The first time I noticed this, I was staying in Hollywood and driving to a bookstore event in the hipster enclave of Silver Lake. And I wanted to stop on every other block and sample the restaurants that, like so many of my favorite spots in L.A., are located in the unassuming strip malls that dot the landscape of Southern California.
So on this past visit, last spring, I decided to do just that. The ground rules were simple. I’d take the recommendations of friends and take chances, pausing at spots that looked interesting. The only other stipulation was that these restaurants had to be on Sunset, a rule I broke only once to meet a friend for lunch at a cafe a few steps from the intersection of Sunset and Vine.
From the Pacific coast to the edge of West Hollywood, Sunset winds through patches of trees, past mansions and manicured lawns. As West Hollywood disappears in the rear view mirror, Sunset morphs into the trendy neighborhoods of Silver Lake and Echo Park, and finally disappears in the shadows of Chavez Ravine, where Dodger Stadium is located and which was once home to generations of Mexican-Americans.
I decided to start in West Hollywood — at the high end, so to speak — with the most expensive restaurant that I, my husband Howie, and our son Bruno would visit. As we headed east into Hollywood, I was feeling very L.A., sitting in the back of the SUV next to my infant grandson and tapping away at my phone to find the nearest appealing-sounding place. I remembered seeing The Church Key on Best New Restaurant, a reality show on the Bravo TV channel. What had lodged in my mind were the rolling carts of gourmet dim sum.
The waitress at The Church Key gracefully acknowledged that yes, in February 2015, they’d been on the show and lost, and indeed the spacious restaurant (whose manager came over to ask if we were enjoying our dinner) had the vibe of an establishment still trying to make things right; everyone we encountered was extremely solicitous and eager to please. In fact the food was excellent. From the small-plates menu we chose a delicious pork belly, a duck cassoulet, and potato pierogies. The first rolling cart brought complex and interesting variations on sushi. But I’d return just for the cocktail — the Smokin’ Chola, an ingenious combination of Mezcal and horchata, the Mexican rice drink — with which we began the meal and for the astonishing hot brioche doughnuts with which we ended it. One hallmark of having eaten well is that when the bill came we all agreed that, though hardly inexpensive, our dinner wasn’t nearly as costly as we’d imagined.
The next day, heading east and slightly down the scale from fine dining toward strip mall, we had lunch at the popular Hungry Cat in Hollywood (half a block off Sunset), an attractive and convenient place to meet a friend working just a few blocks away. Located down a short passageway, between a Walgreens drug store and an empty office space, the place was a bit of a challenge to find. We chose from a midday menu mostly composed of shellfish; we had chorizo and clams, mussels with pork belly, a crab cake sandwich and an excellent lobster roll. Burgers are also available for the seafood-averse. The Hungry Cat, which has other branches in the city, is best known for its lavish seafood platter with selections from the raw bar.
Sunset has any number of amazing breakfast spots, and I’ve watched locals make the difficult choice based on proximity and a phone call (especially necessary on weekends) to determine the length of the wait, which at some places can last over an hour. I’ve long been a fan of The Griddle Café, with its comfortable booths and generous servings: eggs Benedict served atop potato skins, and gargantuan pancakes, most notably the red velvet pancake topped with swirls of cream cheese icing. But on this visit, the Griddle Café was edged out (just slightly) for me by Alexander’s Brite Spot Diner, with its funky 1970s décor (seats upholstered in dark-red plastic, Formica tabletops) and fascinating clientele, some of whom seem to have been drawn there, after dancing in nearby clubs all night, by the promise of a dish called “The Hangover”: eggs, chicken andouille sausage, home fries, cheese, and habanero pesto.
Partly because the Brite Spot is a few blocks from Echo Park Lake, where I planned to walk off at least some of the calories, I feasted on their marvelous Chicken and Waffles, which features an extraordinarily crispy chicken breast (coated with cornflake crumbs and almonds) atop waffles slathered with butter and syrup. I’ve only been there for breakfast, not the hour when I’m mostly likely to order pie, but the appealing home-made pastries in the old-fashioned glass case always make me want to return later in the day — after that long walk, of course.
In my opinion, Sunset really gets good — from a food lover’s point of view — as you approach Silver Lake, where the boulevard begins to feel like a less crowded version of Williamsburg’s Bedford Avenue, and where you can browse the gourmet cheeses and fine wines at the Cheese Store of Silver Lake or have your caffeine brewed-to-order at Intelligentsia Coffee.
As the address numbers get down around 5000, one finds some of Los Angeles’ best Thai restaurants. The popular favorite (and reliable standby) is the excellent Jitlada, where I always order the spicy, crispy whole sea bass, the house special Morning Glory salad and try at least one of the Southern Thai specialties, rarely found elsewhere: lemon curries, black squid soup, and a vegetable dish whose principal ingredient is wild tea leaves. The servers are understanding and accommodating if you make your limited tolerance for spiciness clear, but be warned. Some dishes — a fiery beef curry among them — are delicious, but pure pain.
On this trip we decided to light out for new (Thai) territory, forgoing Jitlada for some of the other excellent spots nearby. Of all the places we visited, the one that made me feel most like an L.A. insider was Siam Sunset, partly because it was the most difficult to find. Its entrance is concealed inside the courtyard of a motel, America’s Best Value Inn, and the simple place is populated almost entirely by Thais who come especially for the marvelous breakfasts. Siam Sunset serves by far the best duck congee I’ve ever had, but for many customers the draw is the Hai Nan Chicken Rice. The soft, unctuous, boiled chicken is served over rice, garnished with fresh cucumber, and doused with a flavorful gravy made of soy sauce, chili, garlic, ginger and vinegar.
Further down Sunset is another Thai stand-out, Night+Market, which has proved so popular with customers, chefs and movie stars (Gwyneth Paltrow and Lena Dunham are regulars) that there are now two branches: one in West Hollywood, one in Silver Lake. The place is decorated (bright colors, beaded curtains, folksy knickknacks and movie-star posters) to resemble a simple café one might find by the side of the road or in a small city in Thailand; in an interview, chef Kris Yenbamroong said the décor has been compared to that of a teenager’s bedroom and a G.I. bar in Bangkok. The emphasis is on Thai street food — fresh, authentic, unusual.
Here too, the waiters are understanding if you ask them to keep the spice level low, though some dishes — the catfish tamale (catfish and pork baked in a banana leaf) and larblanna (chopped pork meat, liver and blood) refuse to be toned down. It hardly mattered; everything was delicious — the batter-friend octopus, the rice noodles with chicken and broccoli, the roast pork shoulder. By the end of the meal, I wanted to start all over, this time eating dishes I hadn’t tried, some of which contained ingredients exotic enough — steamed mashed waterbugs, fermented pork sausage — to require a group of daredevil eaters, prepared in advance with the spirit of adventure and a degree of mental resolve.
As Sunset approaches downtown Los Angeles, the area begins to resemble an older L.A., where the vibrant Mexican community thrived before being relocated by the construction of Dodger Stadium. The boulevard is lined with small Mexican and Salvadorean eateries, bodegas, and piñata stores. A Mexican friend recommended Guisados, a taqueria which turned out to be among my favorites of all the places we visited.
Over the years, after numerous trips to Mexico, I’ve flattered myself into thinking that I’m something of a taco connoisseur. And the tacos at Guisados were among the best I can remember. What made it all the more satisfying was the fact that a sampler plate of mini tacos (taquitos) eliminated the need to choose from among the many appealing varieties on offer. Among them was Steak Picado, a flank steak with green peppers and bacon; Bistek en Salsa Roja, beef with red bell peppers, tomatoes, chili de arbol, avocado and black beans; Mole Poblano, chicken breast in mole; Tinga de Pollo, shredded chicken with tomatoes, cabbage and chipotle chili; Chicharron, pork rinds simmered in green chili sauce; and Cochinita Pibil, shredded pork in a sweet, red achiote gravy. The aguafresca (fresh fruit waters) and the home-made horchata were also delicious.
After a week of eating my way up and down Sunset, I refused to go anywhere near a bathroom scale. Back home in New York, I was happy, certainly full, but ever so slightly dissatisfied. All I wanted was to return to L.A., to start from the other end of Sunset, and to try all the places — that Salvadorean pupusa restaurant, that South Indian spot, that hip cafe — that I didn’t have the time or the appetite to sample, this time around.
About the Author