Some of the LH neighbors have some amazing plants growing in the yard. These folks have some agaves, I think it’s the prettiest plant in the world.
This entry violates my intended goal of focusing on LH examples of this dish, but the shop I was going to hit closed up early, might as well salvage this Friday with an excursion to nearby Highland Park and it’s little food gem known as Tacos Michoacan. (5933 York Blvd. 323.258.0794) Lately the food at Michoacan has been lacking that kick of flavor it once had but this dish was decent, a good basic example. The diced nopalitos were okay though not of the fresh variety, the red tomato/chile sauce did a fine job of enhancing the flavor of the ground up shrimp powder in the tortitas. I should state that all the entries i’ve tried so far seem to have the same sort of shrimp flavor, I figure they all just use the ground up powder we can all get at the market. Some add a bit more or a bit less, but it’s basically the same flavor. The only drawback of this dish were the tortitas; they were so tough and dense I bent a couple of forks trying to cut them up. Nah, not really, but I did break a knife. Ha, JK! But seriously, they are tough, I thinks that means they beat their eggs too long, somebody should report them to the egg board for ovo-abuse. Michoacan also makes a strange but tasty version of Mexican rice (it’s almost like a pilaf) and they have some really good and unique salsas as well.
This dish is not bad and worth a try, just be careful not to break your teeth! EL CHAVO!
This lil’ monster caused a double take: can a dog be so angry that it freezes itself in place? It looks like it. But on further inspection, it may just be some weird plastic or paper mache sculpture watching the door. Creepy bastard fooled me for a second.
In my last post, I mentioned the disconnect between the LA I know and the one that others write about, that one with the hollywood gossip. It turns out that there was an explosion of Mi LA over the weekend, namely the little march of a million people. That’s just perfect. If you want to see what I saw during the march click on this here link, http://www.chanfles.com/protest/index.html
I recently started using a blog feed program and decided to add some local blogs to see how the rest of LA lives; man was that an eye-opener. I thought of myself as less naive than others but I think that’s made me more ignorant than I imagined. The Los Angeles I know, the one that I love and hate, doesn’t even exist to most of those that write about this city. The city I know is merely a subplot in some screenplay, a mere backdrop to the real action happening elsewhere. I learn this everyday when I scroll through the latest postings that make their way to my indiscriminate collection of feeds, a virtual grab-bag of snide commentary, cynical (back) stabs at honesty, and most revealing, derisive opinions about others that speak volumes about the observers own upbringing (class, culture, values) than they do about the subject being mocked.
Take for example these photo sets that have been linked somewhere. Yes, much of it made me laugh and some of the contributed commentary is spot on. It’s just a click away to soak in a bunch of pictures that let you laugh at fools wearing the wrong garments, yet you remain relatively anonymous, a guilty pleasure that is easy to indulge. It’s kinda fucked up, the person getting insulted doesn’t even have the chance to punch you in the face, and that’s probably why I find it mildly disturbing. This new form of random shooting highlights the worst aspects of the internet: a tool for communication becomes yet another way to belittle others. Instead of pushing for an expanded potential, the road of isolated sniping gets another traveller. It’s high school without repercussions. Though they may be in their “right”, what does it say about the photographer that hunts down the next subject aware that they will be an object of ridicule? What should we make of those that expend energy just to capture an unsuspecting person in their worst possible light?
I’ve been perplexed knowing that some of my fellow LA citizens have such an odd, almost misanthropic, vision of our mutual place, almost as if we lived in two very different cities. I’m having to reassess my understanding of Los Angeles and the people within it, and it seems very likely that, despite the proximity, we really do live in different places.
I was sidetracked last week but I’m back on the hunt for Tortas de Camaron, the availability of these is quickly slipping away! Today’s outing was at Villa Restaurant (3300 N. Broadway 323.225.8806) right near Lincoln High, site of the famous 1968 Walkouts, though I didn’t see anybody skipping school for today’s walkouts, maybe I was a bit late. If I had seen some kids I’d have told them it’s probably a good idea to skip school anytime they want a decent lunch, because the Tortitas at Villa are an indication that they care about food. The cook corrected me when I asked for tortas de camaron, she calls them ‘Tortitas’, since they specialize in Guadalajara style ‘Tortas Ahogadas’ they need to make a distinction. Whatever you call them, make sure you call them lunch.
I’m running out of descriptions to use that will explain the uniqueness of each weekly entry, after all, it is the same basic plate! Well this one is a bit different, in the very least that they diced the nopalitos, I think I prefer them that way. Maybe the small size, which means you can eat both nopales and tortita at the same time, accentuates the sponginess of the tortita and makes for a different texture and mouthfeel. Can that make a difference? It’s irrelevant really because something in this plates’ totality makes it thoroughly fullfilling, and the savory red sauce ties it all in like a nice little package. The little bow on top would have to be the tortillas de maiz hechas a mano, freshly made and a perfect complement. That makes a huge difference. I get bent out of shape thinking about the crap that passes for tortillas de maiz (Guerrero, Mission, etc.) at most grocery stores and restaurants; imagine if you went to Angelique Cafe and instead of a baguette they served you Wonder Bread? That would be the equivalent. Lucky for you, that miserable fate can be avoided here.
This was my first foray into Villa and I’m sure i will be going back. Dale gas Amigo, se acaban las Tortas! EL CHAVO!
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