Author Archives: Daina Beth Solomon

College kids lunch at Earlez Grille

pastrami sandwich

A few weeks ago, I took 30 students from Occidental College’s “Urban Fictions” literature class to Leimert Park.  We stopped at Earlez Grille at Crenshaw and Exposition for lunch, thanks to the enthusiastic recommendation from a neighbor who used to work with City Councilman Bernard Parks in the area. “Everyone goes to Earlez Grille!” he said.

Turns out, he’s right. As Jonathan Gold wrote for the LA Weekly in 2008,

“Earlez Grille is a major crossroads of the Crenshaw Strip, popular with politicians, poets and rap stars. If you sit at a table long enough, nursing a bowl of vegan chili and a tall paper cup of lemonade, all of South Los Angeles passes before your eyes.”

I believe this is the line that hooked the course professor.  I’ve been working with Raul Villa this spring 2012 semester to develop class projects to get the students off-campus, and out of Northeast L.A. The students are all frosh, and most have come to Occidental from all over the country. We wanted them to see new parts of L.A., observe the urban milieu, and become a part of the city experience. The opportunity to see all of South Los Angeles pass before your eyes? What a treat.

Then day dawned dark and rainy. But no matter. Earlez Grille was open. Hot dogs and pastrami sandwiches awaited us.  Along with Jamaican patties, pickles, pies and “playa’s juice” (that’s play-uh, not the Spanish playa).  Before we could order, an employee bounded out of the kitchen and into the dining room to reel off the menu items like an MC announcing a terrific concert lineup. “These are the best hot dogs in L.A.! Hot off the grill!”  No one needed much convincing. “Then we have pastrami sandwiches!  They’re the best in L.A.!”  We believe ya, man.

Just before we left, a crowd gathered outside. Some carried signs and bullhorns. Many wore hoodies. Not just because of the rain, but in solidarity with Trayvon Martin, who was tragically shot and killed in Florida a few days before. The march was en route to Leimert Park for a rally protesting the shooting and Florida’s handling of the case.

Meanwhile, inside at Earlez Grille, a television screen showed Wattstax, the 1973 documentary about a jazz festival held at L.A.’s coliseum in 1972 to commemorate the 7th anniversary of the Watts Riots. Many saw it as the African-American version of Woodstock, and tickets sold for just $1.  The documentary competed for attention, however, with a television at the opposite end of the eatery displaying colorful, exciting images.  It was a slideshow of menu items.

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Book Review: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver

Animal, Vegetable, Mineral

"Animal, Vegetable, Mineral"

Camille and Lily Kingsolver are lucky. Their mother, acclaimed novelist Barbara Kingsolver, has raised them to know when tomatoes are in season, how to collect chicken eggs, the best way to stuff sausage, and that potatoes have stems and leaves.  They also know how to make pickles.  Other children aren’t so fortunate, we find out in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, the family memoir-plus-environmental science book by Kingsolver (with contributions from her husband Steven L. Hopp and Camille).

In one scene, Camille’s teenage friend visits the Kingsolver home to find Barbara in front of green beans and a bubbling pot.  Kingsolver explains that she is making pickles.  The friend “dubiously surveyed the kitchen: me in my apron, the steaming kettle, the mountain of beans I was trimming to fit into the jars, the corners where my witch’s broom might lurk,” Kingsolver writes.  The friend doesn’t believe Kingsolver can make pickles from beans.  An hour later, she returns.  Kingsolver narrates, “She held her eyes very close to one of the jars and announced, “Nope! They didn’t turn into pickles!”

It’s a silly yet telling example of the high degree that Americans – especially my generation – have no clue what their food is, or where it comes from.  As a one-time science writer with two biology degrees, Kingsolver is more in tune. So is her family.  Hopp is an environmental biologist, Camille studied biology and anatomy at Duke University.  Lily, 9 years old when the book takes place, runs the family’s chicken-and-egg venture.  Together, the three set out to become “locavores” for one year, eating only local, organic and responsibly-cultivated foods.  The experiment coincides with a lifestyle change: the move from Tucson to a rural Virginia farm where they can grow produce and raise chickens and turkeys.

Why do it?  For several serious, well thought-out and articulated reasons.  To establish a connection to our food sources, and know their provenance firsthand.  To support farmers who value pesticide-free crops and responsible, sustainable practices.  To challenge our country’s dominant culture that wastes natural resources such as fossil fuel.  (“The average food item on a U.S. grocery shelf has traveled farther than most families go on their annual vacations,” says Kingsolver.)  And to play a part – even a small one – in reversing the trend.  It’s not necessarily a sacrifice, Kingsolver points out.  Home-grown, fresh, organic food is naturally tasty.

Kingsolver is no purist, she readily admits.  (Although the family’s indulgences don’t come close to marring their environmentally-responsible perfection – fair-trade coffee, out-of-state flour, dried fruit.)  And she isn’t trying to convert readers.  The tone is here-are-the-facts-now-you-decide.  She wants to enlighten readers and give them the knowledge and inspiration to find their own unique ways to follow her locavore example.

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle is not the first to consider such issues. Marion Nestle’s What to Eat, Peter Singer’s The Way We Eat: Why Our Food Choices Matter, Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Thomas McNamee’s Alice Waters and Chez Panisse and Eric Schlosser’s book for teens, Chew on This were all released during the same year as Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, 2008.  Jonathan Safran Foer’s Eating Animals followed in 2009.  Kingsolver contributes by bringing food science into the context of family life. She situates herself not just as researcher and commentator, but also as protagonist.

The book chronicles the locavore year month by month, season by season.  It begins in spring, when the first asparagus pops up.  (Don’t know how asparagus goes from the soil to your plate?  Kingsolver explains the whole process in gripping detail and colorful descriptions.)  Kingsolver tracks seasons not by the weather, but by “what’s up” in the garden – wild mushrooms, onions, cherries, zucchini, tomatoes.  Sowing, weeding, watering, picking, canning, preserving and joyful eating also follow the calendar. When the air gets cooler, Kingsolver sets about freezing and canning items to see the family through the winter.  She must also train rare heritage turkeys in the art of reproduction. The book concludes on a jubilant note when one of the hens successfully gives birth to chicks.

Although Kingsolver offers plenty of detail, I suspect she’s not entirely forthcoming about the challenges of farm work.  Surely it’s not as easy as slapping on a pair of jeans and crouching in the soil.  What about pesky flies and smelly manure?  Finding the right watering and irrigation methods?  Keeping the chicken coop clean?  (One exception is her explanation of the turkey “harvest” with its blood and guts.)

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle has turned me into a locavore-wannabe.  I scour grocery store aisles looking for “Grown in California” labels, but settle for tomatoes from Mexico, pineapple from Hawaii and kiwi from god-knows-where.  When spotting a BLT on a restaurant menu, I cry, “But it’s winter — tomatoes aren’t in season!”  Then eat it anyway.  I buy bread from the French guy at my local farmer’s markets, but also get my favorite Sara Lee pita at the market.  I know it will take time to adjust my buying and eating habits to a locavore lifestyle.  But Animal, Vegetable, Miracle has convinced me to give it a try.

Originally written for “Popular Science Writing” at Occidental College, Spring 2012


{Lotus Food Photo} Yucca Root

yucca

Do not say “yuck” about yucca!   Here it is at the Grand Central Market in downtown.  Reminds me of one of the creatures in Guillermo del Toro’s “Laberinto del fauno” (Pan’s Labyrinth).   In its peeled, boiled and fried form, yucca is a popular South American dish.  I’m a fan of the yucca served in bandeja paisa platters at some of my favorite Colombian restaurants, such as Chibcha, La Fonda Antioquena and Meson Criollo.


{Lotus Kitchen} Machine-made Sandwiches

today's sandwich

One could argue that a sandwich is the simplest food to prepare. Yet, I depend on my “Sandwich Maker” greatly. Ok, so it’s a bit of a misnomer; my Cuisinart Sandwich Maker doesn’t really make the sandwich for you. What it does is grill the sandwich on both sides, and press the ingredients into two neat triangular packages. Everything heats up simultaneously, and at equal temperatures. The bread toasts to a perfect crisp. The resulting sandwiches are a million times more appetizing than the ones I used to make by hand, even with warm ingredients.

Why is this important? Because I’ve had too many hungry moments of staring into the refrigerator and grabbing at leftovers, or munching slices of raw pita bread. It’s mindless eating, and does nothing good for my body or peace of mind. When I use the Sandwich Maker, even if I’m preparing the simplest cheese and prosciutto sandwich, I slow down to consider my food and enjoy it. Yeah, I know, the same should go for any cooked food, Sandwich Maker or not. But my Sandwich Maker is reliable, and easy to use. It has its own little spot on the counter and is always there. Somehow, I’ve come to depend on it.


Dosa, Biryani, Aloo Gobi and Shah Rukh Kahn

Dosa at Mayura / Daina Beth Solomon

I have discovered the perfect compliment to Indian food. It is not wine or beer. Nor a seasoning like salt or pepper. And I wouldn’t consider even the raita or mint chutney that I love. No, the perfect compliment is Shah Rukh Khan.  Thanks to modern technology, I don’t require his physical presence.  A widescreen television will do just fine.  Like the one they have at Mayura in Culver City.

Mayura specializes in food of Kerala (which happens to be the setting of one of my favorite books, “The God of Small Things” by Arundhati Roy).  I visited with a couple of friends (on Jonathan Gold’s recommendation) and we dined on dosas, biryani, aloo gobi, and vegetable curry.  Everything was delicious.  But not enough to keep our attention away from the big screen, and the sexy moves of Bollywood star Shah Rukh Khan.  Wow!  He seemed to dance with a million women, each more beautiful than the next.  Every frame revealed a new location ranging from deserts to snow-capped mountains, New York to Paris.  The outfits came in shocking fuchsia and emerald.  (Many seemed ’90s-era, we thought.)  Each music video lasted about 15 minutes.  We couldn’t hear the songs, but honestly, it didn’t matter.


{LA Weekly} 15 Words To Make You Sniggle

Sniglets – made-up words – have been part of my vocabulary for a long time.  I do not hesitate to “disconfect” candy that falls to the ground, dismiss the “peppier” at a restaurant or clear out “mustgos” from the refrigerator.  (See definitions below.)   So many sniglets have to do with food and dining that I was inspired to write the post below – and come up with some of my own.

Once you start making up sniglets, it’s hard to stop.  Just look at Paul Appleby who was profiled in The Onion.  My newest word is “aripaphobia.”  It’s the fear of eating a precious fruit (such as the Warren Pear I picked up at last week’s farmer’s market) either before it’s ripe, or after it’s too ripe.  Ah, the terror!

Thanks to Adam at the Lazy Ox Canteen for posing as a peppier for my photo.

15 Food and Dining Sniglets: Your Daily Vocab Quiz

By Daina Beth Solomon Wed., Dec. 28 2011 at 11:00 AM
Peppier.jpg

​The English language is rich and extensive, but sometimes we wish there were more words — especially about the joys and quirks of food and dining experiences. For that, we have “sniglets.” Sniglets were first created in the early ’80s by humorist Rich Hall on the TV show Not Necessarily the News. He defined a sniglet as “any word that doesn’t appear in the dictionary, but should.” The neologisms that appear in Hall’s various sniglet dictionaries express common experiences in ways that are often hilarious and useful. Many consist of word combinations, others of altered spellings. Some are just nonsense. What of “sniglet?”Dictionary.com tells us that the word is “said to be derivative of obsolete sniggle, to snicker.” Perhaps it’s true. Other dictionaries only give its modern meaning: to fish for eels.

These days you’ll find Hall’s sniglets not only in his books but also around the web. We’ve chosen 10 of our favorites and created five new ones. Any mashup specialists out there? Add your own sniglets in the comments. And if you know the derivation of “sniglet,” let us know about that too.

15. Burgacide (n): A hamburger’s death leap through the slots in a barbeque. (From Rich Hall, Fortunecity.com/meltingpot.)

14. Chipfault (n): The stress point on a potato chip where it breaks off and stays behind in the dip. (From Rich Hall, Krishna Kunchithapadam.)

13. Dessertation (n): A waiter’s litany of what’s on the dessert cart. (From Melissa N. Hayes-Gehrke, Dr. Melissa N. Hayes-Gehrke’s Homepage.)

12. Disconfect (v): To sterilize the piece of candy you dropped on the floor by blowing on it, somehow assuming this will `remove’ all the germs. (From Rich Hall, Ziplink.)

11. Expresshole (n): A person who goes through the grocery store’s 12-item express lane with 22 items. (From Rich Hall, Ziplink.)

10. Frigerobics (n): Leaning, bending, and stretching while looking into the refrigerator.(From Melissa N. Hayes-Gehrke, Dr. Melissa N. Hayes-Gehrke’s Homepage.)

9. Genderplex (n): The predicament of a person in a restaurant who is unable to determine his or her designated restroom (e.g. turtles and tortoises). (From Rich Hall,Unexplained Sniglets of the Universe.)

8. Musquirt (n): The water that comes out of the initial squirts of a squeeze mustard bottle. (From Rich Hall, Fortunecity.com/meltingpot.)

7. Mustgo (n): Any item of food that has been sitting in the refrigerator so long it has become a science project. (From Bert Christensen, Bert Christensen’s Cyberspace Home.)

6. Peppier [pep-ee-ay] (n): The waiter at a fancy restaurant whose sole purpose seems to be walking around asking diners if they want ground pepper. (From Rich Hall, Ziplink.)

And now, a few of our own:

5. Aquajammer (n): A friend of the peppier, the aquajammer’s sole purpose is to approach one’s table with water refills or fresh glasses every few minutes.

4. Gadgetation (n): The heart-racing sensation of entering a store stocked with shiny cooking gadgets, such as Williams-Sonoma, Sur La Table, or Surfas.

3. Headtwisty (adj.): The stiffness experienced after craning one’s neck around a restaurant to see: a) celebrities, b) the chef, c) the server, d) the bathroom, e) the specials menu on a far-away blackboard.

2. Reservignation (n): The acceptance of defeat and disappointment after one fails to secure a table at the newest celebrity chef restaurant.

1. Untensil (n): A fork, knife, spoon, spork or chopstick that’s been bent out of shape in an effort to relieve tension.

Read the full article here.


Santa Monica Farmer’s Market (Photo Slideshow)

Watermelon Radishes

As a kid in Santa Monica, I went to the local farmer’s markets all the time.   They were exotic compared to boring old Ralph’s – always full of surprises, yet consistent enough to be dependable.  And who can deny the allure of fruit samples?  Plus, they sold clothes and jewelry, a total plus.  In fact, I bought my Bat Mitzvah dress at the Westwood farmer’s market.  

Lately, I’ve been a regular at the downtown farmer’s market outside City Hall.  But it’s more enjoyable for the people watching (I run into LA Times colleagues ALL the time) than the vendors.   The market at the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade, however, offers a dizzying array of produce and food options.   I stopped by this morning with the LA Weekly food editor, and snapped photos of the particularly colorful and unique-looking plants, fruits, and vegetables.

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{LA Weekly} 11 New Restaurants for New Year’s Eve

11 New Restaurants for New Year’s Eve

By Daina Beth Solomon Mon., Dec. 19 2011 at 2:59 PM
Picca-AnneFisbein.jpg

Picca / Anne Fishbein

On New Year’s Eve, restaurants celebrate with live bands, festive décor, theme dinners, exceptional ingredients, multi-course meals, tasting menus and endless glasses of bubbly. How to choose the best spot? We’ve selected 11 restaurants that opened in 2011 to represent a sampling of those that will be offering special menus for the holiday. Reservations are recommended for all locations, listed below in alphabetical order.

Click here to read full article.


{Lotus Food Photo} Lemon Pound Cake at Bäco Mercat

{Lotus Food Photo} Lemon Pound Cake at Bäco Mercat

Voila! Take a look at my best food photo yet. Aren’t you absolutely dazzled? I’ll tell you my trick: a flashlight. Restaurants are too damn dark at night for any photos to come out well. A flash is too harsh and bright (unless you know how to deflect the light). But a flashlight, held a couple of feet above the dish at angle, did the trick perfectly. I only wish the idea had occurred to me before desert.


{Lotus Kitchen} Ruth Reichl’s Scalloped Potatoes

My scalloped potatoes, thanks to Ruth Reichl's recipe.

When I was 15, I had a lucky break.  I mean that in two ways.  Literally, because I broke my foot in a ballet rehearsal for “Paquita.”  As I prepared to execute a pas de chat, the lisfranc ligament in my right foot snapped.  (In retrospect, it was probably because I was also in rehearsals for “Concerto Barocco,” a fabulous Balanchine ballet with a million hops on pointe.)  My leg was stuck in a cast for months.

But I ended up very fortunate.  Instead of spending the summer at Boston Ballet as I had planned, I trekked up to UC Berkeley for studies and a taste of college life.   By then, my foot had healed enough to walk.  I was eager to explore a new city, and Berkeley enchanted me.  The diverse people, bustling streets, sense of history – all with Cal as a hub.  At the same time, I was becoming acquainted with Ruth Reichl.  Continue reading


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