Off the Map: Remember When I Wasn't Going to Eat the Popcorn?

Caramel Corn -- ArcLight Cinemas, Los Angeles, CA

ArcLight Cinemas

In our continuing discrimination suit against Los Angeles, once again, we are being thwarted for not being in the population of people who drive.  Via double-decker bus, we have made our way back to Hollywood, this time to try to procure some of Candace Nelson's Best Thing I Ever Ate caramel corn from ArcLight Cinemas.  

Frankly, We're More in the Mood for McDonald's, But Fine

"Try to" is the operative term here, since we are seemingly incapable of finding the entrance to the place.  With no front door in our line of vision, we decide to parade around to the back of the building, assured that we'd find the mysterious place to enter there.  

Please, LA, There Has GOT to be an Easier Way

Instead, we are soon making our way -- by foot, mind you -- through a public parking lot, up two flights of stairs, and finally through an unmarked door that leads us to the ArcLight Cinemas enclosed terrace.

Dear ArcLight, Might Your Be Able to Invest in a FRONT DOOR Sign?

It is midway through this trek that Vodka suggests Ginger place one of her infamous phone calls and ask ArcLight how we are supposed to enter their vicinity.  Needless to say, by the time we manage to wander through the doors, we are feeling a lot less sheepish about descending into a movie theatre merely to procure a snack without actually, you know, seeing a movie.

Just Hand Over the Caramel Corn and We'll Get Out of Your Hair

We approach the ticket taker, and Ginger explains that we just want to buy a tub of caramel corn, and that he can "watch us" to make sure we don't secretly enter a theatre.  He greets our request with confusion, if not blatant hostility, and deigns to allow us to pass.  One would think we would now be in the clear, but as luck would have it, the never-fail California joviality strikes again when the popcorn vendor decides to ask us what movie we're seeing, causing us to have to admit that... we're not.

Worry About Yourself, Hollywood

In truth, Ginger has no idea what said popcorn vendor is asking her, as her gin and tonic hangover has rendered her somewhat incapable of understanding English ("What language was he speaking?" "He was Australian.")  After successfully getting a hold of the desired popcorn, and with a quick wave to the ticket taker, we park ourselves at ArcLight's cafe to taste-test the stuff.  

Yep. Looks Like Popcorn

Now first of all, call us crazy, but a snack that is meant to be eaten in a movie theatre is an odd choice for the CRUNCHY episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate.  Does Candace Nelson not become enraged, as we do, at the sounds of other people chewing?  But despite its episode description, upon inspection, we don't find the popcorn any more crunchy than other varieties.  Buttery and sweet in its caramel coating, the popcorn is good... but it also kind of just tastes like caramel corn.  Caramel corn you can get anywhere, rather than the kind you have to haul your way through two floors of a parking garage in order to find.  Perhaps it's the novelty that ArcLight serves caramel corn in the first place that caused Candace to single it out, but personally, we're failing to see just what is so special about it.

Perhaps We Should Have Squirted Some Processed Butter Over the Top

Vodka, who is decidedly on the savory side of popcorn preferences, picks up her fifth kernel and brings it to her mouth before declaring, "Ugh, I can't eat anymore of this" and placing the single piece back in the bucket.  Ginger deposits the rest of the of the container (which is still at least 90% full) in her handbag, vowing to not eat anymore popcorn, as she's not sure what it will do to her digestive track. 

Cut to That Evening, When There Are Six Kernals Left in the Bucket

"Remember when I wasn't going to eat the popcorn?" she asks Vodka.  So perhaps, what Ginger has really found is a new marketing strategy for ArcLight Cinemas and their caramel popcorn: the ultimate hangover cure.

ArcLight Cinemas's Caramel Corn: 3 stars

Off the Map: It's 9:00 AM -- Do You Know Where Your Cupcakes Are?

Chocolate Coconut Cupcake -- Joan's on Third, Los Angeles, CA

Joan's on Third

Just when we think nothing can get more ridiculous than sharing a chopped salad with Regis, we manage to one-up ourselves.  After successfully walking back to our Beverly Hills hotel (no easy feat), Vodka immediately takes umbrage with the fact that it is at least 90-degrees in our room, despite the fact that she had set the thermostat at 66-degrees before leaving.  Looking toward Ginger for backup, she finds her fully collapsed in her bed, a victim of that one extra gin and tonic.  Naturally, Vodka begins harassing the hotel staff about this issue, resulting in an engineer, a housekeeper, a manager, and a bellman all circling through the room over the next hour, up to and including a vent being removed, a man crawling through our ceiling, and a change of sheets flying around Ginger's face.

The most alarming part of this entire circumstance?  Ginger sleeps through the entire thing.  In case you ever question the power of gin.  

Any Chance You People May Also Have a Defibrillator?

When the offending heating system manages to cover Vodka's bed with a coat of "asbestos" (some would say "dust"), the manager agrees to switch us to a new room, despite the fact that, with a glance in the direction of Ginger's bed, she notes, "You look pretty settled in here."  Vodka promises to rouse Sleeping Drunky, and the second the manager has gone, she shoves Ginger's sleeping form and yells, "Get up, we're moving."

"Where are we going?" Ginger stammers, completely unaware of all of the nonsense that has just gone on right under her nose.

Instead of While You Were Sleeping, It's More Like a Scene from While You Were Passed Out from Gin

Once Ginger is somewhat upright, we are escorted across the hotel, through the lobby, and to another elevator bank, up into our upgraded room.

In which, Ginger promptly falls asleep.  

Ginger, the Following Morning: "We Have a Balcony?!"

The next day, our movie theme switches from While You Were Sleeping to The Hangover, as Vodka rehashes the entire timeline that resulted in us ending up in this mysterious new room, as if Ginger were not there at all.  When we manage to pull ourselves together enough to Uber across town to Joan's on Third, home of Alex Guarnaschelli's Best Thing I Ever Ate WITH MY HANDS food, the chocolate coconut cupcake, we can't decide if we are in no mood for nonsense, or if we are only in the mood for nonsense.

What We Are Definitely In the Mood for Is Water

We do know that when we approach the bakery counter, with nary a cupcake to be found, and inquire about them, we are none too pleased to find out that they won't be escorted out of the kitchen until 9:00 AM -- almost a full hour from now.  

Ain't Nobody Got Time for a Cupcake Delay

Luckily for Joan's, we are going to be needing something more substantial anyway in order to combat our current state, or else they'd be receiving worse dirty looks than some Beverly Hills hotel managers.  After much confusion and stumbling around the premises, Ginger orders the scrambled eggs, and Vodka, a soft-boiled egg with toast.  We sit at the end of one of Joan's communal tables (Vodka has subconsciously chosen a place in the freezer section, presumably still warm from our boiling room last night) and await some sustenance.  

Keeping Us On Ice

When our food arrives, Vodka stares at the egg in a cup before her as if she's never seen an egg before.

Could Someone Please Feed This to Her?

"How do I eat that?" she asks Ginger.

"Try tapping it with that little spoon," she suggests.  When that fails to result in any cracks in the shell, she continues, "Why don't you Google it?"

Next We Will Be Googling "How to Consume Toast"

Googling "how to eat a soft-boiled egg" soon results in us stumbling upon some of our other Google searches from the night before, up to and including "Cleveland" and "350-pound woman."  

Also, By Some Miracle, Vodka Finally Managed to Broach the Egg Shell. Thanks, Google

Our current conversation isn't making much more sense, as Vodka inexplicably keeps referring to "Joan" (of "on Third" fame), and when Ginger asks which one she is, Vodka is forced to reveal, "I don't know if that's Joan.  She's just a woman who works here."

It's Like Our Personal Version of See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, Only Swap "Evil" with "Sense"

Once we figure out how to consume them, we find Joan's eggs good enough, if not entirely memorable.  The entire store looks exactly how we picture Ina Garten's Barefoot Contessa establishment (may it rest in peace), and within a half hour of its 8:00 AM opening time, it is fairly packed.

And yet, there are still no cupcakes to be found.

Somebody Please Serve Us a Bloody Cupcake Already

Finally, at the strike of 9:00, we see trays of cupcakes being escorted from the kitchen, and Ginger is sent to procure one.  It bears repeating that, despite what we're about to consume, neither of us particularly like the taste or texture of coconut, which means we're real martyrs for blindly following Alex's tastes.

You're Welcome, America

The cupcake itself is pretty in form, resembling a Magnolia concoction in both size and frosting proportion.  A mound of buttercream icing, coconut sprinkled on top, rests on a dark chocolate cake.  

In Other Words, It's a Cupcake

Our first bites reveal that it is quite good... should one actually like coconut.  But then again, it is also just a cupcake.  It doesn't necessarily taste any better or worse than other varieties we have tried, and in fact, many other items at Joan's bakery counter look more interesting and appealing than these cupcakes.

Cut to Us Slowly Picking Off the Coconut, Bit by Bit, Piece by Piece

While we enjoy this place for what it is, nothing about it strikes us as especially eventful or impressive.  But then again, Regis didn't show up, so perhaps from the beginning, Joan's on Third was fighting a losing battle.

Joan's on Third's Chocolate Coconut Cupcake: 3 stars

Off the Map: REGIS IS HERE!

Original Chopped Salad -- La Scala, Beverly Hills, CA

La Scala

To understand what happened to us at La Scala, you have to know  something about Vodka and celebrities.  Namely, that there are only a handful that she truly cares about, and would ever dare approach.

One such celebrity just happens to be Regis Philbin.  

Let's Just Say That She Generally Has the Celebrity Tastes of a Golden Girl

A dozen or so years ago, Vodka was a frequenter of Live with Regis and Kelly tapings, along with an occasional audience member at Regis's touring concert production.  While she had met Regis multiple times during that period, she hasn't seen him in years, though he still holds a very nostalgic place in her heart.

What? Like You've Never Been to a Regis Philbin Concert?

And so, when we arrive naively and a bit woozily at La Scala, we are already on the bemused side, due to Ginger's insistence at Crustacean that she call La Scala and ask if we could sit at the bar and "eat some food" (exact quote).  For some reason, Ginger had been extremely concerned that we were not going to be able to consume Gail Simmons's Best Thing I Ever Ate original chopped salad from the OLD SCHOOL episode of the show, and that La Scala was instead going to insist that we sit at a table.  In her gin stupor, she decided to clarify this point by phone, which in retrospect, now seemed like a ridiculous question.  ("I can't wait until we get there and say, 'We were the ones who would like to sit at the bar and eat some food.'").  In what has become a running theme with us and Los Angeles, rather than looking at us with derision, the hostess says that she would be happy to give a couple at the bar our reserved table and sit us there instead, and could we just give her a minute to do so?  Sure we can.

What Is With Everyone Being So Nice to Us? Even We Find Ourselves Annoying

This circumstance is how we end up on the sidewalk outside of La Scala, swaying back and forth in a merry haze.  And how Ginger says -- it turns out sarcastically -- to Vodka, "Oh look, it's Regis," not knowing that the man approaching La Scala's doors was not merely a Regis lookalike, but actually REGIS HIMSELF.

In this moment, in what Vodka would later swear was a whisper but was actually more of a screech, she calls out, "REGIS!"  In proof that Vodka shouted this a bit more loudly than she meant to, Regis and his accompanying wife, Joy, both turn around and smile before entering the restaurant.

And now, Vodka is out of control.  

It's Like a Scene Out of The Real Former Talk Show Hosts of Beverly Hills

By the time the hostess comes to fetch us so we can enter the premises, Vodka is in the process of texting everyone she knows three words: REGIS IS HERE.

Once we take our places at the bar, and dutifully order another cabernet and gin and tonic, respectively, Vodka has a decision to make.  While she doesn't want to bother Regis, she also doesn't want to let this moment go by ignored.  Which is how she comes to decide that she is going to write Regis a note.

Here's a Hint: Effectively Writing a Letter to Your Favorite Celebrity After Countless Glasses of Wine Is Harder Than It Looks

Acquiring a pad of paper from the bartender, Vodka begins scrawling various versions of her sentiments, usually tearing the paper off of the pad and beginning again within a few words.  Thankfully, Ginger has the foresight to collect all of these drafts, lest Vodka's ramblings end up in the wrong hands, and it takes seven full drafts until she has come up with something that both she and Ginger approve of.  Vodka rises from the bar stool to bring the note to the hostess, as her plan is to ask her to deliver it to Regis at her convenience.  However, at this time, a few fatalistic things happen:

a) With the hostess stand suddenly quite busy, Vodka loses patience and chooses to deposit the note on Regis's table herself, placing it under his wrist as he consumes, ironically, the original chopped salad (she would later recount this dropoff with the phrase "I slipped him a note," which for some reason made us guffaw), and

b) Despite Vodka's relatively short absence (considering she literally ran from Regis's table back to the bar in the hopes of not further embarrassing herself), Ginger has managed to procure herself another drink.

Alcohol, Alcohol Everywhere, and Not a Bite to Eat

While this will later prove to be a poor move on her part, in the moment, it is exactly what she needs in order to bring herself to the same level as Vodka's Regis-induced revelry.  This festive atmosphere is only heightened when a La Scala waiter appears in front of us and asks, "Is one of you Vodka?"  (Real name removed to protect the not-so-innocent).  With that, he hands Vodka a note from Regis himself, which manages to make her both giddy and verklempt.  

This Is Also When All Photos, Much Like the World Before Us, Begin Getting Blurry

It is in this moment that the infamous chopped salad appears before us, which at this point is a bit of an afterthought.  

Perhaps We Could Have Just Asked Regis for a Bite of His Salad and Saved a Couple of Bucks

While we lap it up willingly (despite Ginger's recent fear of all things green and fibrous), we can't recall much about it without consulting the La Scala menu (it seems it consists of lettuce, salami, mozzarella cheese, garbanzo beans, and "Leon dressing," whatever that is).  

The Irony of Us Writing a Food Blog But Never Actually Knowing What We're Eating Is Not Lost on Us

By this point in the evening, Vodka is drunk with happiness over her note from Regis, and Ginger is just drunk.  So while we know we enjoyed the salad, and would almost certainly order it again, if forced to pick it out in a blind taste test, we're not sure we'd be able to differentiate it from a SaladWorks creation.

Unless, Of Course, It Came with a Side of Regis Philbin

And with our La Scala experience, it almost doesn't matter what else happens to us in Los Angeles, because we already have an appropriately ridiculous story to serve as our favorite west coast anecdote.  Because in LA, it turns out you don't have to go to the Hollywood Walk of Fame to find the stars -- you only need to head to La Scala.

La Scala's Original Chopped Salad: 4 stars

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: Great Hot Dog Expectations

Chili Dog -- Carneys, Los Angeles, CA

Carneys

The problem with being the Best Thing I Ever Ate dish that we're most looking forward to eating in Los Angeles is that our expectations are ten-times higher than usual.  So this is the issue faced by Carneys, home of Marc Summers favorite chili dog from THE CLASSICS episode of the program.

What Are These "Vegetables" With Which You Are Tainting Our Hot Dog?

To say hot dogs are a guilty pleasure for us would be an understatement, as in truth, we don't really have much guilt about eating them at all.  

Yeah, We Don't Care What It's Comprised Of -- Just Hand It Over

Past experiences have shown that, in general, we are relatively unimpressed by the Food Network's stars' choices of dogs on a bun, despite the fact that we will literally eat any hot dog placed in front of us, no matter its source.  So with Carneys, being a bit of an LA institution (what with the vintage rail car setting and all), we are expecting great things.

Quick Question: Is This the Bar Car?

Getting to Carneys is no easy feet, as it involves schlepping up multiple flights of stairs and crossing Sunset Boulevard sans crosswalk (really, if LA just encouraged people to walk around a little more, perhaps there wouldn't be such need for the preponderance of personal trainers).  

Our Route to Carneys = More Stairs Than We've Climbed in a Month

Huffing and puffing once we reach the Carneys counter, Vodka orders one chili dog, which the server immediately asks if we'd like to split.

"They're very good about splitting dishes here," Ginger notes.  "No one in New York would ever ask us."

What They're Also Very Good About Is Not Being Stressed to Serve Patrons Promptly

Indeed, perhaps this is how LA residents keep their slim fingers despite the lack of walking: no one ever consumes an entire plate of food.

Ah Ha! We Have Figured Out Your Magical Ways, Los Angeles

The hot dog arrives quickly, and upon inspection, all looks well.  While smothered in chili is not necessarily how we would choose to order our own dogs, we're not opposed to the topping.

Our first bites, however, reveal something else.  Namely, disappointment.

Sorry, Where Can We Find the HOT DOG?

Somehow, despite components that appear as though they should all be delicious, this hot dog is lacking.  

Never Trust a West Coast Resident to Make an East Coast Dish

The meat itself is almost completely masked by the overwhelming amount of chili, which we would forgive should the chili actually have a pleasing flavor (or really, any flavor at all, as this is just about the blandest variety we've ever tasted).  

Can Someone Please Send LA Some Salt?

"How do you possibly make a chili dog wrong?" Ginger asks.  "A hot dog should be so much better."

Maybe We Should Have Taken a Hint By the Fact That We Were Carneys's Only Customers

And there is the risk faced with those Best Thing I Ever Ate locations who serve our favorite foods -- the higher the expectations, the greater the fall.  And in the case of a hot dog, maybe it is true that an old one really can't be taught new tricks.

Carneys's Chili Dog: 2 stars