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Where was I? Oh yeah; LACMA, lunch, LA Artfair  and then we crossed the street to Affordable Art Fair. And you know what? I don’t feel like writing about art anymore so I’ll give you the nutshell version. The LA Art Show was completely underwhelming. It consisted of redundant, soul-less art. Out of the entire Los Angeles Convention Center that housed the fair, I wrote down two names to look at in more detail. Two. That’s it.

The Affordable Art Fair (affordable meaning all art $10,000 and under) was actually much more diverse, creative and interesting. Blah blah blah. That’s it for art talk. Let’s go back to food.

I forgot to mention that I had dinner at a fabulously hip and incredibly delicious restaurant called LUKSHON. It’s in Culver City, in the Helms Bakery compound. It’s owned by a guy who is Jewish and was raised in Japan or by Japanese parents or wolves, or something like that. The Jewish/Japanese combination makes for items on the menu like Shanghai Matzo Ball Soup. I didn’t have it, but I will next time, because what’s not to love about spicy Matzo ball soup?? And wait! Isn’t Shanghai in China? I could have this whole story wrong. You’ll have to research it yourself.

Lukshon Patio - image swiped from their website, because I didn't take any pictures for once.

We sat on the warmly heated patio and shared a few small plates. Every one of them was good, but here are the ones that stuck in my memory palate:

1. Spicy Chicken Pops. Dear God, get these if you go. They are chicken legs from a very small chicken that are coated in spicy heaven. Get two orders. For yourself.

2. Brussel Sprouts. No, really. These aren’t your English grandma’s Brussel Sprouts. These are Jewish/Japanese/Chinese(?) small, blackened nuggets of green that taste like – well we couldn’t decide what they taste like, but boy they were epic.

3. Heirloom Black Rice. It comes with a fried egg on top and is like silky bits of rice-tasting black gold that are infused with a bouquet of yet more mystery tastes. Satisfying.

We were all full and complete with just the small plates.

Skipping ahead, my last night in LA was spent sitting by the fire and eating pizza, YESSSSS!


Pizza and I had been on an enforced separation due to over indulgence during the holiday season, but now we are back together. Or we were the other night. Seriously, this pizza was SOOOOOO good it eclipsed the recent Jewish/Japan/China food. My friend Miss M got it from a place called PITFIRE.

Now, I am no novice when it comes to pizza. Bread and cheese in any combination are a weakness for me and I will seek them out wherever I am. We had this:

THE BURRATA PIE:  Burrata Cheese / Tomato Sauce / Wild Arugula Caramelized Onion / Hazelnut / Pesto Drizzle

Mama Mia it was insane! The Burrata was like soft, warm, cream, the arugula was cool and crispy, the crust was fresh baked and smokey, like you had just baked it over a camp fire (or you could call it a PITFIRE. Duh!). My only problem with this pizza was that my friend M had not MADE me have it sooner. She should know better.

While eating our pizza from heaven we watched THE IDES OF MARCH which was a snooze fest, to be honest. It was only interesting when there was a possibility of Ryan Gosling maybe taking off his clothes. I KNOW! Totally not a feminist comment, but whatever.

This did not happen in Ides of March.

I’m sick of the corruption of our current broken political system and movies about corrupted and broken political systems and I will admit to dozing off once or twice. One noteworthy moment was the identification of Jennifer Ehle as Clooney’s unsuspecting wife. You BBC Pride and Prejudice fans will know of whom I speak.

The next morning it was back on the train and home to work.

Bridge from a train.

It was a Sunday morning, so the train was practically empty. Again, a stress free ride up the coast, no road rage, no traffic. Views of railroad yards and scenes only visible from the vantage point of a train.

Graffitied rail cars, illegal camp sites, police cars, piles of trash, and more graffiti.


At one point in Simi Valley, we passed a small town that was all facades, with worn out curtains blowing through glassless windows – obviously a studio set, but completely surreal. I didn’t have my camera ready, so we rushed past with only my mouth agape at the strange land going by.

This has been, indeed, a strange post starting out about art and then rapidly going to where my passions lie – food and shirtless men. If you’ve read this far, you deserve a pizza and now you know where to get a good one.

Bon Appetit.

Miss MoL