Los Angeles – The Saboscrivner

Pann’s (Los Angeles)

It has been a while since I visited the legendary diner Pann’s (https://www.panns.com/), a Los Angeles mainstay located at 6710 La Tijera Blvd in the Westchester neighborhood, not too far from Inglewood, Ladera Heights, and LAX. Pann’s is a beautiful example of Googie architecture, a “space-age” style that proliferated in L.A. in the mid-20th Century. The Pann’s restaurant building and its iconic neon sign were designed by architects Eldon Davis and Helen Liu Fong, and the restaurant opened in 1958. Think of The Jetsons, or diners and gas stations from the 1950s and early ’60s, and you’ll see it. A previous Saboscrivner review subject, Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank, is another Googie time capsule still going strong today. Here’s a good blog article about the history of both Pann’s and its Googie style, and another shorter piece from the Los Angeles Conservancy organization. One of my favorite culinary websites, Eater, listed Pann’s on its 38 Essential L.A. Restaurants, and Los Angeles Magazine wrote about Pann’s in its piece A Love Letter to L.A.’s Eternally Charming Diners and Coffee Shops.

Anyway, I went to Pann’s with my friend and former supervisor for a late lunch/early dinner before an All Elite Wrestling event at the Kia Center in L.A., so AEW fans can figure out how long ago this was. There are plenty of comfy padded booths and seats along the counter, and we grabbed two of those seats. As long as I’m not out dining with my wife, who has back problems (hence my quest for booths at most local restaurants), I usually enjoy sitting at a counter or bar to eat.

My friend is a fried chicken connoisseur, so he ordered this two-piece fried chicken dinner with mashed potatoes and gravy and collard greens. I didn’t try any of it (not my place to do so), but he seemed to love it.

As hard as I try to not drink my calories, I am a sucker for lemonade, and I couldn’t resist a “home made drink” called a watermelon cooler. It was so sweet and fruity and refreshing, kind of like a Mexican agua fresca or “melonade.” It totally hit the spot, and I appreciated the free refills.

There was so much I wanted to try on Pann’s menu! I love a good diner, and Orlando really isn’t a diner city. But I was full from another good restaurant meal earlier that day (which I still have yet to review), and I didn’t want to feel bloated and uncomfortable heading into a wrestling show that promised to be over four hours long. I didn’t even order Pann’s onion rings, and my longtime readers know I like to try onion rings anywhere and everywhere!

Instead, I played it safe and stuck to breakfast food. I got a hotcake plate with a stack of three pancakes, two eggs fried over-medium, and beef hot links (sausages). It was all so delicious. I rarely order breakfast food anywhere unless I’m at my beloved Waffle House, but this was a wise choice, even with the siren song of fried chicken or catfish or a patty melt. The pancakes were so fluffy; they might have been the best pancakes I’ve ever had. The beef hot links were great too. I figured it would have more flavor and be more interesting overall than the pork sausage patties that were also an option, and I’m sure I made the best possible choice. They were pleasantly spicy (not overly so), and had a nice coarsely ground texture.I am the biggest Twin Peaks fan I know, and I always think of breakfast-loving Special Agent Dale Cooper’s line, “Nothing beats the taste sensation when maple syrup collides with ham.” While a ham steak was yet another option I passed up on Pann’s menu, do you think I enjoyed the warm syrup coming into contact with the spicy beef sausage? You’d better believe it!

Pann’s is certainly not haute cuisine by any metric, but that has never been my thing. I loved it, and I was so glad we fit it into one of my L.A. work trips. I love a good diner, I’m a sucker for the Googie architecture style, and it was a perfect meal on our way to a memorable evening of choreographed violence. One thing I love about L.A. is how much history and character so many restaurants have (like Bob’s Big Boy, Langer’s Deli, Philippe the Original, The Prince, Genghis Cohen, HMS Bounty, and others I haven’t even reviewed yet), especially compared to living in Orlando, a much younger city. Pann’s is the perfect example of history and character, but it doesn’t coast on its reputation at all. The food they serve is a testament to why it has lasted so many decades.

HMS Bounty (Los Angeles)

HMS Bounty (http://www.thehmsbounty.com/) is a beloved dive bar in Los Angeles’ vibrant Koreatown. Named after a British ship where sailors staged an infamous mutiny (you may have seen the 1962 movie Mutiny on the Bounty with Marlon Brando), the bar is nautical-themed, but not in a cheesy way. Just don’t let “dive bar” dissuade you, because it’s a cool, dark room with a lot of character (dig those red leather booths, one of my favorite bits of recurring decor in L.A. dining and drinking establishments), history (it opened in 1962 — the year that movie came out! — on the ground floor of an apartment building dating back to 1924), and most importantly, super-solid food.

Before my L.A. work trips, I often consult websites like Eater for recommendations, and they listed HMS Bounty on their lists of The 38 Best Restaurants in Los Angeles (as of this writing, I’ve been to four), 20 Classic Los Angeles Restaurants Every Angeleno Must Try (five so far!), and The Best Dive Bars in Los Angeles. The restaurant was even a filming location in season 1, episode 11 of Mad Men (a fantastic show I loved), where Elisabeth Moss’ audience point-of-view character Peggy Olson went on a date to a seafood restaurant, “La Trombetta.” Season 1 was set in 1962, so the vibes were perfect, like everything else on that show. A different season 1 episode of Mad Men filmed at The Prince, another classic Koreatown restaurant with similar vibes and decor (and surprisingly good Korean food), so they were pros at capturing L.A.’s enduring old-school cool and making it stand in for early ’60s New York City.

After teaching an evening class on one of my L.A. visits, some students invited me out to dinner with them, and I was so honored, of course I agreed. We walked to HMS Bounty (which was their idea, not mine) and proceeded to share several plates while chatting and decompressing from the school day.

Fried calamari was on point, with a nice, light breading and a tender texture. No rubber bands of squid here! I think the sauce turned out to be cocktail sauce rather than marinara, which surprised me in the moment.

As my longtime readers know (the couple dozen of you), I will order onion rings anywhere and everywhere they are available. These were really good, with a completely different kind of batter than the calamari that was crispy, stayed on, and the rings weren’t too thick or too thin. It was a generous portion for $6. RING THE ALARM!

I was blown away by these thick, meaty, tender, well-seasoned hot wings, which were mildly hot, if anything. I’ve written before about my contempt for tiny, dry, crunchy sports bar-style wings, but these were the complete opposite. They were honestly in the Top Ten wings I’ve ever had anywhere.

I don’t think I ever got a piece of fish from this fish and chips platter, and I might have grabbed a single fry, just for the experience of it all. The menu said all entrees (including these fish and chips) were served with mashed potatoes and vegetables, but I honestly don’t remember if they arrived on a separate plate or not. If not, nobody noticed or complained.

But because I always study menus in advance, this is what I really wanted to try: sautéed sand dabs, a kind of fish that I’ve never seen on any menus in a lifetime in Florida, but I’ve already been to two restaurants in Los Angeles that serve them (both old-school places, if that makes a difference). I will review the other one at some point in the future, because I’d still love to return there.
How often do you get to taste a completely new, unfamiliar fish, especially by the time you hit your 40s? These sand dabs were mild and tender (definitely not a “fishy”-tasting fish), probably lightly dredged in seasoned flour. I was so happy to try an all-new, all-different fish! By the way, sand dabs are a flat-bodied fish related to the flounder.

The one thing we didn’t order that we probably should have was the “famous baseball steak,” which the Eater writeups had mentioned. But there was plenty of food to go around, and nobody left hungry or disappointed.

This group of brilliant, ambitious, warm, welcoming students that invited me out was all about sharing food (although I think I was the most interested in the onion rings and sand dabs) and spirited conversation. It was a delightful dinner with even better company, and I was so honored to be there for multiple reasons. I mean, most of my readers have been students at one point or another, but how often have you ever wanted to hang out with your teachers or professors socially? Has that ever happened?

I can’t imaging too many L.A. tourists making a special trip to HMS Bounty (but if you do, more power to ya!), but it is definitely a place that locals should pop into at least once. With all that history, timeless cool vibes, and much better food than one might expect, it would be worth checking it off your lists. And as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized I really like dark dining rooms, even if I sometimes need reading glasses to make out the menu. That lovely dinner felt like I was transported to a different time and place, if only temporarily, and that’s what a really nice restaurant experience should be able to do.

Howlin’ Ray’s (Los Angeles)

Howlin’ Ray’s (https://howlinrays.com/) is a beloved Los Angeles institution for Nashville-style hot chicken, which is one of my favorite styles of fried chicken. I got to try the iconic Hattie B’s Hot Chicken on my first and only trip to Nashville back in 2017, and I am a HUGE fan of Chicken Fire and JAM Hot Chicken, our two beloved Nashville hot joints back home in Orlando. I crave Chicken Fire a lot, but fried chicken and fries are the very definition of “sometimes foods,” so I rarely go.

I’ve been hearing raves about Howlin’ Ray’s ever since I started making these occasional work trips to L.A., and I swore I would try it on my most recent visit. From all accounts, it is one of those much-hyped places that actually lives up to all the hype. It started out as a food truck in 2015, founded by former fine dining chef Johnny Ray Zone (who sounds like a psychobilly musician or a cyberpunk protagonist) and his wife Amanda Chapman. A year later, they opened their first permanent location in Chinatown, which is the closest to my job, but not close enough to walk to. I figured it would be a good place to have delivered to work on my longest day, when I was staying late to teach part of a nighttime class. I don’t usually like getting food delivered, but it would be a lot more convenient than making it over to a place that doesn’t even have seating in my very limited time in the city.

I started out with a quarter chicken that was a leg and thigh, since I always prefer dark meat. I went with the hot flavor as a benchmark, to see how hot Howlin’ Ray’s hot actually is, and to also gauge how much I could take. It was delicious, tender, juicy chicken under that intense seasoning, fried to perfection. But holy moley, that seasoning! It definitely made my eyes water, nose run, lips tingle. It was hot, but tasty, and that’s the most important thing. I’m not a masochist — not totally, anyway — but as much as I love spicy food, I want flavor, not just pure pain. And this delivered plenty of delicious flavor!

At Hattie B’s, I ordered a medium thigh and a hot thigh to figure out a similar benchmark, and I have no regrets about either order. Like at Hattie B’s, Howlin’ Ray’s hid a slice of white bread underneath that quarter bird, and I was so glad to find it under there. Chewing it helped with the burning sensation.

I don’t go hotter than the hot level at any of these Nashville places, but I also wanted to scale back. And while they had chicken sandwiches that I’m sure are wonderful, I eat a lot of sandwiches, and I’ve even eaten sandwiches on this same L.A. trip. I wanted to try a few things from the menu, and Howlin’ Ray’s has a concoction called Mario Style that combined a few of them. This is a mountain of “shake fries” (crinkle-cut fries with spicy seasoning shaken over them), topped with chopped chicken breast at the flavor/heat level of your choice (I chose medium-plus, a half-step between medium and hot), vinegar slaw, pickles, creamy comeback sauce, and more of that shaken seasoning. I think there might have even been some cheddar cheese in there, but maybe not.
I figured I could eat this mess with a fork at my desk, but of course I dropped one piece of chicken that hit one of my favorite ties in three different places on its way down to also hit my crotch.

Here’s another pic showing you that there actually were fries underneath there. Mario Style was a huge portion of food, more than enough for a full meal. And assuming there was cheese in there, or if there was any dairy in the comeback sauce, then all four food groups are covered!

I can’t go to a restaurant that serves collard greens and not try them! These tender greens were braised with onions and also tomatoes, which is a new one for me. They were so good, I slurped the “pot likker” broth when I was done with the greens. And before I could check my teeth for rogue greens, two students chose that moment to come to my office to chat. (I checked after they left, and thankfully I didn’t have anything stuck in my teeth, but the timing really was impeccable.)

As I’ve said before, I also can’t go to a restaurant that serves macaroni salad or pasta salad and not try them! This cool and creamy macaroni salad included diced green bell peppers, piquillo peppers (an impressive touch), and a lot of fresh dill, which was interesting. I saved it for last to cool things down, even though it didn’t help with my burning lips.

This was all a huge treat. I loved it! The menu was very similar to Hattie B’s in Nashville, and I’d say Howlin’ Ray’s is on the same level, flavor-wise and overall quality-wise. I still have nothing but love in my heart for Orlando’s own Chicken Fire, and I appreciate a slight sweetness in the hot chicken from Chicken Fire, maybe due to a drizzle of honey. But my favorite thing about Howlin’ Ray’s compared to our beloved Orlando establishments is that they serve bone-in chicken, which Chicken Fire and JAM Hot Chicken do not do. That thigh and leg I had were straight fire — no pun intended — and totally worth the temporary pain. The chicken itself was fried to perfection, and people like my wife who don’t like spicy food would probably love their country style, which is even more mild than their mild. This is delicious food that I highly recommend to Angelenos and tourists alike, but I’m glad I ate it alone in my little office at my L.A. job site, so nobody else saw me tearing up and blowing my nose… except those two students who caught me mid-meal. They might have seen my tears of discomfort, but they were also tears of joy. I guess I am a little masochistic after all.

Baar Baar (Los Angeles)

Baar Baar (https://www.baarbaarla.com/) in downtown Los Angeles (the locals call it DTLA) is the most upscale Indian restaurant I’ve ever been to, with a gorgeous dining room and a large, eclectic menu of gourmet dishes that definitely seemed “elevated” above the standard Indian cuisine I’m used to. This memorable meal goes back to late summer, 2023, when I was invited on my very first trip to L.A., joining our dean, an associate dean, and my director, only about a month after starting my current job. I definitely felt like the odd man out, hanging with these big shots, but their warm welcomes and lack of pretension convinced me I belonged there. Our dean, a very classy lady who knows how to throw a dinner party, ordered several dishes, mostly small plates meant to be shared.

These puffs were dahi puri, topped with tamarind, mango, yogurt mousse, and raspberry chaat masala. These were very light and crispy (similar to pani puri I’ve had elsewhere), but the toppings added sweet flavor to go with the savory, lightly fried puffs.

These beauties were Kashmiri duck tacos, served birria-style, shredded with cheddar cheese, cilantro, and red onion — true fusion cuisine! Instead of Mexican tortillas, the crispy taco shells were more like roti or parathas. The four of us each got half a taco and savored every morsel.

These six gorgeous oysters came with guava and chili granita (almost like a sorbet), pickled cucumber, and shallots. I love oysters, and these were so fresh and refreshing. I would have been happy just having this platter to myself and nothing else, but of course we all shared these and everything else.

This fun and frizzy dish was sweet potato chat, an appetizer served with tangy-sweet tamarind chutney, sweet and sour yogurt (or “yoghurt,” according to the menu), and kale.

These were two lamb chop burrah kebabs (the second one is underneath, and you can see the bone), served with fresh mint, hemp seed chutney, and lachcha pyaz, a bright and pungent salad comprised of thin rings of red onion rings, ground spices, lemon, and fresh herbs. I love onions, but raw red onions are intense, and so is the onion breath they create. I was desperate to make a good impression on these three powerful, professional women, so I didn’t mess with the lachcha salad the way I normally would, dining on my own. The lamb was wonderful, and the fresh mint really worked well with it.

This dish doesn’t seem to be on the menu anymore, but it was tandoori butternut squash, served with asparagus, millet khichdi (instead of rice as the base of this dish, it was a combination of millet and yellow moong dal, or mung beans), and rice papad, which are like very thin, airy, crispy crackers or wafers.

While these look vaguely desserty, they were savory paneer pinwheels (notice how they look like three slices of something longer, rolled into a spiral), with makhani (a creamy, buttery, tomato-based sauce), topped with dollops of red pepper chutney, and pistachios. I loved them.

These were beef short ribs, always one of my favorite meats from any cuisine, served in Madras curry (a spicy British-Indian creation with a base of tomatoes and onions), with bone marrow Khurchan and baby vegetables. Between the tender short ribs and rich, unctuous bone marrow, which is like “meat butter,” I was in heaven with this decadent dish.

At Baar Baar, even a simple side of saffron rice was still cooked as perfectly as any rice could be.

And this was a side of pomegranate raita: cool, refreshing, creamy, tangy yogurt topped with pomegranate seeds.

This gorgeous dessert doesn’t seem to be on the Baar Baar menu anymore, but it was called mango ghewar, and it consisted of malai kulfi (Indian ice cream flavored with cardamom, saffron, and rose water), mascarpone cheese mousse, mango jelly, and crushed pistachios.

Needless to say, this was a sumptuous feast, even shared by four people. Like I said, our dean is a class act who knows how to party! Few things bring me as much joy as sharing a bunch of different dishes with people over good conversation, and that’s what our dinner at Baar Baar turned out to be. Not only was it the finest Indian meal of my life, but it was a reminder that all the decisions I had made in my life to get to this moment in time — this job, working remotely, getting to visit our gorgeous school in L.A. once in a while, collaborating with these amazing people, even being part of this grand gustatory gathering — turned out to be right. This dinner was almost two years ago, and ever since then, I have been grateful every day for the new direction my life has taken. I’ve also been falling more and more in love with Los Angeles and its culinary culture. Even though Orlando is my home, I’ve had so many great meals in L.A. (sometimes solo and sometimes with colleagues and friends, like this one), and I have so many more L.A. restaurant reviews yet to come!

Bob’s Big Boy (Los Angeles)

Bob’s Big Boy (https://bobs.net/) is a legendary diner in Burbank, California, a Los Angeles suburb near the Warner Brothers and Disney studios. First opened in 1949, Bob’s Big Boy is an iconic building designed by architect Wayne McAllister in the retro-futuristic “Googie” style that is virtually unknown here in Florida, but so popular in mid-20th Century L.A. diners, coffee shops, and gas stations. Think of The Jetsons, or anything referred to as “space-age” or “atomic age,” back when the future seemed bright and exciting, guided by trust in science and faith in exploration. I love that style for its timeless quality, while simultaneously being totally of its time (and of course before my time).

Bob’s Big Boy is named for its founder, Bob Wian, and for Richard Woodruff, a six-year-old boy who did odd jobs around the diner, who Bob called “Big Boy.” The familiar restaurant mascot was inspired by Woodruff — a friendly corporate logo based on a heartwarming tale of child labor.

Inside, it looks like a classic mid-century coffee shop with a long counter surrounding the open kitchen, plus plenty of cushy booths along the side and in the back. They have kept the restaurant looking clean and welcoming over the decades, which isn’t always the case at some of these old-school L.A. eateries.

The Burbank location was the first of what would become a nationwide chain, but now there are random, assorted Big Boy restaurants scattered around the country. My wife assures me there even used to be one in Orlando, but I was never aware of any in Miami, growing up down there in the ’80s.

But you can’t eat architecture or vibes, so what brought me way out of my way to this old-timey diner on my most recent work trip to L.A., a city renowned for excellent restaurants of all styles and price points? I was paying homage to one of my all-time favorite creative individuals, the late, great filmmaker/writer/actor/musician/visual artist David Lynch, who passed away on January 16, 2025, four days shy of his 79th birthday.

Lynch might be best known as the co-creator of the beloved television series Twin Peaks, which ran for two seasons from 1990 to 1991, got a bizarre movie prequel (Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me) in 1992, and then returned in 2017 for a magnificent third season in 2017, reintroducing the surviving cast members, all of whom had aged considerably in the intervening years, alongside the man who dreamed it all up. Twin Peaks, which combines a quirky small-town dramedy and a dark, twisty murder mystery is not for everyone, but it is near and dear to my heart. He also wrote and directed the films Eraserhead, The Elephant Man, Dune (the first one, natch), Blue Velvet, Wild at Heart (an underrated classic with one of the greatest Nicolas Cage performances), The Straight Story (a rare G-rated Lynch movie that you can watch with your entire family), Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive (another one of my all-time favorite movies), and Inland Empire.

For many years, Lynch was a regular at the Bob’s Big Boy in Burbank, and he did so much writing over black coffee, chocolate milkshakes, and plates of fries. The Bob’s Big Boy website even has a special Hall of Fame page for David Lynch, detailing his typical lunch order and explaining that as a creature of habit, he always liked to eat right at 2:30. It quotes his book Catching the Big Fish: “I used to go to Bob’s Big Boy restaurant just about every day from the mid-seventies until the early eighties. I’d have a milk shake and sit and think. There’s a safety in thinking in a diner. You can have your coffee or your milk shake, and you can go off into strange dark areas, and always come back to the safety of the diner.”

This was my first work trip to L.A. since Lynch had passed away, and I wanted to see where the magic had happened, to enjoy a meal in this humble diner he loved so much, that fueled his nonstop (and often nightmarish) creativity — maybe to feel a bit of the inspiration he felt. Bob’s Big Boy was my last stop before going to the airport and heading home, and thanks to some lucky timing, I was able to have my lunch at 2:30 as well.

Unfortunately, I didn’t order Lynch’s lunch. I am not a coffee drinker — it usually hits me hard, hours after drinking it, with a wave of intense acid reflux and the feeling of my heart wanting to jackhammer its way out of my body through my ribcage and fly around the room. It is not a pleasant feeling, and that was the last thing I needed before a red-eye flight home. Instead, I got a strawberry lemonade that was light and refreshing, with plenty of freshly sliced strawberries and that good kind of crushed ice.

A few things on the menu tempted me, but since this was my first visit to Bob’s Big Boy, and possibly my only visit ever, I went with a classic order: the “Original” Big Boy combo: their original Double-Deck hamburger with fries and a side salad. The salad came out first. My very kind server Rachael told me they are famous for their bleu cheese and ranch dressings, so I went with bleu cheese, a dressing I almost never get on a salad. The salad was fine (iceberg lettuce, cucumbers, finely shredded cheddar cheese, and really firm croutons), but the bleu cheese dressing elevated it to something better than the sum of its parts.

I knew what to expect from the Original Double-Deck burger, but I was still a little surprised when it came out. It had two burger patties with top, middle, and bottom sesame seed buns, cheese, lettuce, mayo and “special red relish.” If that sounds mostly familiar, it’s because most of us have eaten a McDonald’s Big Mac at some point in our lives, or at least seen one or heard about them. I did a bit of research, and it turns out the Big Mac was introduced by a McDonald’s franchisee in Pittsburgh in 1967 and became a nationwide product in 1968. The franchisee, Michael James “Jim” Delligatti, used to manage a Big Boy, and that three-bun wonder surely made an impression on him, enough to rip it off.

That said, the red relish was delightfully tangy and zippy — kind of similar to Wickles Spicy Red Sandwich Spread (which includes jalapeño peppers and cucumbers), but not as spicy. I probably would have preferred a chili cheeseburger (which old-school L.A. restaurants call a chili size), but I had to try the original, and it was what it was.

I know David Lynch appreciated his fries, especially at Bob’s Big Boy, but I can never settle for fries when onion rings are an option. RING THE ALARM! For a slight upcharge, I got onion rings in my combo, and they were okay. These are breaded, and I always prefer battered onion rings. But luckily for me and my readers (and unluckily for my body), I had better onion rings at two different restaurants on this same L.A. trip.

Rachael was sweet and kind enough to bring me little dipping cups of bleu cheese and ranch dressing to dip my onion rings, and the ranch was as good as the bleu cheese, if not better. I never get ranch as a salad dressing or a dip, but maybe I would if all ranch was this good! If you live out west, they actually sell Bob’s salad dressings at supermarkets, you lucky ducks.

Usually I like ketchup on burgers and onion rings, but I never even touched the ketchup at this meal, wanting to sample everything in its purest form.

Even though David Lynch favored chocolate milkshakes at Bob’s Big Boy, I know he was also very fond of pie. The Double R Diner on Twin Peaks was famous for its cherry pie (and its gorgeous waitresses, always beset by dangerous, desperate men), but I noticed that fresh strawberry pie is a seasonal special on the Bob’s menu, and that sounded too good to pass up. It was pretty much what you would expect a classic strawberry pie to be — not as good as Evette Rahman’s National Pie Championship-winning strawberry cheese pie at Sister Honey’s Bakery in Orlando, but nothing is. Still, it hit the spot, and it was a generous serving.

Yes, there is some pie crust under there!

I admit that I ate pretty quickly because I had to grab a Lyft and make it from Burbank to LAX against unknowable afternoon traffic, but I got to my gate two hours before boarding, so all was well. I had a good feeling I would be okay. While I have eaten better, more memorable meals in Los Angeles — even on this same trip, which I will write about eventually — I have no regrets about making a pilgrimage to Bob’s Big Boy, to enjoy a tiny taste of classic Americana and retrace the steps of a weirdly wholesome creative genius who brought so much entertainment to my life.

I should have researched which booth David Lynch liked to sit in, but ultimately, that doesn’t matter. The fact that he did so much writing at Bob’s Big Boy, leading to so many unforgettable movies and hours of television, was enough to get me in the door, and I’m so relieved I got that experience. Even though I know he was recently buried in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery with a simple, mysterious grave marker that reads “Night Blooming Jasmine,” I would not have been surprised to see the man himself in a nearby booth, his gray pompadour gone white, his dress shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck, scribbling notes on a napkin. I would have given him a thumbs-up like his Twin Peaks protagonist, Special Agent Dale Cooper, and he might have raised his cup of black coffee to me and said something charmingly cryptic to me in that great old-timey newsman-sounding voice of his, like “Keep your eye on the donut, not the hole.”

The Prince (Los Angeles)

The Prince (https://www.instagram.com/theprincela) is a classy, old-school Los Angeles Korean restaurant and lounge that is most famous for appearing in multiple movies and TV shows over the decades, including Chinatown (one of the greatest L.A. movies, neo-noirs, and movies in general of all time), Mad Men (one of my favorite shows of all time), and New Girl (where it was the characters’ regular hangout). I’ve never actually watched New Girl, but now I am imagining Zooey Deschanel with bangs and glasses, singing a silly old song (maybe “Dream a Little Dream of Me”?) and strumming a ukulele in this dusky, dark red hipster hangout.

Back in November, I was on a work trip to L.A. and had a chance to join some of my amazing co-workers for dinner. I always stay in Koreatown, where my employer is located, and where there seem to be hundreds of Korean restaurants to choose from, at all different styles and price points. I am still very new to Korean food, but the more things I try, the more I feel inspired to branch out and try more. The Prince was walkable from our campus, so since I was already aware of its cinematic résumé and timeless cool décor, I convinced this small group to trust and follow me.

I must apologize in advance for the photos that follow in this review. It’s a gorgeous room, dark and anachronistic, but as soon as I took my first photo to set the scene, a server yelled at me to not use flash photography inside. So I did my best, such as it is, to share the red vinyl booths, the dark wood, the dim lighting, and even these hale and hearty knights standing guard.

Also, I swear I saw Spike Jonze, director of super-creative movies and iconic music videos, dining there, but I wasn’t 100% sure it was him. As much as I wanted to thank him for “Sabotage,” Adaptation, and Jackass, I didn’t want to be That Guy who disturbed his dinner… especially if it wasn’t Spike.

Anyway, our group was a mix of adventurous and unadventurous eaters, so we picked five things that looked good to everyone, and we all shared them. That is my favorite way to dine with friends.

These are the onion rings (RING THE ALARM!) and cheese balls, because you know if I go anywhere and see onion rings on the menu, I have to order them. They were crowd-pleasers, and it was not the first time I had really good onion rings at a Korean restaurant. The cheese balls were even better — perfect, golden-fried, golf ball-sized orbs with melty cheese in the middle, under the breading. I should have tried to get a shot of a bisected cheese ball to show you their molten, sticky, creamy centers, but they went fast!

When you’re introducing Korean food to unfamiliar diners, beef bulgogi is one of those perfect gateway dishes. Bulgogi is a dish of thin-sliced beef (often sirloin steak), marinated in a savory-sweet sauce, and then grilled or stir-fried with onions and green bell peppers. The bulgogi marinade contains soy sauce, sugar, sesame oil, garlic, ginger, and pear juice, which tenderizes the meat. There is nothing spicy or “weird” to scare off the unadventurous diner, so it was another hit at our table. Just FYI: “bul” is Korean for fire, and “gogi” means meat.

We also ordered galbi (sometimes called kalbi), a very similar dish but with beef short ribs sliced cross-wise against the bones, rather than thin-sliced steak. It has a similar flavor due to the marinade, but I already love short ribs in any form — not just the flavor, but the wonderful texture. I especially like the chewy part of the meat right around the bones, which you can just pull off with your fingers if you don’t want to gnaw it off. This was served over onions and scallions, and there wasn’t a morsel left.

I didn’t have any input in choosing this garlic shrimp dish, served with fresh, raw, shredded cabbage, but I was happy to try a couple of the shrimp, which came in their shells and had to be peeled. It was delicious — different from scampi or any other garlic shrimp dish you might be envisioning, but still very satisfying.

I did choose this dish, though: thick, perfectly al dente udon noodles served with mixed seafood: shrimp, mussels, squid, and tiny crab legs (more trouble than they were worth to crack open). The menu describes it as coming in a spicy broth, but it could be served mild upon request. I honestly don’t remember what we decided as a group, but I think we went with spicy and almost everyone still loved it.

Real Korean food aficionados might be rolling their eyes, disappointed that we made relatively staid and familiar choices, but that’s often what happens in a “family-style” group dining situation. I would have loved to try the soondae, since I always love blood sausage in all its other forms, from Argentinian morcilla to British black pudding, but nobody else was on board with this one. It’s all good!

I have no regrets or complaints about The Prince, especially because it is such a part of Los Angeles and Hollywood history. I would not be surprised if there are better Korean restaurants in L.A.’s Koreatown, but the vibes at The Prince are unmatched. Every time I make it out there for work, I try to visit at least one historic, iconic L.A. landmark, whether it’s a tourist attraction, a restaurant, or both. So far, I’m making quite a list. I love my job, and I love L.A.!

Genghis Cohen (Los Angeles)

When I visited Los Angeles for work earlier this year, my supervisor and I went to the “New York-style” Chinese restaurant Genghis Cohen (https://www.genghiscohen.com/), which first opened in 1983. In addition to the truly great name, I chose the restaurant because it has special significance to me as a comedy nerd. There was an entire episode of Seinfeld where the characters were stuck at a Chinese restaurant, waiting for a table that never became available. That episode was instrumental in forming that sitcom’s (somewhat overused) description of “a show about nothing.” Co-creator, genius comedy writer, and awe-inspiring altacocker Larry David, the brains of the operation and the main reason anyone still fondly remembers Seinfeld today, was inspired by a similar experience at Genghis Cohen in L.A., so there you go.

We started out by sharing these excellent pan-fried pork pot stickers. There was nothing unique about them, but fried pot stickers are always a delicious appetizer, and you can never go wrong with them.

My supervisor chose the happy family, a dish I never would have considered ordering myself, although it really looked and smelled great. It included chicken, shrimp, barbecue pork, carrots, cabbage, onions, bean sprouts, and crunchy fried noodles, all stir-fried together. He really liked it.

And while I had other dishes in mind, I absolutely had to order the shalom pork, with sliced barbecue pork (think char siu), onions, cabbage, and green bell peppers, all stir-fried together with barbecue sauce (not the sweet and smoky American style barbecue sauce, of course). Not only was the Genghis Cohen name hilarious to me, but so was the shalom pork, so I couldn’t resist.

Since I am lucky enough to take work trips to L.A. twice a year, I plan my restaurant excursions as far in advance as possible, considering I never rent a car out there and usually don’t have much down time to play tourist. I don’t know if I’ll ever make it back to Genghis Cohen, but I’m really glad I went, and that my supervisor was willing to join me. There’s a helpful hint for aspiring restauranteurs: if you open a place with a funny, punny name, you will probably get at least one customer.

Philippe the Original (Los Angeles)

On my second trip to Los Angeles for work, I caught a Lyft ride at the airport and went straight to another famous, historic L.A. restaurant, luggage and all, before even checking in at my hotel or reporting to work. I had done my research like any good librarian, so I planned to go to Philippe the Original (https://www.philippes.com/), the inventors of the French dipped sandwich. Founded in 1908, Philippe the Original has probably changed very little over the decades. The prices have surely gone up in the past century and change, but not nearly as much as you would think.

You order and pay at the counter, and then the very patient servers assemble you a tray, cafeteria-style, while doubling as cashiers. I miss cafeteria-style restaurants. We went to a bunch when I was a kid, from Morrison’s in the mall to the old K-Mart cafeteria, but you don’t see this much anymore, aside from some casual Latin restaurants like Orlando’s Lechonera El Barrio. Philippe the Original also has a diner feel to it, since it also serves breakfast (and Los Angeles is a big diner city). But I was not here for breakfast, dear readers. Oh no, I was a man with a shopping list. With an agenda, even.

The main draw is the French-dipped sandwiches, which come on a delicious French roll. You can also get them on white, wheat, rye, or sourdough bread, but please don’t do this. You can get the sandwiches single-dipped, double-dipped, or “wet” in au jus, so I opted for a single dip as a first-timer, with an extra ramekin of jus on the side for this Jew. You can choose between sliced beef, pork, lamb, New York pastrami, ham, or turkey, and even though I’m sure you can’t go wrong with any of those, I had a hard time choosing. I asked, fully expecting to be told no, if I could get two kinds of meat on my sandwich, and the nice lady said of course! I couldn’t get half the roll with one and the other half with the other meat, but I could definitely get two different meats stacked upon each other. Now we were talking! I asked what she recommended, and she said of the six, she would narrow it down to beef, lamb, and pastrami. Now, I already had plans to meet friends at one of L.A.’s most iconic deli institutions, so I figured I would save the pastrami for that later meal. Beef and lamb for the win! I also added on bleu cheese, which pairs so well with red meat, but rarely makes an appearance in sandwiches and even less often as a thick slice. It got surprisingly melty on there, between the warm roll, hot meat, and hot jus. You can see the light brown lines in the cross-section of this roll above the cheese, and that is where they dipped the roll in the jus. This was a huge, thick, hearty sandwich. The beef and lamb were both very tender, but I preferred whichever one was sliced thinner (the beef, I think, which surprised me, since I always gravitate toward lamb when it is an option). That purpley-pink thing in the corner was a pickled egg, one of many accoutrements I ordered with my two-meat sandwich, fished out of a big jar on the counter. I couldn’t resist! It was so vinegary and tangy and good. I love pickled eggs, but never thought to employ beet juice when I make my own at home. Now I know… and knowing is half the battle!

Believe it or not, Los Angeles is a big chili city. Angelenos love putting chili on hot dogs and burgers and serving it in diners, so I figured the meat-centric Philippe the Original would serve a good cup of chili. They did. Like everything else, it was pretty classic — no frills, not fancy, just mildly spicy, and of course they knew better than to add beans. If you imagine a cup of chili from a diner, you’ve got it. It might not win any awards in the Terlingua Chili Cookoff, but this is quintessential L.A. chili. And to me, that makes it quintessential American chili.

Like any classic diner or cafeteria, Philippe the Original also had a refrigerated glass case full of tempting pies, cakes, baked apples (talk about old-school!), and prepared salads: cole slaw, macaroni and potato salad. As much as I would have loved to try all three of those, I was already going a little wild.

I chose the macaroni salad, which normally edges out potato salad for me, and I chose wisely. It was a simple, mayo-based macaroni salad with a slight crunch from celery (or green bell pepper?) and a tangy sweetness. It reminded me of a macaroni salad you would get at a mid-century lunch counter, maybe in a drugstore or even a department store. I miss those places too, and they were already 99% phased out by the time I was a kid in the ’80s.

Each table had a squeeze bottle of a relatively thin, horseradish-heavy hot mustard, that I applied to my wonderful beef, lamb, and bleu cheese sandwich after taking a few unadorned bites as a control. It was an excellent mustard that complemented the rich, salty, juicy sandwich perfectly. I noticed they sell it in bottles, but as much as I would have loved to bring one home, I do not check bags, and I knew TSA would confiscate it. Regular readers know my obsession with mustards and other condiments (such as my Cutting the Mustard reviews), but at least I got to try it in the restaurant.

Also, I got the most delightful little glass of lemonade for something like 95 cents. When I saw the price, I didn’t know how big the glass would be, but it was wee. I guess this is like portion sizes were like back in the day, before Big Gulps and whatnot. Really refreshing lemonade, though, especially after all that salty food and waking up at 4 AM for a flight.

I might have looked like a big weirdo, wheeling my roll-aboard bag through Philippe the Original, but I knew it would have to be my first stop in L.A. or I wouldn’t be able to make it back later. I’m so glad I did, because it was truly awesome. It lived up to all the hype I had read online, to say nothing of passing mentions and sightings in L.A.-based TV shows like Bosch. I love these historic restaurants that have been doing the same thing for decades, sometimes lasting a century or more, because they are that damn good. Los Angeles is full of them, and I look forward to exploring more on future work trips (and eventually getting around to reviewing everything from this last visit). If you appreciate a good French dip sandwich, try to make a pilgrimage to the creator some day. The originator, the O.G. — Philippe the Original.

Langer’s Delicatessen-Restaurant (Los Angeles)

Any of my friends, family, and long-time readers know I am a huge fan of delicatessens, whether they are Jewish or Italian. I am thrilled to say that I recently got to visit the city of Los Angeles for the first time, and on a short, three-day work trip, I still managed to fit in meals at two separate Jewish delis. I’ll write about the first one I visited a little later, since it was part of a magnificent food hall, but this review is about the second L.A. deli I went to, which happens to be second to none.

Founded in 1947, Langer’s Delicatessen-Restaurant (https://www.langersdeli.com/) is a timeless classic, probably the L.A. equivalent of the legendary Katz’s Delicatessen in New York’s Lower East Side. I have been to Katz’s a few times and reviewed it after my latest trip there, in 2019. The atmosphere at Katz’s is chaotic, like so much else in New York City, but the pastrami is so good, it is worth the high prices and less-than-relaxing meal. However, my admonition to anyone going to Katz’s is to request their pastrami sandwich on a club roll, since the rye bread sucks. It is essentially an edible napkin, although it doesn’t work much better as a napkin than it does as bread.

I have no such grave advice to offer about Langer’s Deli on the left coast, aside from just making sure you go to Langer’s. I would rank the pastrami on par with Katz’s — equal, if not better, but that makes it god-tier pastrami that is better than just about anyone else’s from anywhere. We all got a kick out of the description of the pastrami from Langer’s menu, especially the last part: “Hot pastrami is a select cut of beef, sugar-cured and seasoned as corned beef, then slowly smoked for tenderness and tantalizing taste and flavor, then covered with choice and costly spices.”

I am also thrilled to report that the rye bread at Langer’s is terrific, and it is also a lot more of a chill vibe there, without the bedlam of the Katz’s experience. I went with two of my new co-workers who are both based in L.A., but none of us had been there before. Located on the corner of 7th and Alvarado that has seen better days (man, that sounded like a bit of inter-song banter on a ’70s Tom Waits record), Langer’s is near another Los Angeles landmark, MacArthur Park, a once-beautiful park where someone once left a cake out in the rain, but it is kind of sketchy and foreboding today.

Anyway, we all had a very pleasant lunch, and being smart people (librarians all), we stuck to the house specialty, that perfect pastrami. My new supervisor ordered the French dipped pastrami sandwich, which came on a roll with au jus on the side. Apparently, L.A. is the place to be if you’re a French dip fan, with the famous Philippe the Original as another destination for sandwich aficionados that I hope to visit in the future.
He seemed to love his sandwich, even if he expressed a bit of cognitive dissonance over our other colleague’s choice.

She ordered the iconic #19, Langer’s most popular sandwich, with pastrami, Swiss cheese, creamy cole slaw, and Russian dressing on rye bread, which was a very smart choice. I could not get over how soft the rye bread was, yet it had a crispy, crackly crust that you never get with supermarket rye.

As for me, I could not decide between two sandwiches on Langer’s menu, so in true Saboscrivner style, I ordered both of them, to eat a half of each at the restaurant and enjoy the other halves later. This was my #6, with hot pastrami, chopped liver, and Russian dressing on that same perfect rye bread. You can see that the pastrami is hand-carved into thick slices, and it was so juicy and moist and tender and rich and fatty, I cannot rave enough about it. The chopped liver was savory and creamy and perfect, and a squirt of mustard brought some acidic brightness to this sensational sandwich.

My other choice was the #44, with hot pastrami (of course), sauerkraut, and Nippy cheese, served on grilled rye. It was essentially a pastrami Reuben, except the Swiss was replaced with Nippy cheese. What the heck is Nippy cheese? I loved the sandwich, and yet I’m still not entirely sure. I was too distracted to ask our patient server, but my research shows that Kraft used to sell a processed cheese spread called Nippy cheese (before my time), but the stuff at Langer’s is more like a tangy American cheese that had melted into the grilled rye. It was such a rich and salty sandwich, almost any cheese would have gotten a bit lost in the shuffle, but I like American cheese more than most, and I have zero regrets about my choice. It was the best Reuben I’ve ever had, especially because I prefer pastrami to the standard Reuben filling of corned beef, and because almost any cheese has more character than Swiss (fit for Reubens, Cubans, and that’s about it). The pickles were pretty classic deli-style kosher dills, by the way.

Even though I order macaroni salad almost anywhere that offers it to compare and contrast, I can say that the macaroni salad at Langer’s was nothing special, and I think my co-workers agreed. The mayonnaise-based dressing was a bit thin and runny, and I think there was yellow mustard in there too. I had been curious about it, and I’m not sorry I ordered it, but I would not get it again. If I ever make it back to Langer’s, I think I will try their chili next time, perhaps in the form of chili cheese fries.

As a mustard aficionado (see my past Cutting the Mustard features for more mustard reviews than you ever dreamt of), I was a little surprised to see Langer’s uses good ol’ Gulden’s Spicy Brown, but that’s the mustard my dad always bought, and it’s a classic for good reason.
My colleagues were good and drank water, but I had heard Langer’s has its own cream soda available as a fountain drink, so I couldn’t resist. It was much better than that deli staple Dr. Brown’s — sweeter, more vanilla-ey, and more refreshing. It was a hot August day in L.A., and I definitely took advantage of the free refills.

I had such an amazing time on this trip to L.A., especially getting to meet my co-workers in real life and visit the beautiful school I work for remotely. Aside from the professional stuff, this magnificent meal at Langer’s Delicatessen-Restaurant was a highlight of this too-short visit (the first of hopefully many). Not only did the pastrami live up to its legendary status, but I had wanted to eat here for many years — ever since I read journalist David Sax’s 2009 book Save the Deli. I had planned to go there alone as my first act in Los Angeles, on the way from the airport to work, before even checking into my hotel. However, sharing that experience on my second day in the city with two new co-workers, getting to know them better over sandwiches, and considering them friends from here on out, made my Langer’s lunch that much more profound and unforgettable. (And unlike Katz’s, it was a relaxing lunch on top of everything else good about it!)