Dining out of doors is always a good idea, especially during a viral pandemic, of course. I do miss sitting at a table and soaking in the ambiance and environment of a well-designed space, but I’ll survive. Indoor dining will resume for me …
Last night a patio in the Arts District, in downtown Los Angeles, was the venue, and the happy hour menu at Yxta Cocina Mexicana was the occasion. It was our first time there, and it’s been added to our recommend list, because the food was excellent.
Guacamole with toasted pumpkin seeds, tortilla chips warm and salty and fresh, and six well-made tacos, starting with Lela’s Ground Beef and continuing with Tacos de Carnitas, the latter featuring blue-corn tortillas.
Moist, succulent pork and a perfect tortilla
The pork had been cooked with care, and it was flavorful and moist, and crisp in all the right places. The cilantro, onions, and guacamole completed the plate.
Ground beef, tomatoes, potatoes, jack cheese, and a fried tortilla
My mother often made tacos and filled them with seasoned ground beef, and we — my father and sisters and I — loved them. I have in my heart a soft spot for such tacos, so when we saw a version on the menu at Yxta we didn’t hesitate. And the decision paid off.
I love the way the ground beef tacos were sat on chipotle mashed potatoes, so they would stand upright and allow one to handle them neatly. The potatoes, here, had a dual purpose, because we ate them all, with relish. Spicy, rich, comforting they were, and if you dine at Yxta do not leave them on the plate.
The tortillas were fried in oil, an oil that we could not taste, because the cook knew what he or she was doing with temperature and time. They were crisp and hot and melted in the mouth, combining with the meat and salsa and cheese and lettuce in a beautiful way.
I ordered a final plate during our meal, Tacos de Papa. I thought I could eat them, but I was wrong. I put them in a box, and had them for lunch today. The chipotle mashed potatoes star in this taco, pairing with tangy cabbage, queso fresco, and salsa brava. I warmed them gently in a convection oven, and lunch was good.
A week or so ago an email arrived that piqued my attention, and appetite. It was a pitch for Valentine’s Day story, one that involved cake. Olive oil cake, to be exact.
I like to make olive oil cakes, and I order them often for dessert at restaurants. I’ve had some great ones in Italy and New York and Los Angeles, so I accepted the email’s kind offer to have one delivered to me.
Little House Confections is the bakery behind the item, named Bomb Ass Olive Oil Cake, and I’ll be a regular customer.
Once I opened the attractively wrapped box from Little House Confections, this is what I saw.
Moist and flavorful, dense and light in the mouth at the same time — such a pleasurable sensation— and not overly sweet. Cut a slice and the crumb keeps its shape and texture. My dessert fork’s tines accepted this cake ($42) in a wonderful manner … it was attractive on the plate as well.
Here are the ingredients, according to the baker: extra virgin olive oil, flour, freshly squeezed orange juice, orange zest, vanilla, sugar, eggs, baking powder, baking soda, and love. (Yes, it is always better if one bakes and cooks with love … ) Note: You can order a gluten-free version of this cake.
Liz Roth, the owner and founder of Little House Confections, began the enterprise in April 2020 as a charitable campaign to raise funds and awareness for Covenant House of California. Once people in the Los Angeles area began tasting Roth’s wares, which were made in her home kitchen, the clamoring began. Little House is now an ongoing business, and Roth and her team are still contributing a portion of the bakery’s profits to a local charity each month — consult the Little House Confection website for details.
Liz Roth has a hit on her hands. (Courtesy Little House Confections)
Roth began her baking journey in her mother’s kitchen as a youth, and a passion was born there. She enrolled in Le Cordon Bleu culinary school in 2007, but had to undergo spinal surgery a few months later, which ended her studies. Interior design, her other passion, gained her talents when she left the culinary school, and Roth worked for Cliff Fong before opening Elizabeth Roth Home.
COVID-19’s arrival planted the idea in Roth’s head that took her back to the olive oil cake recipe she had perfected in her mother’s kitchen … and her charitable baking venture was born. Since then, Little House Confections has donated more than $25,000 to worthy organizations, and the cakes and other baked goods keep coming. (I’m looking forward to tasting Roth’s chocolate birthday cake.)
If you are in Los Angeles, I recommend that you order the Bomb Ass Olive Oil Cake for Valentine’s Day; unfortunately, Little House Confections does not yet ship its creations, but stay tuned.
The Laetitia Brut Cuvée seemed made to be quaffed with olive oil cake.
I had my first slice of the cake for dessert one evening last week, and paired it with two sparkling wines, a non-vintage brut cuvée from Laetitia Vineyard and Winery, and the 2016 Rouge from Frank Family Vineyards. I knew that both bottles would be ideal companions for the cake, and my dining companion agreed after we sampled them.
The Laetitia, hailing from the Arroyo Grande Valley AVA, is comprised of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Pinot Blanc, and you can find it for $28 (or $22.40 if you join the Laetitia wine club). It’s Méthode Champenoise, and it represents great value. The fruit was harvested by hand, and was pressed whole-cluster. The brioche notes here are marvelous, and I think this wine deserves a place in anyone’s inventory.
If you want to pour a California sparkling wine at your table, this one, from Frank Family Vineyards, would be a great choice.
The Frank Family Rouge ($55) is a dramatic pour, in color and more. Its brilliant ruby tone is festive, rich, and inviting to the eye. It is 73 percent Pinot Noir and 27 percent Chardonnay. The acidity of this wine (Los Carneros AVA) appealed to me immensely, and I’ve added it to my “always have on hand” list. It was disgorged on April 26, 2020, after spending three years on its yeast. (Here’s a look at the people behind Frank Family Vineyards, a piece I wrote for PaperCity.)
I’m now inspired to make my version of olive oil cake, so check this space soon for the recipe and method.
I am a pizza snob. And I’m unapologetic about it. I detest bad, poorly made pie.
To be clear, “my” pizza must have a thin, crisp, charred crust. (I will not shun anyone who prefers deep-dish monstrosities or any other of the myriad inferior forms of pizza, but I don’t pretend to understand their preferences.) It must have (depending on the pie I order) fresh mozzarella, and olives that are full of acidity and brininess. It must have a sauce made with care, but it cannot have too much of that sauce.
Above all, it must possess a crust that is moist, crisp, dense, and light, all at the same time. And it must be charred in the proper manner. When it is all of this, magic happens.
Last month, I found a pizza to my liking in Los Angeles, near our apartment downtown. The owners are from Brooklyn, and the name of their place is Pizza Sociale. (I am working on a story about them and their restaurant, so stay tuned for that in this space soon.) In the meantime, here’s a look at two of their pies.
The Mama Maria: Lioni mozzarella, provolone, Bava Brothers ‘Nduja and soppressata, cotto, shaved Parmigiano Reggiano, and oreganoLioni mozzarella Truffle Cheese, caramelized onions, mushrooms, shaved Parmigiano, truffle shavings
The sun itself was still obscured by the mountains visible from my living room window early this morning when I raised the shade, but its light was close to glorious, awesome in the true meaning of the word. One could even have called it holy.
Last night, for some reason, I was thinking of “The Year of Magical Thinking” — not the book, but the play. I attended a performance in 2007, in March of that year, at the Booth, and have not forgotten it. The words of Joan Didion, the stage presence and feelings of Vanessa Redgrave, and loss. Loss so stunning and final that the mind is sheared flat by the force of it.
This morning, when I walked out to the living room, I saw that light. I stood at the wall of windows for a few minutes, not wanting to let it go. It was blue and orange and gold and pink, and it was waking up downtown Los Angeles, where I now live.
Several minutes later, while drinking a coffee, I came across an email that told me this: Today is Joan Didion’s birthday. After reading that, I walked back over to the windows and watched the sun rise above Los Angeles, a city whose stories Didion told well. I then thought of this quote of hers:
Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends.
As you know it.
Joan Didion in Hollywood, 1968 (Photo by Julian Wasser)
I have read most of Didion’s work, but I will soon begin reading it again, in my new city.
Happy Birthday, Ms. Didion. I hope you celebrated well.
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