A simple thank you to heroes

So let’s talk bravery cousins, simple bravery. We have all heard the words, we all know the meaning. Athena knows we all have faced things that have terrified us, and come out the other side.

But beloved, there are some who face things that terrify every living thing and come out the other side. Fire fighters are those who face a terrible hungry enemy who is gigantic and grows only larger if not combated. Any living thing with a hot red pump is secretly or opening afraid of fire.

An old alohaloa once told your own Metrowalker that fire is alive, that it has intelligence , and will actively seek to kill any fool who underestimates it. He once told your own uncle that fire once chased him up a staircase where there was no fuel to burn, when it could have roared into a room full of torchable cosas.

So short and sweet cousins, I would like to say thank you to all of you warriors who put yourselves in harms way to save stuff, and lives, and me. This bad ol city has experienced the worst wild fires it has seen in many years, and you have battled the monster with such bravery and courage that it has been relegated to the stuff of talking heads on the 2d, and worried casual discussion around water coolers.

I salute your valour, and your courage and if any of you should meet Uncle in the 3d, step up tell me what you do,and I will buy you a cold one and salute you like the heroes you are.

Lifting my spirits and some heavy metal

Has it been so long since we have written cousins? Oh the shame, well here I am back with you again, Metrowalker! Your very own lord of misrule!

I hear you my dear brothers and sisters, crying out that this big old evil metro is making you feel deep dark and blue? I too! I too! So your own Metrowalker went a jaunting not too long ago to find a little something to raise his flagging spirits, and lighten the old murmuring red pump.

First there was the little matter of levitating the ferro cousins, everything seems so much nicer when your muscles are rewarding you with happy dappy bursts of dopamine from their over use, and your own Uncle loves the weird buzz he gets from the little bits of sangre floating in the corners of his winkies.

Of course afterwards, the horrible hollowness of appetite roared, a terrible noise that drove your own victual vagabond to distraction. So off I capered looking for something grand to fill the aching void.

Now Glendale is wild with grinds, Italian, Asian of all sorts, and of course Armenian places dot the suburbs like stars in the heavens. But nothing would do but the soul grinds of our own Eastside metro cousins, that’s right …DELI!

Fortunately, oh my brother and sisters, there is a temple to the cured, the smoked, and the pickled, not far from where your own Metrowalker chose to sweat out his blues

We are talking Billy’s Deli, the meeting place for those who need a knish, crave corned beef and must have matzo balls from before the Galleria was a twinkle in some developers eye.

Perching in a booth, your loyal narrator perused the menu, its plastic protected pages full of sandwiches, salads and selectable delectable from the cold larder, oh what to have? I caper and bound with the multitude of meals that are menufied.

Then a voice called out from deep inside, a sandwich of pastrami, and tongue on toast would just be the piece of the puzzle, with a side of those sour pickles and pickled tomatoes to cap off the taste. Of course I ordered some fries too, if you are going to toast in perdition, you should do it for something good no?

Mira that tower cousins, a veritable butcher shop between rye, and I your own hungry harlequin attacked it with gusto! The pastrami was tasty, as was the smooth fatty tongue, touched with a bit of spicy mustard and punctuated with a salty sour tomato, oh the bliss….

Billy’s is also the home of according to my departed brother Ian, to quite the chopped liver, and after trying it I have to say he was right. It is rich and sweet with caramelized onions, with just a hint of metallic tang of organ meat.

This viande is just the thing for your toasts or crackers, topped with some sharp pickles or even smooth chopped egg it is a grand experience. Now brother Ian said it was made with beef liver, when every other deli uses chicken, and that makes all the difference. Be it bovo, or yard bird, I must say that a tastier dish I could not have had.

But what is the true measure of a palace of pastrami cousins? Is it the status of their salami, the rank of their roast beef? No say I! As these grinds are sometimes not even made en casa. I propose that it is the soup that gauge the height of the castle's walls oh my brothers and sisters. Billy’s has all the usual suspects, chicken noodle, matzo ball, and of course chicken in a pot, enough to keep a cold ladened dancer happy for some time.

Your own feasting fool tried the matzo ball, and cousins it was not bad at all!. The broth was mild, speckled with chicken and carrots, with a dumpling dense and flavorful. Was it the soup of your own Metrowalker’s granny gran? No, but then again, your very own Uncle never knew his grandmom, and even if he did…well she would think a matzoball was something that you sprayed for.

Can I recommend Billy’s to you oh my cousins, well Bon V, Metrowalker’s meal munching amigo has a thumbs down on the joint, but I liked it friends, a great place to rest after making like the governor and defying common sense and gravity. I will be back to try Billy’s borscht, that beet bastion that has buffered Bolsheviks by the bowlful. Ian said it was the bomb.

Billy's Deli

216 N Orange St,

Glendale, CA 91203-2612

Sigh...ain't she dreeeeemy

Well of course she is illustrated cousin! But she is all about the loverly...lemme educate with the meager palabras I got on hand. This is my girl Colette Tatou, a chef de partie at the restaurant Gusteau from the new Pixar and mouse film RATATOUILLE!

A progression of CG of my girl Colette from that PIXAR Mousey flick RATATOUILLE!

Colette Tatou personifies an ideal, a dedicated cook who loves not only the job, but the grinds itself. When she talks about the bread in the movie, I felt my little red pump skip a beat, now this is my type of femme cousins.

Her efforts to make Alfredo Linguini (yeah that was his first name) a working part of the kitchen were heartwarming, as kitchen teams are closer than most families, even if they don't want to be. Colette Tatou is the ideal of a chef, as they are teachers, nurturing mothers, disciplinary fathers and of course inspired artists.

Oh sure, I know she would never be home, not available weekends or holidays and be perpetually pissed off...but... to have such love for the eats, to want to make something beautiful in this dark cold world even if its only for the span of a meal?

This is the person you want grilling your grinds cousins, someone who isn't in it for the fame or the cash, but for the love of it.

Dear Odin, now thats a woman!

The snack that went up the hill and came down a feast!

It was a balmy and breezy light spin when I, your own loyal Metrowalker and my very hungry companion Musomom went lookin for some grinds. Musomom wanted something light, what with her dinner date that dark spin, and I, wanted something that satisfied, seeing as I had elevated some iron and ped all over Hollywood before lunch.

So what to do? Burgle a burger? Snatch a salad? Perhaps procure a piece of pre-prepared pizza? No brothers and sisters, that would simply not do. There had to be something, and then a luz flashed in Metrowalker’s own giant head.

Korean! We were close, there was time, and it fit Musomom’s and my desires! What better lunch is there than a big ol bowl of bibimbap? What? Not know you of one of the worlds most amusingly named all in one meals?

Bibimbap is rice topped with an assortment of vegetables and meat, served with a spicy pepper paste called gochujang…It’s like a little mosh pit o comestables right on your table. I skulled this place in K-town where they do a righteous bibimbap, and so we packed up and headed there wiki wiki.

Jeon ju is a small place on Olympic just off of Vermont, and when I say small, I mean poco friends, leave those metrostalking SUVs at home cause parking will be a hassle during the dinner hora. Jeon Ju although small, is quite comfortable, and the folks who run it are copasetic. Musomom and I sat down to cups of cool barley tea and although it was a weak brew, it was a most thirst quenching bebida, a wonderful thing to have while we viddied the menu.

I of course went straight for the bibimbap, though to twist the dish I ordered the seafood version. Musomom wanted something a little less fun to say, she got the bulgolgi, which is to say gyu, marinated and then grilled. I rounded out our orders by snagging some mondoo..or boiled dumplings to share between the both of us. Light and tasty, so far lunch was five by five.

Musomom and I happily raised cups of barley tea to old friends who had fallen, and the ones who still ped with us. We spoke of the halcyon times of our youth, adventures that we would have just down the road, and generally caused much the bally rackum until the food came.

Oh friends and come it did, slowly at first with panchan, which are the small dishes that are the pride of many a Korean meal. Everything from a cool, tart, and acidic turnip soup, to crunchy chili soaked cabbage kimchee was placed before us. With a bowl of hot rice, a moke could make a meal out of just these, and we hadn’t even gotten our ordered dishes yet!

Panchan!!!

Cabbage kimchee, Green onion pancakes, Rice Cakes, Broccoli with chili ,and Turnip kimchee

Cold turnip soup, and salted soy beans....dig the thin metal hashi, cool huh?

Musomom was astounded by the amount of food we got, and to tell you honto so was I but I didn’t show it cause I am so cool. Our lunch was beginning to become a feast. Then our dishes came and we were overwhelmed…there was food all around us. The bulgolgi gyu wasn’t prime prime meat but it wasn’t sizzler either. The folks at Jeon Ju cooked this dish in a skillet, and then transferred it to a hot iron platter on a bed of onions. So we didn’t get the funk and crunch of the gyu being cooked over live coals, but was it good?

Cause something its all about the sizzle!

Yes brothers and sisters I tell you it was, we wrapped the hot meat in crunchy lettuce and smeared it with ultra salty soybean paste. We customized our lettuce wraps with chili, kimchee and little bits of panchan, so each bite was a new meal, my ami, I tell you righteous grindage.

Bibimbap, as fun to say as it is to eat!

The seafood bibimbap was a wonderful triumph of veggies, fish bits, clams, mussels and what else….oh yea, fake crab…remember what I said about the fake crabbage in my last missive to you oh my dearest friends? Well it’s still true. Still with a couple of dollops of fiery red chili paste it was like a Metallica mosh pit in a bowl…lotsa color, lotsa texture and a hella lot of heat.

An let us look at the bowl cousins, it’s made of stone, the folks at Juon Ju load that petros into a blistering hot oven so when the bibimbap comes to your table its jumping and popping like that famous cereal trio on meth. The rice on the bottom of the bowl kinda toasts, and this creates a crunchy crust that you mix in to add accents to the dish. This cousins, according to thems that are in the know, is where the ono hides, in the crunchy caramely goodness of toasted rice.

Mandoo!!!

Humble looking, but they tasted like they were made for royalty!

Even the humble boiled mandoo were good, mildly spiced chicken and spinach in a plain dough wrapper served with a citrus spiked soy and sesame dipping sauce. The boiling made the dumplings bland and a bit chewy on the outside, and brothy and flavorsome on the inside. Like a chewels liquid center gum…but made of meat.

So there we were cousins, eating like Aristos and loving it, we had more food than we could eat in a sitting, but by Odin and all the Valkyre we tried. What started out as a snack for two became a banquet for four, and at about $15 a person quite affordable.

Can I suggest Jeon Ju to you my cousins? Well if you go there, you are in the bright red pump of K-town, and there are hundreds of panchan parlours in the area, but for the rubber off my sneaks I wouldn’t say no to it. Their specialities run to the white hot stone bowls, but as you can viddy they ain’t no slouches at the rest of it either.

Jeon Ju

2716 W. Olympic blvd.

213 386-5678

By the sea, by the beautiful sea! A trip to the seven seas.

That light spin, the great fiery pain ball in the sky shown down so very kindly. The makani was cool, and perfumed with the exhaust of wild SUVs. So your humble narrator set feet to pavement to mira the world while the world was still kind.

What did I find you ask, you who are my grand ami? Why a seaside shack set right in the middle of this bad ol city. To speak truth, my hoaloha Ms. Bon V said this was the place to grind the best of the fish taco.

A very popular place for both Aristos and Bohos alike, this little shack promises a

Now I don’t know about you my dearest, but the last time your narrator had a marisco experience, he lay on the cold porcelaine of his bano sobbing to Odin and all the angels about food poisoning. Was this a dastardly trap set by Bon V, to send your own Metrowalker a praying whee whee whee on the cold tile?

Not at all, Bon V was righteous, take a look at that menu children, everything from tacos to burgers.

Your narrator got himself one of those famous pesci tacos, and a mixed seafood cocktail…If one is to swim..one needs to dive. Crispy battered pesci, crunchy white cabbage, a sweet mayo sauce, and a splash of fiery red salsa made this mighty interesting. With a squirt of lime, and a touch of jalapeno pickled carrots, this hecho en metro was shaping up to be a righteous grind.

Your chronicler could not tell what the pesci was before it was fried, Was it Pollack, Talapia, some sort of hijacked clone meat from the Gorton’s Fisherman? It was flakey, mild and oily, a description that has sometime been linked to your own humble bard.
Then a cocktail of clam pieces, octopus bits, shrimp, cubes of fake abalone, and of course…fake crab. Let’s stop for a moment my glorious ami, and thank the scientist that formulated that stringy abortion of food, surimi. His noble efforts have saved countless crabs their lives, and all of you the over use of the word delicious.

All this loverliness packed into a cup and bound together with a cool mixture of under ripe tomatoes, creamy avocado, mild onions ,and tomato water.

Your narrator tasted a hint of cilantro in this mixture, not enough to offend, but enough to at least know it was there. Once again a good squirt of lime, and a healthy plop plop plop of the fiery red stuff, known all the metro around as Tapatio, and I was ready to grind.

Ah ha, there’s that shrimp…knew it was in there somewhere…

Now I know what you are saying my dearest, where is the horseradish, where is the ketchup? Well my most astute brothers and sisters, Mexican seafood cocktails are usually free of both those players…opting to marinate the seafood in something a little lighter.

Now what to wash it down with? Beer? Tempting, but I had miles to ped before I slept. Wine? Noper, this is nay not a wine place my comrades…The thing to drink was…

Mexican coke, that’s right, all of the calories, and all of the SUGAR , say it with me my congregation SUUUUGAR. Cold and frosty, this was the perfect thing to wash down my own illuminated lunch.

Can I suggest this palace of pescadation to you brothers and sisters? Well it’s honto that it is a great place on a cool spring day, and the fish is fresh if not a little bland. The prices are fair, and there is ample parking for you who won’t join the dance. The fish tacos were good, but the best….I’ll get back to you on that bumbye. Still friends, all in all a grand place to chew some fishes and flat breads.

I am gonna try the ceviche tostada next time kindred…and of course I will let you know.

El Siete Mares

3131 W Sunset Blvd

Los Angeles, CA 90026

(323) 665-0865

A NOSTALGIC DANCE THROUGH GRITTY OL HOLLYWOOD

An so there we was, we being your own genteel chronicler, that is Metrowalker, and his most astute hoaloha, the Musomom, dancing through this town’s own gritty Hollywood.

Oh my illuminated ami, and what sights confronted our glassies, from Jason Voorhees running down the boulevard late for an audition, to a car with an entire garden growing on it…

We caught a superhero taking a quick spritz Oh Norrin Radd, art thou still longing for a real match against a true surfer?


The highlight of our Hollywood Promenade was a snack stop at
Walt’s very own soda shop!

That’s right my fellow dancers, a little of the millionare mouse’s own park sits smack dab in this bad ol metro, and I, as your most loyal narrator took it upon myself to mira this new ride.

The room is like home town never never…clean and cheerio….see?

Oh for the simpler times my ami, a soda and someone to share it with? Isn’t that the dream we viddy from all them old 2-d shows?

Well Musomom immediately wanted to chomp some ice cream, and who am I to stand in the way of the great cold creamy? What she ordered was the Black Pearl sundae, a dessert that not only let us indulge our love of that dish that once threatened to break up Sunday services in small towns everywhere, but let us be part of the mouse’s marketing plan for Johnny Depp’s nautical day out.

Is it not grand? A frozen confection that not only came with its own bowl to take a casa but chocolate barnacles as well!

Musomom said that it was wonderful, filled with crunchy waffle shards, too much chocolate and such a great amount of blue tinted whipped cream.

Your narrator sipped his chocolate coke and sent sugared palabras toward our own host, Carlee (with two ees). A nani chica who was friendly, and bubbly and who made our own “Mary Lou and Danny boy at the sock hop” experience a great deal of fun.

Can I suggest a visit to you my ami? Well, for ice cream it cost a double handful of the folding gelt, as do all the rides at the empire of the mouse and there are other places for the cold creamy within walking distance. Still it’s a shiny place to take thems that don’t live and breath in this metro, and who you don’t just want to drop off at the mousey’s own Orange County estate.

To my fallen friends and comrads...cheers!

So lets muster a thought for some friends who are not no more, smile and raise a cup cousins…Its up to us to remember what we can of those who went before.

To this mensch Ian Abramovitch, who was my friend.
Wish I did better by you man…you were a hustler, a teacher, and most of all a brother when I needed one.

What? Where have you been cousin, never heard of Ian? Or the musos he played with?…well then no lohi, lohi…you just go here, and fill your ear holes with all that solid sound…That’s music oh my sisters…that is what they did before that Rhianna chick took over the airwaves.

TO

the good ship Serenity
and

her checkered crew
You may be gone but not forgotten.

Again I am faced with blank glassies and slack jaws oh my brilliant brothers? Not know you of thems that fly for the simple life, one step ahead of thems that would try to take it away? Well then go you, get your dvd, and you verily viddy FIREFLY, afterwards you can come back and thank Uncle for righteously showing you the light yes?

Welly welly well...Look who's come a looking

Greetings my Brothers and Sisters!

It is I your humble narrator, walking this lost city of angels, and seeing it from a pedestrian's view, although not the most popular view in this bad ol city, I will endeavor to represent we of the dance...your very own lord of misrule!

I am coming to you, oh my brilliant kin to illuminate you of the many shiny things that abound just beyond your SUV doors. A whole world of splendor and spectacle, and I your chronicler, that is Metrowalker , will hopefully report them as I discover them.

In the coming tick tockeys I will post all my silly miras from all over this and any other metro I get sent to, and we will see what we will see.

But let us viddy one thing now and out, lest you bedevil your brainpans with no need, these, my palabras, well, they are mine solo.

My opinions end at my eyes, as do my politics if I have any. Wakarimas-ka?

That being pau, I look forward to hearing from you as well oh my kin, so the hall is rented, the band is warmed up…I believe this is my dance…