RIVERA DOWNTOWN - LATIN ELEGANCE

I have to admit that I never found Latin American cuisine, above all Mexican, especially enticing. Mainly because I feel that the dishes consist of too many overcooked ingredients and form some kind of mish-mash. But also because for me the seasoning often doesn't feel right, almost bland. Now, you will tell me about those nice and spicy chillies. Yes, they add spice, but a dish also needs to be balanced. So, where is the salt? I have never figured out why Mexican cuisine uses so little salt. With all this in mind, I drove to Rivera Restaurant - a modern Latin Restaurant - in Downtown L.A. And I must say, that I was pleasantly surprised. Chef John Rivera Sedlar has captured the essence of L.A. - Latin Culture meets Modernism. He understands that the city is at its best, when it stays true to itself, not pretending to be something it isn't, copying other cities and other cultures. The dining experience was lovely, because you could taste love and passion in the dishes. How poetic the flowers pressed into the tortillas, how thoughtful the words stenciled with spices, and how fun the small portions that give you room to taste many different dishes! Their execution, though, wasn't flawless. Interestingly, one of my soups and one sauce were overly salty. Just the opposite of my other Latin experiences. And the chocolate torte, I had for dessert felt mostly buttery, meaning fat, instead of giving away a rich chocolate flavor. While I wouldn't call the cooking 'brilliant', it is inventive and delicious.

CHILLED BUTTERMILK CUCUMBER SOUP

This is one of my favorite summer recipes. It's deliciously light and super refreshing:

3 cucumbers

2 cups of buttermilk

12 basil leaves

3 slices of smoked salmon

4 teaspoons pumpkin seed oil

 a dash of lemon juice

a pinch of sugar

salt, freshly ground pepper

Peel the cucumbers, cut lengthwise in half and take the seeds out. Cut them into small cubes. Let the cubes rest for about an hour, drain. Pour Buttermilk into a bowl, season with a pinch of sugar, salt, pepper to your liking  and add a dash of lemon juice. Add the drained cucumber cubes and blend in a mixer. Taste and adjust seasoning. Let it cool in the fridge. Tear some basil leaves into pieces and cut smoked salmon into slices. Pour the chilled cucumber soup into cooled bowls or soup plates, decorate with basil leaves, salmon and drizzle a little of the dark green and nutty pumpkin seek oil on top. Serves 4.

THE SUPER SALAD

Last time I was in New York I dined at the very lovely Restaurant Commerce in the West Village moaning with delight. I closed my eyes when my teeth crunched through what I call the perfect salad. It was a blend of the freshest, crispiest salad leaves you can imagine (the delicacies must have been handpicked only minutes before serving), and equally fresh, heavenly aromatic herbs, lightly, I repeat LIGHTLY, coated with a very simple vinaigrette. Ah! Unfortunately, the blissful state didn't last long. All of a sudden, I remembered, that I had to return to L.A., the land of super salads, he very next day. Let me explain. For some reason the only thing that seems to come to mind to salad makers in SoCal is "more is more". No need to tell you, that I do not think highly of that concept when it comes to food. But in salads it is truly disastrous. The super salad usually comes in an oversized, deep plate that some eager hands have loaded with a pre-packaged (pre-washed, pre-whatever) salad mix (those salad mixes ALWAYS have a couple of limp, slimy leaves hanging in there). Then they happily grasp a huge bottle of pre-prepared (here we go again!) dressing and pour like there is no tomorrow - with the ultimate goal to drown the very last salad leaf. Usually, the dressing has a fancy name like honey-mustard or dreamy-creamy. Then they generously toss things like maple-syrup-roasted pecans on top along with the ubiquitous dried cranberries. But no, they are not done yet! What about some crumbled feta cheese or sliced mozzarella? AND bacon strips? Maybe some diced citrus fruit? Yeah, why not! Sounds so sophisticated. Gimme a break! I have no idea what bit me yesterday when I met a friend at one of the premium super salad places in town, the Alcove in Los Feliz for lunch and ordered - a SALAD! I must have been out of my mind. The moment the waiter put the plate under my nose I moaned. This time in despair. It could be so easy, guys: take the freshest leaves, add a little vinegar, oil, salt and pepper, all perfectly balanced, and toss and toss.

FOLLOWING THE KOGI HYPE

I finally, FINALLY, made it to a Kogi BBQ truck, following the hype that precedes the Mexican meets Korean fusion food served at trucks rotating all over the L.A. area. Fans call it a revolution. Well, that's a big word. 

Turns out, that I have probably become too old for hypes. Don't get me wrong, I really liked the tacos and the kimchi quesadilla I ordered. The Korean touch made the usually quite heavy Mexican food pleasantly light - the cabbage, onions and pickled vegetables added a splash of tartness, freshness, crunchiness and the special salsas like the sesame-chili salsa rioja give a nice kick. And something I really liked: it wasn't too greasy. Just don't call it gourmet food.

I would certainly like to eat more of the Kogi dishes, BUT, the fact that I have to go to my local truck according to their set schedule (or make an extra trip to another location) and stand in line for half an hour or more, makes the whole experience a lot less appealing to me. In other words: is it really worth it?

AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION

After it wasn't clear to me whether the stalls at Gigi's Farmers Market in Glendale I visited last Saturday were really operated by local (meaning within a two hundred mile zone of L.A.) family farmers, I decided to get some facts from the girl sitting at the concierge table.

Me: "Excuse me, I was wondering if the stands here at Gigi's Farmers Market are operated by local family farmers?"

She, looking at me with a puzzled expression: "Well, the bakery just behind you, they bake their own ...."

Me: "I am talking about produce. Fruit, vegetables."

She with a blank stare: "What do you mean exactly?"

Me: "Are the stands at this farmers market operated by local family farmers?"

She: "The products are all California certified."

Me: "Okay..."

She: "All the products sold here are grown in California."

Me: "Okay..."

She: "I mean, they are not grown out of state or abroad."

Me: "But what about the farmers? Are those family farm operated stands? Or does Gigi's buy wholesale and sell it here at stands?"

She: "I do not understand what it is exactly, you want to know?"

Me: "You know, it is important to me to know if the produce sold here comes directly from the farmers..."

She (eagerly): "I can assure you, every single vegetable or fruit has been grown on a farm."

Me: "..."

DAIRY QUEEN

Holy moly - I am on a dairy free diet. Me. Above all. Do you have any idea how many years I have been bitching about all those nut cases, who are on some whatever diet? I am a firm believer of the no fuss approach when it comes to eating. My credo: eat everything, just be careful with processed foods, sugar, refined grains and abundant animal fats. That's all. I always felt so proud being that super sensible, down-to-earth person. And, of course, every time I was asked about any food intolerances - god forbid allergies -, I snobbishly replied "I eat everything! (what are you thinking?)" Enters my new health hero, Dr. I-can-cure-you-from-your-migraines. Ha! I didn't believe him, of course, but he did. And I loved him because apart from healing me, he never interfered with my eating habits. Until a couple of weeks ago. "You have a damp/heat condition", he declared. "I want you to stop eating dairy for at least three months." At this point he wasn't even blinking. I was about to laugh his prescription off, when I remembered that this genius got rid of those nasty migraines after all, and I had no choice but to trust him on hundred percent. I fake smiled "no problem!". On my way back home I stopped at the grocery store for some soy milk (the first in my life), since I absolutely need my early morning cappuccino. Can't live without it. It was disgusting, but I bravely drank it hoping the damp/heat condition would vanish quickly and effectively. Then I realized I couldn't eat my breakfast yogurt, I totally had forgotten that this was considered a dairy product. Hmm. Pancakes or the bread with a think layer of honeyed ricotta I like as a breakfast alternative, didn't go either. I settled for berries floating in soy milk. The day went on like that. No quiche, no cheese, no pudding, no creamed vegetables. Whatever came into my mind had some dairy in it. Arrrggh! Well, in the end it wasn't that bad. I now really like soy milk cappuccino, learned about coconut milk and silken tofu, and cheat a little. So I am good. Just too bad my friend from New York is staying at my house for over two months. When I happily proposed my dairy-free delicacies like pasta or homemade tarte, she declined. Her health guru had recommended her a gluten-free diet. Why on earth did I ever betray my principles and give up my wonderful so-not-complicated-and-no-fuss-diet? I am so doomed.