a haphazard grid. There was also antique lamps with Cole's painted on the big glass bulbs. It was a feast for the eyes.

The food was up to par as well, as they should be since according to their menu, Cole's was the originator of the French dip. I had the pastrami dip while my friend had their original beef dip. Since we placed our orders before 7p, we were able to get the half-sandwich and fries combo for just $5 via their happy hour special.

The combo came in a gold and black wicker basket--a generous serving of shaved pastrami on a toasted french roll, orange tinted spicy-garlic fries and a separate plate that housed a steaming cup of au jus and a single pickle spear.

The sandwich was solid, with tender beef and a crispy roll that was lightly scented by garlic oil. A short dip in the au jus gave the sandwich an extra layer of flavor as the bread soaked up the broth. Although, I must say, Cole's has nothing on Johnnie's in Culver City. Side note:  According to Cole's menu, they started serving dip sandwiches to accommodate patrons with bad gums. Not a very appealing story, but interesting nevertheless.

The spicy garlic fries were piping hot from the fryer as they were inadequately drained, but tasted good with the added garlic flavored oil. Now that I think about it, it tasted almost the same as the Japanese shrimp chips.

The big downside of Cole's was their service. My friend and I suspect our waitress suffers from short-term memory lost because she tried to take our order twice, then proceeded to forget my friend's beer order. To which he reminded her twice, and then to a different server. He gave up halfway through our meal and asked our waitress to cancel the order, but then she charged us anyways for the missing beer. It was a pity as it marred an otherwise great dinner experience.

Cole's

118 E 6th St.

Los Angeles, CA 90014

213.622.4090

www.colesfrenchdip.com

Bacon Rhapsody at the Nickel Diner

I first read about the Nickel Diner through Potatomato (one of my trusty go-to guides) a few months back, specifically about their maple-bacon donut. While I filed it away in my mental food rolodex, I'll admit I forgot about its location till early this week, when I had to do some research on nearby restaurants near Club Nokia for dinner before the Royksopp(!) concert. Little did I know the Nickel Diner was mere blocks away from my work.

The reason I've never seen it during my commute is because the Diner is tucked away in between several sketch "hotels" and hidden by a strong stench of eau d'urine. Believe me that you don't want to walk around the area by yourself at night.

But once you bypass the shady looking characters en route to the diner and walk though the Nickel's welcoming glass doorway, you are instantly transported to the 50s, as the interiors are outfitted with rich burgundy leather booths, old counters and tile floors. Atop the metal counters are tiers of tantalizing desserts (the s'more cake looked extra fetching that night)--the only way you know you're in the present is the artsy-looking crowd dining in nearby tables.

The food the diner serves are old-timey classics, but with a modern twist. For my dinner, I ordered their Smac & Cheese, which may seem straightforward and even pedestrian to some, but it was surprising how amazing it was. They bathe large elbow macaronis in a creamy mixture of melted cheddar, fontina, mozzarella and a kicker, pepper jack. Then they top it with a big slice of roasted tomato, a sprinkling of paprika, buttered bread crumbs and bake it till it's a bubbling cheese party.

And what a party it was, you first get the gooey richness of the cheeses, then the slow heat from the pepper jack and paprika. Next is the random crunch from the baked bread crumbs and the freshness of the tomato and chopped parsley which did well to temper the heaviness of the dish. What a pleasant surprise to experience a diner that knows how to create balanced dishes.

My friend had their pulled pork sandwich with onion rings, both of which was aptly prepared as well. I tried a ring, which was perfectly fried with a shatteringly crunchy exterior.

Although it was a tough control my urge to finish my entire dinner, I forced myself to stop so I could make room for their famed donut. If you want to know my honest opinion about it, I say double yes! The maple donut was a dream, a fluffy, yet substantial donut in a thin vanilla glaze and a generous covering of crunchy maple bacon bits. It's a must-try for all first-timers. In fact, if I was the mayor of LA, I would enact a new public plan that would provide meat lovers with a maple-donut of their very own... weekly.

Until that dream comes true, I guess I'll be back in the near future to try their other offerings. Bet you a nickel that they'll be delicious as well.

Nickel Diner

524 S Main St

Los Angeles, CA 90013

(213) 623-8301

www.5cdiner.com

Church & State, a Food Oasis in Downtown

Located in the heart of industrial (ie. ghetto) downtown LA is Church & State, a quaint French bistro. This unassuming restaurant inhabits the first floor of a biscuit-factory-turned-luxury-lofts-building—a welcome sight for two ravenous foodies. Walking inside the airy space reminds oneself of a lively New York eatery, sans the communal tables. 

Before we had even taken our seats, our server immediately asked if she could bring us a bottle of flat or sparkling water. Notice the key word “bottle,” which equates to “would you like to pay $6 for a bottle of water?” Not knowing any better, my friend and I unwittingly chose the former. 

Minor pique aside, my meal can only be described as a starving man’s foray in a desert oasis—I ate till I could eat no more.

They started us with an amuse bouche of  lighter-than-air Grougeres, a wonderful concoction of savory cheesy cream puffs. 

Next was the freshest baguette I’ve ever had. It had a hearty crust with a fluffy and steaming-hot interior— they must have pulled the bread right out of the oven before rushing it to our table. Magnificent. 

We were barely done with the baguette when our server brought us the beignets de brandade de morue. Or as I like to say, little fried balls of goodness. They take traditional brandade, which is a humble French casserole of cod and potatoes, form the mixture into golf ball-sized spheres, then fried for maximum effect. Paired with saffron aioli, these beignets kick traditional crab cakes to the curb. 

Now we’re warming up. Our next dish was moules mariniere—steamed mussels steeped in white wine, garlic and shallots with fries fried in lard. That’s right, pork fat. Forget about your diet and what you have been told about the evils of saturated fat. Just dive in because this is one of those life experiences that you’ll never forget and will always remember with a smile. 

At this point, I was getting quite full, but our main courses were arriving so the show must go on. My friend ordered the Loup de mer, a solid dish of pan seared sea bass with a caper lemon sauce, while I had the beef short rib a la Bourgeoise. This was the only dish that failed to amaze due to the chef’s liberal use of salt—the tender beef and accompanying fresh vegetables’ natural taste were subjugated by the overly harsh sauce. Even after a redo by the chef, I still had alternate each bite with a sip of water before resigning all together. 

Luckily, my friend suggested we get dessert, which ended the meal on a very high note. We shared their strawberry and rhubarb cobbler a la mode and it was amazing to say the least. A tart fruit mixture, baked with a cookie crust, and finished a scoop of vanilla ice cream made for a delightful interplay of textures and temperature. A perfect end to an (almost) perfect dinner.