Plantains...cubans just get it.

Ahi nama! Sometimes, simplicity is key. It's true for makeup, architecture, relationships, and food. It's less true if you are a drag queen, Gaudi enthusiast or DMV employee...but rarely is anything universally valid.

Rice, beans and PLANTAINS. What's complicated about that? Nothing. What's wonderful about that? Everything.

Gwen Stefani probably should have sang the praises of these mouth watering bringers of joy and love, but I understand that P-L-A-N-T-A-I-N doesn’t sound as hip-hoppity fun as B-A-N-A-N-A. None the less, I have written her people to correct the wrong.

PLANTAINS are a staple of diet in the Caribbean, South and Central America, several African countries, India and my kitchen.

By simple default of having eaten their version the most, Cubans get full credit for the best plantains I’ve had... and since I rarely order PLANTAINS alone, it's important to note that part of their appeal is how they compliment the meal. The fabulous versatility of this humble relative of the common banana is that it CAN be just dessert, but why leave it at that when you can mash them into your black beans and rice or on top of your garlic chicken. It works everywhere! You can't do that with cherry pie! Try as you might, pie + meat loaf will "no doubt" send you to a p-o-r-t-a-p-o-t-t-y faster than you can say bad joke.

How you like your PLANTAINS cooked is personal preference. Some like them a bit more firm and less sweet. I call those people wimps. I want mine as soft as possible (saves me the work when I'm mashing them into my beans and rice) and well coated in sticky, buttery sweetness.

My personal favorite Cuban spot in LA is El Cochinito. It means little pig... which is misleading because every time I go I am in fact a big pig. There are blog wars fought in LA over whether El Cochinito's down home charm (by charm I mean hole in the wall in a strip mall) and excellent food out weights Versailles more well known fare. Honestly, both are good. If I had to create the perfect LA-Cuban plate I would take Versailles garlic chicken (with extra sauce) and an order of their PLANTAINS and El Cochinitio’s black beans and rice along with their PLANTAINS. I'd also order the lechon asdado from both spots....but I digress.

If you live in LA, great. Try El Cochinito and Versailles and decide for yourself. If you live elsewhere, go mash some local PLANTAINS into local beans and rice and enjoy. If you live in Cuba...well done my friends, well done.

http://www.yelp.com/biz/el-cochinito-restaurant-los-angeles

http://www.versaillescuban.com/

Thanks Dee for turning me into a not so little pig.

Chouquette...you rocked my breakfast world.

When it comes to breakfast, I’ve always been more of a breakfast burrito girl. A pastry feels like dessert and that just seems like the gateway drug to my eating a Snickers bar with my coffee... and calling it the breakfast of champions. My morning cuisine world was rocked however when I met the humble CHOUQUETTE. It’s the French equivalent of the doughnut hole…except the French have the class not to use the word hole in their pastry of choice. Basically, it’s a flaky, buttery, puff pastry baked to golden perfection with nuggets of course sugar on the outside. Funny how so many delicious things have a simple ingredients list. The CHOUQUETTE boasts little more than flour, butter, salt, sugar, eggs and milk. There is nothing on the inside as not to spoil its simplicity. It’s a delicate, melt in your mouth treat served up in French bakeries in little paper sacks (to make it even more freakin’ cute). The correct pronunciation is Shoo-ket…but I just usually go with the standard classless “Ill have that” while pointing my finger at desired food item. The French also realize that something this good should not be relegated to one specific category such as breakfast. They eat it whenever they want and, as the French baker who introduced me said, “we eat them like you eat popcorn.” I immediately purchased a ticket to France, bought a summer home in the countryside and opened my own bakery…in my head.

I was introduced to the CHOUQUETTE in Portland’s Saint Honore Boulangerie, but they are popular in most French bakeries…and if you are a jet setter…in France. In doing my research, I did find several blogs arguing which bakeries in Paris serve excellent CHOUQUETTES, and which are to be spit upon (the French like to spit). Investigate appropriately as I would be devastated if an imposter ruined the experience for anyone. Also, don’t get the ones in plastic bags,…they’re bad for the environment. Free with purchase of each paper sack of CHOUQUETTES is a visual of yourself in a French café sipping espresso and watching the sun dapple the side of some awe inspiring architectural gem…or… an American tourist in white Reeboks and a fanny pack being berated by a French waiter for ordering the local delicacy, French fries. All beautiful.

Food trucks food trucks, I love you...gyros, pierogi and thai snacks too!

The FOOD TRUCK movement that has exploded onto the culinary scene and taken the country by storm has its roots in both a paradigm shift of entrepreneurial thinking ("think big" is now "think smart") and the economic state of things (our belts are so tight we're wearing corsets).

Once the foray of churro stands and hot dog vendors, parking lots are sprouting FOOD TRUCKS like weeds. They offer a creative environment and the freedom to be your own boss. Everyone from maverick chefs to the housewife with a great recipe repertoire has a shot at the prize...a long line of hungry customers and a writeup in notable food publications. Financially, the yearly permit on a FOOD TRUCK versus a restaurant lease is the difference between tent camping and renting out the Taj Mahal.

What does it mean for foodies? Not only does the food come considerably cheaper from a truck (my gyro from a highly touted truck in Portland cost me $7...smaller overhead = lower price) but the core of cuisine, taste, is the only selling point. The playing field is level. All the other factors that diners pay for are eliminated; ambiance, architecture, table service, posh clientele, singing waiters, location...gone, gone, gone. When 30 trucks line up in a parking lot the only competitive edge is the quality of the food they serve. Only the really tasty can survive when there is nothing to hide behind. And where have you ever seen so many options within one block...Thai, Greek, Polish, Vietnamese, Bosnian, Mexican, French, Korean, vegan, Italian.... No restaurant has to endure that much competition within, literally, a few paces. Keeps everyone at the top of their game.

What do you look for when you see a parking lot of trucks? A line. I look for the locals... construction workers, cops, meter maids...those are the return customers. This very morning in Portland (home to a thriving and fabulous FOOD TRUCK scene) I grabbed a breakfast burrito from a truck where a group of hard-hatters were doing the same. The burrito was awesome. Over 3 days I ate at Portland's FOOD TRUCKS 6 times, always looking for lines... with a 98% success rate.

So find a lot-o-trucks and remember the golden rule...if the garbage guy is there then it's probably worth getting in line...cause he's not there for the chandeliers or to be seen.

Search online for FOOD TRUCKS in your area. Most of them have twitter accounts (weird). Here are two for LA and Portland...

http://www.findlafoodtrucks.com

http://www.foodcartsportland.com

*FOOD TRUCKS also sometimes go by the code name "food carts." Don't let that fool you.

Foie Gras Burger...duck meet cow meet my mouth.

It's widely believed that making a good burger is simple. It's so ubiquitous that one is lulled into the assumption that it's easily perfected… just throw some meat on a grill, flip it over, toss it on a bun with a bunch of extras and viola! However, my little grasshopper, the act that seems so simple is in fact an art form, attempted by many yet perfected by few. I love a good burger...who doesn’t (vegetarians excluded from previous comment), but the truth is that I rarely find a burger that really makes me want to come back. The fact that there is an endless array of possibilities within the simple idea of burgerdom adds to the dilemma. A well made burger can be as simple as meat on bread, yet with the right blend of beef (or sometimes more exotic fare) and skill in preparation, it can stand its ground against any bells and whistles laden competitor. With that said, I am always a fan of chefs going out on a limb to try something new and creative. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't... but the attempt is always appreciated and admired. One such burger that I encountered on a recent visit to Seattle was the FOIE GRAS BURGER with black truffle and artichoke aiioli at Campagne. Like all food, especially of the more exotic variety, it attracts a certain palate…and a certain moral persuasion. I won’t get into the ethics of foie gras, but I will simply state that I find it delicious. If ducks found such great joy in the act of eating my liver, I could hardly blame them for doing so. Anyway, the burger caught my attention immediately. That’s a start, but by no means a guaranteed finger-licker since a jellybean and banana burger would equally catch my eye…and then see me through to the restroom at a determined pace that you can’t mistake for anything other than someone about to be ill. The FOIE GRAS BURGER, however, arrived and delivered. The delicate Wagyu beef complimented the two slices of buttery foie gras in a way that brought out the flavor of both without canceling each other out. I was initially a bit concerned about the marinated onion overpowering the meat but the marinating Gods smiled favorably on these onions and took the whole operation up a notch. I prefer my burgers medium rare, unless the house recommends otherwise, and the FOIE GRAS BURGER was just as moist as it should be without creating a murder scene on my plate. Well done Campagne well done.

http://www.campagnerestaurant.com/camp_menu.html

*This will not be my only burger post as a good burger is always worthy of a writeup.

Badminton Cup...I'm so glad I was driven to drink so I could find you!

I don't drink. I haven't in years. The fun thing about not drinking is that when you tell people you don't drink they look at you funny, and, if they're brave, they ask "Oh, did you have a problem?" My answer is "Yes, yes I did. It made me fat." Truth is, I rather eat a slice of cake than suck down the same amount of calories in a cocktail. All this brings me to how I found the great and wonderful BADMINTON CUP. My last job taught me the meaning of the term 'driven to drink.' I found myself working on a project that was such a disaster, people, with genuine concern, said to me "Kinga, be careful. This might be a reality show. Maybe they are trying to see what your snapping point is."

Just short of that snapping point we found ourselves at The Slanted Door in San Francisco. God bless that place. We made them furious, were totally unprofessional and yet they still took wonderful care of us. At one point I found myself face to frosty glass with a beautifully presented cocktail... The BADMINTON CUP. I stared at it for a moment, mesmerised by the perfect sprig of mint blossoming from the fresh slice of cucumber; the drink itself, opaque in a way that implies a subtle sweetness with tart undertones; and a dimly lit atmosphere complete with sad music (playing in my head)...then I reached out with the desperate gesture of a person grasping at something that will slow their decent into madness and acts of violence... and without a second thought, sucked half of it down. Now, I might not be a drinker, but I do know a good drink. This one was magical. It was delicious. It was sweet, but not too sweet. It was just tart enough to hit the taste buds with enough force to activate the salivary glands, with a hint of mint that tied it all together and at once complimented each individual ingredient...a perfect blend of Plymouth gin, lime, mint and cucumber, served long. Most importantly, it kept me from doing something drastic...like going back to my room and ordering $800 worth of room service dessert.

If this entry sounds like an excerpt from my diary, forgive me, it is. It just so happens that my diary entry is about an absolutely fantastic drink. I think that's fair.

http://www.slanteddoor.com/

Thank you fate for orchestrating events in such a way that I was forced to find myself enjoying this delightful drink.

Funnel Cake...deep fried nostalgia.

I wish I could revise the food pyramid. Its outdated anyway so someone should. If that someone were me, it would look something like this:

6-11 servings of fried things,

3-5 servings of stuff with truffle oil on it,

2-4 servings of hot dogs...fully loaded,

2-3 servings of thai food,

And finally, use green leafy stuff sparingly.

Speaking of deep fried...there is one food item held in esteem above all others in this department...the FUNNEL CAKE. Deep fried dough covered in powdered sugar and cinnamon (I skip the fruit toppings for a more pure experience) and a native habitat of fairs, carnivals, sporting events, piers and amusement parks...its the pegasus of fried foods. I only indulge a few times a year since regular consumption would diminish the funnel cake's magical nostalgia inducing-properties... and also probably kill me.

I like to envision Norman Rockwell creating his iconic paintings while eating FUNNEL CAKE and drinking a Coke...Oh, and wrapped in an American flag while humming "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" on a freshly mowed lawn. Awkward? Not in the slightest!

I salute you oh mighty FUNNEL CAKE, oh bringer-inner of summer.

If you live in LA, your year round options are The Grove ( in the old school farmers market) and the Santa Monica Pier. If you live in the midwest, its probably sold in your local gas station. East coast residents can most likely hit up their local pier or sea side amusement park, and boast that their region is where the mighty FUNNEL CAKE originated in the US. If it ever comes up at trivia night...or if you really want to impress a date...go ahead and throw out that the FUNNEL CAKE is part of Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine with Germanic roots (I'd be impressed...but I don't know about normal girls).

If you like FUNNEL CAKE, you might also like: lemonade, the sound of cicadas, the smell of honeysuckle, golden retrievers, BBQ, muscle cars and hanging out at Wal Mart.

Japanese Chicken Meatballs...delicious wobbly bits.

Meatballs are like hot dogs. No one really knows what's in them, but they are so tasty that we ignore the unsettling feeling they might be made from the wobbly bits of various critters. Yakitori is Japanese grilled, skewered chicken. What I like about the Japanese is that they own their wobbly bits and proudly list them on the menu. At Nanban-Kan the CHICKEN MEATBALLS are delicious and one might safely assume that they are made from the non funky pieces of chicken. How do I make this sleuth like deduction? Because the funky pieces of chicken are listed all on their own. You can order skewered chicken skin, chicken tails, chicken neck, chicken cartilage and chicken liver (other creatures of land and sea are available in tasty skewered form as well). So, my point is that if all those lovely parts are being used in their own right, then the CHICKEN MEATBALLS are probably made with the boring ole leftover white breast meat. Here's a confession....I was eating with a friend who might not be used to my odd eating habits, so when I saw chicken tails on the menu (my favorite part of a chicken) I desperately wanted to indulge, but was embarassed. My loss. I'll have to go back and dive right into the funky stuff. Wobbly bits are generally my favorite bits.

Everything we ordered was very tasty (the lamb was also excellent), but I chose the CHICKEN MEATBALLS for blogging purposes because they were the standout favorite. The fact that everything on the menu is between $4 and $9 is pretty good too. Portions are small, but that gives you more opportunity to try a variety. We ordered up a storm between the two of us and our bill was under $60. Nice.

http://www.yelp.com/biz/nanbankan-los-angeles

Thanks Julie for the recommendation and thanks Jenn for testing it out with me! Next time I hope you are up for chicken tails.