Perhaps the Thai noodle house of my dreams
4356 Fountain Ave. (just west of Sunset, in Silver Lake)
Phone: 323-666-5993 | map | website

Already I am pleased. The walls are painted an electric Tiffany blue, and there is a massive chalkboard menu with skillfully sketched portraits of, for unknown reasons, Bruce Lee, Ray Charles, Elvis Presley, Rod Stewart and Barack Obama, plus what may be some family members of this restaurant.

The people here are amazingly nice and helpful, gently admonishing you not to wait too long until you return.

A carafe of cucumber-infused water is brought to you, of which you will drink all. All the utensils and condiments are on your table in neat modern containers, including a brownish green hot sauce that is instantly vigorous but flavorful, and which returns again and again to visit you and remind you to drink all your water.

We have had nothing here that we haven't loved. The Crispy Veggie Egg Rolls are a good start, a septet of nicely fried cylinder halves in a formal dance around an understated dipping sauce. Glass noodles and black mushrooms make the taste clear and divine.

I do not typically order a Thai coconut soup, preferring other broths, and Bianca is usually a fan of udon while I am not, but the Tom Kha Udon is a convincing missionary. The noodles are of perfect consistency, not thick, spongy and elastic as often encountered. Big beautiful slabs of tofu can be hauled up with chopsticks.

The broth is superb, tiny islands of red and orange in a milky sea; it is hot, sour and balanced, with just enough bits of lemongrass for flavor without making it a sargasso of inedible parts. It gains complexity as the surface lowers.

Bianca: The further down this rabbit hole I go, the better it gets.

This, though, is the reason I come here. Their namesake, Wat Dong Moon Lek, is a beef noodle soup, which they have. They also have this pork interpretation of it. The scent alone is intoxicating, the intense broth a porky, salty wonder. The rice noodles are thin but not limp or fragile, rivaling the lusty comfort of ramen. Bean sprouts mix with the noodles, cooked until supple. The pork has a remarkable tenderness between brisket and goose liver, and provokes thought. Shreds of fresh and snarky green onion float around a single, perfect meatball.

We order both soups spicy, and add some of that hot sauce anyway, which nearly compels me to put my dark glasses on over my tear-stained eyes to hide my rookie status. They are, however, tears of joy, for this is a new lunchtime place for me.

A small plate of Hainan Chicken Rice will cure all your ailments. Steamed chicken slices, a sticky mound of garlic rice, and a spicy soy ginger sauce come with a cup of some of the best chicken broth I've tasted, transparent and subtle without a sodium smack.

The Yellow Curry Tofu is just plain well-constructed, generating a slow burn on the tongue. Dense, toothsome potatoes and carrots are cushioned by blocks of tofu, all soaking up a red-polka-dotted broth that turns a pleasing brownish yellow with a swirl of the spoon.

The Pad See Ew with Tofu is tofu blocks fried or soft, Chinese broccoli, and egg assembled over flat noodles. Normally flat noodles irritate me due to being a solid Cthulhoid mass of stuck-together noodles that you may as well use a knife on, but these are still supple and full of saucy flavor.

Besides the much-needed water, to drink there's chrysanthemum tea, but it's in bottles. Go for the Thai iced coffee, sweet and lush and tongue-coating.

Credit goes to Bianca here, for finding a corner advertisement in L.A. Weekly, stabbing it with a finger, and telling me it was time for lunch.

Wat Dong Moon Lek is cash only, and not bad pricewise. It's in a corner mall with fair parking.

Crisp and clear Italian in Pasadena
25 E. Colorado Blvd. (east of Fair Oaks, in Pasadena)
Phone: 626-795-3131 | map | website

The main strip along Old Town Pasadena hasn't many old-style Italian joints. Mi Piace has a glassy, designy interior that isn't inspired so much as brisk and effective. However, the black-clad, willowy waitstaff is friendly and attentive, Sinatra's playing, and the menu is legit. A lounge area and bar peeks from a dark corner.

Bianca and I are waiting on a good friend, so we pile on the appetizers. The Calamari Fritti is an most excellent example of squid done well, a gentle fried crunch with tones of lime and cilantro; it's given zest and authority by the jalapeño dipping sauce.

The Patate Fritte--I know. French fries? At an Italian place? Why, Dave? Look, we're hungry and don't feel like caprese at the moment--are thin columns of spiced gold, tossed with cayenne, rosemary and oregano. The spicy ketchup and honey mustard are fun but add mostly color.

Bianca is enamored of butternut squash and all its autumnal glory, and therefore the Butternut Squash Soup suits well, thick with cream and silky with a slight vegetal sniff of disdain.

They do pastas here lightly, with a subtle yet confident hand. The Rigatoni con Salsiccia has mild but juicy crumbled Italian sausage, rapini wilted just so (spinach would assert itself too heavily here), sun-dried tomatoes and intimidating slices of garlic, every item singing clearly and defined. The white wine and pecorino cheese sauce bring them together vibrantly on the tongue.

Parking is wishful thinking along the street, but this stretch of Colorado has a number of public lots nearby.

Thanks to Marcia for letting us tag along with her.

Organic and vegetarian reconsidered
345 N. La Brea (north of Beverly)
Phone: 323-857-0412 | map | website

It might be Sante Cuisine now instead of Sante La Brea, and it might have had a rocky beginning, and it might have had its menu revamped by Gordon Ramsay, but I'm afraid I got here after all this happened. Let others argue about it; to me it seems to have hit its eclectic stride on this busy/quiet stretch of La Brea.

The interior is a darkened counter area that's dark, modern and leafy, but there is a comforting rustic wooden patio, decorated as if a yoga studio or a Thai massage parlor suddenly sprouted inside an Idea. A stone waterfall mixes with background grooves and the drone of passing cars.

This is actually refreshing, and you must trust us even while we tell you it's made with chlorophyll and alkaline water. The Green-Aid Slushy looks like an overdose of Nyquil, but is nowhere near as terrifyingly vegetal as it appears; with lime juice and agave (which is rapidly becoming the coolest sweetener this side of Elysium), it's cooling and healthy.

The soups are satisfyingly expressed. The Tortilla Soup is a thick puree with a southwestern roasted red pepper vibe, and is just plain bowl-scrapingly good. A few freshly made tortilla strips add a scratchy wholesomeness to the texture.

The Vegan Chili (or turkey if you like; Sante provides for its non-vegetarian diners) has a real "ground meat" feel, with beans and spices and density. It is, for want of a better word, hearty. Fresh scallions and carrot strips give crunch. Both bowls come with a pair of crispy pita chips.

As a fine introduction to the well-thought menu of Sante, the Chicken Sandwich can be chicken proper or vegan Chick-un (despite its pointless name, I don't mind the latter texturewise). The chick-un is marinated and grilled firm, thickly cut and dense; like a breast of chicken, you must find the "grain" to bite across, on peril of pulling it out from underneath the rustic, pitted whole wheat roll. There is leafy green lettuce, a subtle vegan dijonaise, and some red onions are sautéed into submission on top.

With this is Rosemary Red Potatoes, cut into half-inch rounds and grilled to a fork-tender, pleasant orange. There is a slaw as well, freshly chopped but with too much of a sour dressing for my liking.

Bianca is on a beet salad kick, and the Beet Beet Salad [sic] is a deeply purpled favorite of hers, sans the toasted pine nuts usually scattered atop. It's not complicated: mixed greens with a handful of feta cheese and a dressing-coated bit of slaw, and there is no need to hunt through the salad to find the beets, for there is a goodly amount, leaving the plate a red-stained joy. The lemon vinaigrette is greenish and balanced.

Sante is open until ten most days. There seems to be an abbreviated parking lot in the alley, but otherwise there should be some open meters on La Brea.

Many thanks to Jeff and a greeting of namaste to Ashaa for the recommendation.

Long live the crunchy taco
2400 Fletcher Dr. (@ Riverside)
Phone: 323-660-5988 | map | website

You know these places. They're laid back, they may or may not have a drive-through, they serve everything from burritos to grilled cheese to milkshakes, and they're usually called Tom's, or Pete's, or Paul's. This is Rick's*.

Laid back it is, a comfortable place to pause before getting on the 5 freeway or going up Riverside Drive to a Dodger game. It would be the hangout if there was a high school nearby. If you aren't going through the drive-through, order at the counter; they will bring it after they've located you by shouting your name over whatever music is playing in Spanish on the jukebox.

The burgers are not so much genius as genial, with familiar patties not quite as thick as your pinky, and like Damon says at A Hamburger Today, you really need two of them to obtain enough flavor with which to work. Get cheese with this, not for taste, but for greater structural durability. I like the pile of shredded lettuce, fresh and apt to rain endlessly down onto one's plate and hands. The tomato is also fresh, but may be too thick for this endeavor. The presence of thousand island dressing makes this reminiscent of a Big Mac, except edible. It's simple and understandable, a little perilous to your arteries, and probably won't be your favorite, but you know you can rely on it if you need to.

Rick's does make Chili Fries as satisfactory as they come, the half-inch beams of potato stained under a mantle of yellow and white shredded cheese. And, hooo! they will put a ton of fresh, pungent onion on this if you ask. The chili is a rocky beefy sort, made for fries, and the fries are made for chili, and the whole affair is a dysfunctional family of comfort food that Bianca would really prefer I don't consume since she cares about my health and such.

There is a thoroughly unMexican oddity particular to North America, which I admit is one of my favorite childhood foods. It is the crunchy taco, and Rick's does it up proper: ground meat, iceberg lettuce, and enough of that yellow and white shredded cheese to fill an Austin Cooper, melted slightly into the ground beef. The shell is forced open to a 45-degree angle by its contents. They give you a fork, because they know.

The carne asada burrito is a neatly wrapped torpedo, cooked to an honest government-approved greyness yet retaining its moisture. Crisp, dark green leaves of cilantro line the tortilla, along with rice, onions and, as if startled to be there, beans.

Both the tacos and the burritos are made an order of magnitude greater with some liberally applied salsa from squeeze bottles. Both the green and the red are seedy and strong with chile flavor, just hot enough for a sniff or two.

The milkshakes here are thick, with real ice cream, just liquid enough to draw through a straw without hurting yourself.

Rick's is also comfortably ensconced in Alhambra, Gardena, East L.A. and Whitter.

* And this is their motto: "Anytime You're Hungry, Everybody goes to Rick's!" ... Wow! Every time I'm hungry, everyone else has to go on a road trip. I had no idea I affected the world that way.

More afternoon food-caused relaxation
W-17 Olvera Street
Phone: 213-628-4349 | map

Still operated by the de Bonzo family, this is the first L.A. eatery to call itself a Mexican restaurant (instead of Spanish), in 1924.

We've never even set foot inside the Pelanconi building, the oldest firebrick structure remaining in Los Angeles. We're always trapped by love and laziness under the wood-shaded patio with old wagon wheels nailed to the sides, to enjoy the sounds and scents of Olvera Street, looking across the bricked lane at El Paseo Inn.

Bianca orders a La Cubana (Dos Equis and lime juice on the rocks in a salted glass) or "The Real Mexican" Margarita (teeth-stingingly strong, not overly sweet, on the rocks in an unsalted cocktail glass). I lean toward an agua fresca like jamaica or horchata.

The chips are hit or miss, usually fair enough but not heavy on salt or heat, and the salsa is mainly blended into a bubbly, runny liquid with a serrano bite. The guacamole is cool and fresh, but whipped into creamy collapse. They are not a destination in themselves. The soft tortillas here, however, are medium-sized, thin and springy, raspy with flour and have an intriguing hint of sourness. These will arrive with your meal.

Here, one does not (or should not) go for the typical combinaciones--the One or Two Items served with rice and beans. The page of specialties will give one more of a feeling of Mexican derivation.

The Enchiladas de Mariscos, for instance, has fine threads of shredded king crab and fat, pale shrimp rolled in tortillas like soft cloth. The affair is drizzled with white sauce, given some cheese, and glazed in a shroud of a tomatillo salsa. Half a chile pepper lies on the plate for heat.

The Guisado de Puerco con Nopales is what angels order when they come down to Mexican villages for lunch. The blanket of green on top is a wonderful stew of chiles and fresh julienned cactus, soft without being limp. Beneath that, imbued with the tartness of the cactus, is pork. I am slow and dreamy when I'm done, unable to scrape the bottom. I have no photo of it.

Bianca's new unexpected favorite is the Chile Relleno de Jaiba, a ladleful of that elegant king crab stuffed in a roasted pepper and draped with a tomatoey mushroom sauce. The dark green chile pepper is meant, I had assumed, to be a nonspicy poblano, but biting into it, it sneaks up on you and pounds you on the back like an exuberant uncle.

The specialties here can be expensive for an "authentic" Mexican restaurant, upwards of fourteen dollars. The drinks are a frown-inducing but typical-for-Los-Angeles twelve bucks.

North Valley Vegetarians Unite
17823 Chatsworth St. (in Granada Hills)
Phone: 818-360-3997 | map | website

Admittedly, if I was hired to track down some really outstanding and innovative vegetarian Chinese food, I would not expect to search along the aging stretch of Chatsworth Street in Granada Hills, within a thousand feet of my old high school*. But there it is; Vegetable Delight, despite its wartorn exterior, has my full support. Stare for a moment at the beautifully carved wooden mural in the window before entering.

Walking inside, you may wonder if you have plunged down a rabbit hole into a wedding in Toyland. Rows of gold-trimmed white booths gleam under ceiling tiles of powder blue; the water glasses are stuffed with baby pink pastel napkins. Somehow it's a happy absurdity, especially with the sound of keyboards and strings plunking Chinese melodies above, or of bereaved little piano concertos.

You suddenly realize that the room has the same salmon-and-spearmint color scheme as a Madame Alexander doll box. You may also suddenly wonder why Dave knows what the Madame Alexander color scheme is.

This is what you must order, because we say so. The "Chinese Pancake" is puffed and very slightly sweet, not entirely dissimilar to a wonton, perfect as is but utterly gush-worthy when you drip some of the lemony sauce over it. It is the appetizer of champions.

The Hot & Sour soup is pleasingly gelatinous, not dense enough to stand a spoon in but slowing everything down to a meditative crawl. It is rich, and beautiful, and obviously not one of those packaged deals other Chinese places might dole out. The Spring Rolls here also seem fresher than expected.

The Veggie Fish in Hot Bean Sauce may or may not have MSG, but is made of OMG. It looks a little dubious what with the lonely and purposeless carrots, peas and corn, like one of those TV dinners that used to come covered in foil instead of plastic. Pay no attention. These deep-fried "filets" with a thin skin of seaweed have a light crunch, in a thick, not-really-hot orange sauce, are insanely good. The chefs at Vegetable Delight are concerned with making flavorful dishes rather than merely cranking out the usual fare with meatless analogs.

The Tofu with Hot Bean Sauce, despite its similar naming convention, is totally different. Lightly fried triangular prisms of tofu** are combined with chopped green pepper and tiny mushrooms cut into quarters, as if to resemble peanuts; the sauce is thinner but soaks into the tofu nicely.

The Szechwan Shredded Veggie Beef has a slight textural resemblance but isn't fooling anybody. However, it's got a full-bodied presence, and combined with carrots and Chinese mushrooms cut into scalloped lengths, it's downright savory.

They kindly provide small dishes of red chili paste, decently hot, and a strong, take-a-blowtorch-to-your-nostrils Chinese mustard.

Vegetable Delight is open until 9:30 as Chinese restaurants often are, and are closed on Mondays, like restaurants over the hill often are. Come here for lunch. Why? Lunch and a Chinese pancake, enjoyed with a cup of hot tea, is under ten bucks.

* Going in the other direction, it's also a thousand feet from the seedy and abominable Oh Grady's, at which our good friends Bandwagon have played on occasion, and who hopefully will not be banned from Oh Grady's for my having called it seedy and abominable.

** This will be the name of my band if I ever create one. The Triangular Prisms of Tofu. Mathematically uniform and high in protein!