Off the Map: Oh No, Save Our Comrades

Garlic Noodles -- Crustacean, Beverly Hills, CA

Crustacean

"Do you need us to validate your parking?"  This appears to be the most common question posed in Los Angeles, which becomes all the more humiliating every time we are forced to answer, "No, we walked here."  While Crustacean is barely a quarter mile from our hotel, we soon discover getting there on our own is no easy feat, as we have to constantly hunt down a crosswalk as if we're on an archaeological dig.

The Land Where Every Car Wishes to Kill Us

"Walkin' in LA, walkin' in LA," Vodka repeats, pumping her arms like a shopping mall speed-walker as we cross our third multi-lane highway of the night.  Managing to make it to Crustacean unscathed, we position ourselves on two bar stools and prepare to order Duff Goldman's Best Thing I Ever Ate FILLED WITH ENVY dish, the garlic noodles, plus, of course, some all-important cocktails.

Our Favorite Travel Buddies

Discovering that we are still in the ideal happy hour window (thank you, LA, for agreeing with us that happy hour should essentially last all day), Ginger orders a gin concoction, and Vodka, a glass of cabernet.  From our perches at the corner of the bar, we gaze around the restaurant, noting the long trail of an oversized fish tank weaving underneath the floor, assorted giant fish swimming within it.

Nemo? Is That You?

"Well, that just seems awkward in a seafood restaurant," Vodka notes, though no one, including the fish, seem particularly offended by the project.  

Crustacean's Version of the Yellow Brick Road

As we sip (some would say "chug") our drinks, we realize one reason why, even if the food isn't something to write home about, we have generally enjoyed our experiences at LA restaurants: space.  With so much room to spread out, the establishments almost never have their patrons sitting on top of one another, and even the bar stools we're currently perched on are roomy and spread out.

And With No One Around Us to Watch, We Can Take Ridiculous Pictures and Not Be Judged

Luckily for us, it turns out that Crustacean actually is a place to write home about, as it only takes one bite of their famous garlic noodles to discover that we have, finally, found a true 5-star Best Thing I Ever Ate dish in LA.  

Only Took Us Seven Dishes, But Hey, Still Found One

Since the noodles are also on the happy hour menu, they arrive in a slightly smaller portion, and when a couple fall over the edge of the plate and tickle the bar, Vodka calls out, "Oh no, save our comrades!"  Indeed, losing a single bite of this dish would be a tragedy, as these are some of the most perfect noodles we have ever tasted.  

And That's Saying A Lot, Considering Pasta and Wine Are Pretty Much Our Main Food Groups

Please Note the Precariousness of the Dangling Noodle

Wrapped around our chopsticks in increasingly-large mounds, they are essentially lo mein-type noodles covered in an invisible sheen of Crustacean's secret garlic sauce.  Besides garlic, we're not exactly sure what we taste, but we do know it's pleasing enough to order a second plate.  

Barkeep, Bring Us Another Round

And despite our attempts to soak up our cocktails with double plates of noodles, by the time we're ready to leave Crustacean, we are growing increasingly close to being one too many sheets to the wind.  As Ginger attempts, for at least the seventh time today, to apply her new lipstick, and subsequently places it everywhere except on her actual lips, Vodka tells her, without any sense of irony, "I think your lipstick is too advanced for you," as if said lipstick was an AP Calculus course and not just a few too many shades of pink.

Ginger's Results Essentially Look Like She Put the Lipstick on During an Earthquake

"Just wait until La Scala gets a hold of us," Ginger says, regarding our next Best Thing I Ever Ate location.  And as we trudge out of the restaurant over the floor of trapped fish, how little we know just how prolific that statement would come to be....

Crustacean's Garlic Noodles: 5 stars*

*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate

Off the Map: There's Nothing Like a Bowl of Sea Urchin in the Evening

Warm Sea Urchin with Dungeness Crab -- Anchor and Hope, San Francisco, CA
Anchor and Hope

In a continuing theme of claiming that we have "wildly misjudged" our days, we arrive at Anchor and Hope a full hour before our actual reservation, bitter thoughts about collapsing souffles rumbling around in our heads.

Sorry, Anchor and Hope, but You Have Your Work Cut Out for You to Improve Our Moods

Once again, to the great credit of San Francisco restaurant staff, they seat us right away without the slightest hint of disdain, and we prepare to consume what may very well be the most radical dish of our trip: sea urchin.

Piranha Decor, Anyone?

To give you an idea, when Vodka's mother took a look at our San Francisco itinerary (and by "took a look," we mean "perused thoroughly with a fine tooth comb"), her commentary consisted of, "Why are you eating so many weird things?"

"What's so weird?"

"Sea urchin."

"Oh.  Well, it's supposed to be good."

Let It Never Be Said That We Didn't Try "Weird Things"

At Anchor and Hope, this sea urchin comes as an appetizer with dungeness crab.  Being that we've practically "starved" today, we also ask for two entrees off of the dinner menu: an order of fish and chips and a lobster roll (in truth, we spent all of 15 seconds looking at the menu before decreeing, "They have fish and chips and a lobster roll.  Done").

Also, In Case You Feared We Have Stopped Drinking for the Day, We Have Not

Indeed, this under-the-sea theme pervades the restaurant, as the entire interior looks like something out of a fishing village on the Maine coast.  In the words of Ginger, "It's a trendy little warehouse."

Don't Be Fooled -- This Is an Alley to Deliciousness

Under the Sea... Nobody Beat Us, Try Us and Eat Us!

Unlike Cafe Jacqueline, Anchor and Hope actually IS hopping on this Friday night, yet no one but us seems to be debating the continual disappointment of a strawberry souffle ("I just kept thinking that it would get better if I kept eating it."  "Things that are bad do not get better.  They get worse.  And we get fatter").

Even This Mayonnaise Is More Souffle-Like Than That Souffle

Luckily for Anchor and Hope, few, if any, things on their menu seem to fall under the "bad spectrum," as the complimentary homemade potato chips which arrive with our wine are downright delectable.  Crisp and uber-salty, they put Blue Smoke's chips to shame (especially considering they have not evolved into one solid greasy mass by the bottom of the container).

Vodka and Ginger Stamp of Approval

Our sea urchin arrives very quickly, and despite our willingness to eat this thing, no matter how it was presented, we are secretly pleased that it has not come in its spiky shell.

We Don't Like to Have to Work for Our Food

Instead, the bright yellow streams of urchin are presented in a chowder-like substance, along with potato, crab, and lobster meat.

Not Your Mother's Chowder

The sea urchin texture tastes like the "foie gras of the sea" -- gooey, warm, and salty, it is hard to separate its flavors from the surrounding chowder, which is buttery with a hint of lemon.

Beauty in Bowl Form

Overall, the entire dish completely warrants Aida Mollenkamp's Best Thing I Ever Ate FILLED WITH ENVY coronation, and it is only the warmth of the bowl itself that keeps us from licking the remainder of the substance into our mouths.

First Sea Urchin Experience Is Deemed a Raging Success

The fish and chips and lobster roll entrees are equally pleasing, though we both mildly prefer the former dish (presumably because it comes with tartar sauce).

Give Us a Plate with Condiments and We're Instantly More Interested

The flounder in the fish and chips is fully fried but in a light, non-greasy shell, and it is very similar to the beer-battered variety from Philadelphia's Dandelion.

We Should Have Been Born British

Flounder from The Little Mermaid Would NOT Approve

While the lobster roll is scrumptious overall, we give the fish and chips a one-up over it mostly because the brioche bun seems to overwhelm the lobster meat (and even more importantly, the mayonnaise) itself (additionally, the sandwich comes with the same chips which we received at the beginning of the meal, and while they are wonderful, we've already grown a bit tired of them).

Time to Change Up the Side Dishes, Anchor and Hope

Bready McBreaderson, Mayoress of BreadyTown

Anchor and Hope's food helps to explain why the place is bustling despite its location down a rather shady alley, and we are almost pleased that we missed out on all of our Napa Best Thing I Ever Ate dining opportunities so that we could fully appreciate a meal here.

Throw Us a Lifesaver, Cause These Pounds Are Creeping on Fast

After all, being the girls who go to a restaurant and order JUST the sea urchin is a bit too far on the side of "weirdo" for even us to be comfortable with.

Anchor and Hope's Warm Sea Urchin with Dungeness Crab: 5 stars*

*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate

Off the Map: No Free Chips and Salsa? What Kind of Chi-Chi's Is This?!

Carne Asada a la Oxaquena -- Frontera Grill, Chicago, IL
Frontera Grill

Chicago, we love you, but you're bringing us down.

Not Just Because Vodka Keeps Expecting Bernadette Peters to Pop Out of This Painting

Now, we are well aware that Chicago is teaming with food locales worthy of a destination food tour.  Unfortunately, the Food Network stars on Best Thing I Ever Ate don't seem to be aware of any of them.

There's a Whole World Out There, Food Network!

With no offense intended to Phoenix or Philadelphia, the fact that they are currently wiping the floor with Chicago in our rating system seems, in a word, ludicrous.  After all, how could we possibly find a place known for hot dogs and pizza so 1-3 star mediocre?

Well, perhaps because they keep sending us to eat raw garlic, pork rinds, and passive-aggressive dates.

JUST A THEORY

However, if there is one beacon of hope in our Chicago journey, one surefire 5 star restaurant on our mission, we are convinced that Frontera Grill is it.  First of all, Rick Bayless won Top Chef Masters, and you know how we feel about the validity of culinary television shows.  Second of all, Frontera Grill is at the top of the list of any Chicago friend's list of must-dine places.  And third of all, Vodka has been here before, and she fell head over heels in love.  So if any place is going to raise Chicago out of Best Thing I Ever Ate purgatory, it is Frontera Grill, right?

Don't fail us now, Frontera!

Chicago's Last Culinary Hope?

As it happens, we arrive at Frontera a bit disheveled, as we are twelve minutes late for our 9:00pm reservation, and they will only hold our table for fifteen minutes.  The reason we are twelve minutes late is twofold:

1. Avec took a full 90 minutes to serve us a single bowl of dates (shakes fist).
2. We erroneously lost track of time while stuck in the Twilight Zone that is the elevator line for the Hancock Building's Signature Lounge.

Nothing Like Going All the Way to the Signature Lounge ONLY to Go to the Bathroom

After falling over each other to get out of the taxi, we sprint to the hostess stand... and are handed an Olive Garden-style buzzer to alert us when our table is ready.  By this point, we are too utterly exhausted to fully appreciate the ridiculousness of this situation.

Or to Understand Why the Margaritas Are All Coming Out in Martini Glasses

Due to this same tiredness (along with a lingering hint of fullness), it also takes us midway through our meal to realize that Frontera Grill does not provide their patrons with chips and salsa upon being escorted to our table.  In our frugal, chip-loving world, this is a travesty -- after all, even the dumpy Mexican place in Hoboken gave us free chips, and we didn't even buy a meal there.  Instead of our desired appetizer, we are provided with a skimpy bowl of bar nuts, which Ginger consumes out of pure boredom.

Naturally, In Chicago's Continued Desire to Burn Our Faces Off, They Are Spicy

We each order a Topolo margarita, Ginger's with salt, and Vodka's without ("I can't believe you don't get salt on your margaritas.  You put salt on a KUGEL").  Served in a martini glass, they are tasty if sadly unremarkable (or perhaps years of Skinnygirl Margarita consumption have completely altered (read: damaged) our palates).

"What Is This? NATURAL Flavors? Ugh, Bring Back the Chemicals"

For "dinner," we are supposed to consume the carne asada a la oxaquena, as recommended by Alex Guarnaschelli on the FILLED WITH ENVY episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate.

Any Chance This Comes with a Side of Chips?

In truth, we are a bit hesitant about this choice, as we're typically more of, say, enchilada orderers at Mexican joints.  Therefore, we also ask for the mole poblano enchilada, which serves a dual purpose: it allows us to taste Rick Bayless's famous mole, and it provides us with an entree that is more up our alleys.

Only, As It Turns Out, Not Really

When our food is placed in front of us, we say a silent prayer that now, finally, Chicago will reach 5 star Best Thing I Ever Ate status.  We shove aside our skepticism at the honking platter of meat and miniature rolls of brown sauce-smothered chicken in front of us and try to be optimists.

And then our mouths start burning.  Again.  For at least the fifth time in Chicago.

Who knew that Chicago chefs were so intent on burning their customers' faces off?

Perhaps the Constant Red Color Palate Should Start Tipping Us Off

Beginning with Alex Guarnaschelli's choice, the plate features a red chile-marinated (hence the death-by-spice) Creekstone natural black angus rib steak, along with sides of black beans, sweet plantains with homemade crema, and guacamole.

Here's an Idea: Take Away the Steak and Give Us More Than Two Chips

The steak itself, which we have had prepared to medium temperature, is pleasing enough, if a tad on the fatty side.  It is actually difficult to discern the array of other flavors after the intensity of the chile hits our tongues, so we are rendered somewhat apathetic.

Would It Be Declasse to Ask for Some A-1?

Of the sides, the guacamole is our favorite, while the black beans are dripping with reminiscences of Rosa Mexicano.

The Only Kind of 'Mole' We Can Get Behind

No Comment on What This Looks Like (...)

Vodka, predictably, hates the plantains because, well, she hates plantains, and she is convinced that crema cheese always gives her indigestion (and since Ginger is slowly running out of her Pepto tablets, this could turn into a disaster quickly).

Are We Supposed to Be Making Tacos? This Pile of Tortillas Is Confusing Us

What Is Your Purpose?

Overall, the carne asada is good enough, though "We're just not jumping up and down about it" (but to be fair, when do we ever jump up and down?).

Not Exactly a Rave Review In Terms of the Clean-Plate Club

Moving on to the enchiladas, Vodka once again dismisses them on first impact due to the underhanded sweetness of the mole.

Flavors Vodka Hates for Dinner: Raisins, Chocolate, Banana; Flavors Chicago Serves for Dinner: Raisins, Chocolate, Banana

To her, the combination of the savory chicken with the chocolatey sauce is far from ideal (though this complaint is not Frontera Grill's fault -- it is, after all, the whole point of mole).  Ginger finds the combination less off-putting, but once again, she is not overly enthusiastic either.

Someone Send Us Back to Chi-Chi's Where We Belong

For dessert, Ginger orders the frothy hot chocolate (actually, she orders the "hot chocolate," because she refuses to use the word "frothy"), which tastes similar to those whipped up by Jacques Torres (in other words, it tastes like molten dark chocolate, which Vodka, once again, does not enjoy).

Moral of the Story: Vodka Hates Everything

At this point, we are growing frustrated with Chicago -- after all, if Frontera Grill can't reach 5 star-status, what restaurant possibly can?  We are not that picky -- we've given thirty-five Best Thing I Ever Ate dishes 5 stars, for goodness sake!  What could possibly be going so wrong in Chicago?

Besides, Of Course, That They Treat This Lake Like an Ocean

As we near the ends of our margaritas, we believe we have discovered a small part of our problem.  Despite the number of cocktails we have consumed thus far in Chicago, not once have we reached our perfect level of tipsiness.  While we like to keep our wits about us (at least as many wits as we have to begin with), our ideal is to reach the level of drunken merriment when the world seems kinder, the people more tolerable, and the food more delicious.

This Should be 50%-75% Alcohol Is All We're Saying

Therefore, perhaps we should not fault Chicago's dishes for their poor showing at all; instead, maybe the blame lies in their weak, miniature cocktails.

Frontera Grill's Carne Asada a la Oxaquena: 4 stars