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Oh hai!

Los Angeles has been undergoing a major fusion craze for a few months now, courtesy of Kogi's Taco Truck, which has made Asian tacos all the rage. I haven't actually partaken in Kogi-mania as the reported one hour lines (not to mention surly public relations staff) seem a bit much for a few meager tacos — especially when one can just as easily waltz into one of the many, many Korean eateries here in L.A.. Still, I respect the idea behind Kogi's taco truck, which is why last night, when I fired up some homemade Korean bbq of my own, I decided to change things up and go (drumroll please) FUSION!

Well, it's been nearly two weeks since I've purchased my basil plant, and I'm happy to announce that not only is it alive, but it's been put to good use. This is shocking because let's face it, I have a terrible track record with plants (see The Parsley Chronicles). Making matters worse is that my basil plant is currently housed in a remote corner of my balcony. Specifically, it's behind a satellite dish and out of everyday view, and as a result, I frequently forget to water the plant and have made on more than one occasion an emergency trip outdoors at 3 AM with a glass of water for my thirsty little herb pot. It can be very stressful.

Late last week, when I heard that Top Chef superstar Fabio Viviani would be in the neighborhood doing a cooking demonstration for something called Top Chef: The Tour, I knew I had to find a way to see it. The event was booked up, but thanks to the good people at Bravo, they found a way to get me on the list. And boy am I glad that I did. Not only was Fabio there, but so was Top Chef top chef Hosea Rosenberg. Plus, we audience members scored some free food (woot!) and some lovely shwag courtesy of Directv and Quaker Oats. Not a bad way to pass an hour in Los Angeles.

The other day, my friend Howie announced that the Artisan Cheese Gallery would be serving his self-created sandwich vision, simply titled "The Howie." I had no idea what the Artisan Cheese Gallery was, but after some thorough investigation (ie. reading more than the first line of his email), I discovered that it was a neat restaurant / gourmet shop in Studio City that's been throwing some sort of sandwich making contest on Twitter. Anyway, Howie submitted his concoction (hence "The Howie"), and on Saturday it was featured on the restaurant's menu to wide acclaim. I unfortunately was not able to partake in the festivities, which was most sad not because I wanted to support a friend, but because the sandwich looked really, really good. How good?

This past winter, I attempted to grow a lush bounty of parsley, only to have it all die off within three months, the victim of my poor farmer skillz (or perhaps Ikea's worthless seeds). We'll never know what exactly went wrong in that lil parsley cup, but I must admit — I was a little scarred by the experience. Could I ever go down such a road again? Invest three months time for something that will be a colossal FAIL?

The answer, of course, is yes.

This enrages me. The lovely Liz at Food, She Thought sent a simple email to the publicist for Kogi's Taco Truck (a Korean-BBQ-on-wheels thing here in Los Angeles), and the response was absolutely outrageous. Even if everything this PR person had said was true, there's no good reason for he or she to have actually said it. Memo to publicists: when you have to do damage control for your damage control peeps, that's a bad thing.

Check out the ridiculousness here.

I don't know how it was for the rest of the country, but the weather in LA this past weekend was fantastic, and what better way to enjoy the sunshine than by stepping out and taking a hike? Inspired by a recent post in LAist about hidden staircases in Hollywood, I recruited two fellow hoofers — Lisa Timmons (of Socialite Life) and Bets — to join me as we explored the nooks and crannies of Beachwood Canyon, an area populated by mansions and hidden paths. The journey covered 2.1 miles of territory and over eight hundred stairs total; so as you can imagine, we worked up quite the appetite (not to mention sweat).

Last weekend I returned from a rousing night out with my friends quite drunk and quite hungry, and in such situations, it's not uncommon for me to summon a sober party and request transport to the nearest late night eatery, particularly if it means venturing into Koreatown for some late night galbi, bulgogi, tofu, or pho. However, as I am trying to be thrifty of late, I decided I would make do with some drunken snacks of my own making. But what to have? My apartment has been a bit under-stocked recently, and the options for homemade viddles were few and far between. But then I got to thinking: I really wanted Korean food, and I had all these Korean ingredients in my fridge, and furthermore, I had just recently made this neat recipe for dinner that I could surely whip up again.

I found this video of a local Thai woman making Pad Thai to be oddly transfixing and somewhat informative too. Of course, it's also a bit unsettling as various health codes fall by the wayside, but hey, when in Bangkok...

Thanks to Tony at Sinosoul for the link.

With swine flu making travel to Mexico ¡muy off limits!, my friends and I thought we'd bring some South of the Border action to Hollywood last night by whipping up a minor Mexican feast at mi casa. It all started when my friend Bets revealed that she had a bunch of avocados that needed to be used. This naturally led to guacamole fantasies, and from there, an entire menu was devised. On tap for us: guacamole, grilled corn salad with queso fresco and lime, and something called chilaquiles, which I soon learned was like a big, flat, casserole version of an enchilada — or Mexican lasagna as I termed it in my head (probably incorrectly because I'm sure there's something out there called Mexican lasagna already).

Back in October of last year, I detailed a particularly enjoyable yet sweaty trip to Jitlada Thai Cuisine, a restaurant that is widely regarded as one of the best Thai eateries in Los Angeles. This is thanks in part to its unique Southern Thai menu whose famously delicious (and notoriously spicy) offerings have been well documented by Chowhound, Yelp, LA Weekly, and just about any enclave of the Internet prone to discussing such things. Needless to say, it's an experience.

It was 3:30 in the afternoon. I received a message from my friend Bets, who had sent me a recipe for Indian pulled pork sandwiches. "Dude, make this. the picture alone sells me on it," she wrote. I glanced at the recipe: slow cooked pork? Indian spices? An excuse to use my dutch oven? I was sold. I told Bets I'd gladly oblige her request, but when? "Tonight," she wrote back eagerly. That worked for me. I had nearly all the ingredients (save mustard seeds). I told her to come on over, and next thing I knew, I was throwing an informal dinner party. On the menu: Indian pulled pork sandwiches with homemade potato chips on the side.

Oh, do I have a treat for all of you today! Behold the beauty that is Daeji Bulgogi!

If I do say so myself, on Sunday night I made quite the hearty meal. The menu was rather simple: pork milanese with a steamed artichoke on the side. However, what made this meal particularly noteworthy was that it was the first time I'd ever cooked pork (bad Jew, apologies). Fear not, though. The experience was delightful. And let's not overlook those artichokes. My friend Bets bought me two beauties at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market, and these bad boys were just too amazing to be denied.