Russian Food in The Valley - Sweet Sour Goodness

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Just had to let you guys know about a fabulous hidden gem of a deli in The Valley right by Gelson's at Laurel Canyon and Riverside. It's called Grandma's Deli and trust me, I ain't never had a grandma like this.

Yummy, delectable horseradish from the place where horseradish thrives and is appreciated, damnit!

It's not a big place, though it certainly is interesting inside. You might as well be on a little side street in Moscow. Everything's in Russian: the newspapers, the products, the people. It's all got the clunky odd lettering that is just south of Chinese to me (though in reality the truth is opposite. Beijing is Southeast of Moscow).

I love it and frankly, this is my heritage. While growing up, I was rarely made privy to the cuisine and culture of my father's relatives and ancestors but when I tasted some marinated roasted peppers one weekend at Grandma's it all came back. Like Ruskie boots in the hardened snow I felt like I was home... in that sort of way us mutts define home. Now I make a weekly weekend pilgrimage to this out-of-the-way storefront, exploring what I imagine to be the food of "my people."

My people apparently like Black Tea

There's really more food than you know what to do with at Grandma's and the majority is homemade.

Slaw and other Vegetarian Goodness

There are some things that are here all the time yet every now and again, there seems to be something new above and underneath the deli glass. You'll be likely to find Baked Sturgeon (which Anna, the owner, pronounces STOOERgin), Chicken Meatballs - some of my favorite, coated in a delectable sweet and sour red sauce, Beef Stroganoff, Stuffed Cabbage with Chicken, Beef Liver with Onion, and their number 1 seller, Veal with Onion, which even though I'm not a huge veal fan for many reasons, I had to try it. Anna asked me. And a word to the betting man, if I'm thought to lose my moral compass in the future, you'll know where to find me.

Liver and Onions

Chicken Meatballs - oy gevalt!

There are also desserts like small delicious little chocolate cakes with walnuts, blintzes and rugelach with raspberry. And you can also purchase different types of sausage and meats.

Blintz Krieg

Veal, Chicken Weiners, What's Not To Like?

By the way, Anna, the adorable owner (or manager - I'm not sure which!) who's lived in LA less than 7 years, is adorable, funny, warm and smart and seems very proud of the homemade fare that she has to offer. She's proud of what she's offering and works hard but doesn't look it. She treats you like I don't know - like you're special. It's nice to go into a place and be treated like a distant family member. You kind of can't wait for your number to be up. But when you're next in line, you end up listening to that strange language, the "da's" being said back and forth, while Anna's made-up assistant, brings forth trays of fresh made kabobs or breaded tender chicken filets, from inside the kitchen out into the store.

It's kind of awesome. My ancestors who know nothing of my existence would be proud.



So when you get a chance, drop by, grab some stuff to take home (there are no tables at the deli) and enjoy. If you love food and like sampling different cuisines, or if you're Russian and you miss home, you'll wish Anna was your Grandma. Let's face it, it's nice to feel taken care of and like the little babushka you really are, which you really are, deep down inside. You are.

Look at how happy that little babushka is!

Grandma's Deli is at 4818 Laurel Canyon Boulevard, Valley Village, California, 91607 in an outdoor mini mall. The entrance is either off of Riverside or Laurel Canyon, depending where you're coming from. It's open 7 days a week, 9 a.m. to 9 p.m, meaning there's just no excuse not to get your Russian on. Parking in the lot there is free and there is street parking. Also you'll probably get away with parking at Gelson's and crossing the street if there's no parking available - though as of yet, I've never encountered that. 818-762-8980.

(There's also a sister restaurant in West Hollywood on Sunset called Grandma's Deli Babushka. I haven't been, so of course I cannot say what it's like, but I'll report back as soon as I make a visit. The reviews online though look gooooooood. 7300 Sunset Boulevard, West Hollywood, CA 90046. 323.851.2312).

*pictured up top, Anna's Special Veal. Check out her assistant, munching something awfully good in the background. I love it!

A Great Saturday Morning: Discovering Breakfast at Blu Jam

I'm a huge breakfast snob and I really don't like places that overdo it. Those that do so shall go unnamed. Why be a hater? But what I will say is some of the most highly touted breakfast places in LA, the places EVERYONE tells you to go to, are heavy, give you way too much food, and load up on the uber fatty ingredients. Maybe if you're a hungover breakfast goer, you really want to pour it on to cut through the cigs from the night before. But for me, I like places that give the ingredients a chance. And frankly, if everything is about butter, syrup, and creams -- what are they trying to cover up, you know?

The Blu Jam Cafe on Melrose between Martel and Fuller is a good, hearty, delicious, non-gloppy breakfast that uses fresh, high-quality ingredients. Meaning: You don't have to take a nap afterwards.

I'm an eavesdropper. That guy was telling them about his China trip. One more fact: he ordered the cornflake encrusted French Toast and man, it looked GOOD.

First off, can I just say, there is now, finally, a very cool service-oriented generation. For a good decade you'd go to many a restaurant and feel as if you were pissing off the people who work there by simply showing up for your reservation. They didn't want their jobs - and they were hard jobs, to be sure - but they kind of let you know they were too good for it. There's a FANTASTIC trend now toward amazingly good service. This is in spades at Blu Jam.

The Host Desk/Front Desk People were super nice, funny, on it and adorable. Loved these guys. And I'm sure had we arrived 20 minutes after we did we would have had a very long wait, but we had about 15 minutes and then were seated. This was shortly before 10am on a Saturday. Here's the other thing: very realistic seating expectations were set by the front desk. And they had our number and texted us when our table was ready so we didn't have to stand right in front of them whipping our heads around every time one of them would duck out from behind their "podium." Actually what we did was take the host's suggestion and went to their bar to get an ice coffee while we waited. It was pretty delicious and right after we ordered it, we were seated.

Norwegian Eggs Benedict at Blu Jam

This is what I chose: The Large and In Charge Norwegian Eggs Benedict with Dill Hollandaise, Spinach and Salmon. In NYC, on the Upper West Side, me and my friend Allison used to go to a place that called this dish Eggs Benny. Allison, if you read this blog please remind me the name of that restaurant joint! Anyway, Blu Jam's version was just as fantastic. And they had a little chive on it that added a light mellow onion touch. Though I could have had potatoes, I ordered the fruit. Considering I was having the Hollandaise I thought on some level I must be healthy. It's always a gamble. I've gotten so hosed with choosing fruit in the past because have you ever noticed when you order fruit in lieu of potatoes they give you pretty much every piece of fruit you don't normally eat and none of it is ripe? It's like hard, freezing cold melon varieties and if you're really unlucky you get some rind thrown in. Well, this was Farmer's Market fresh: Strawberries, grapes, pineapple, blueberries... tart and sweet and at the end of the day, I didn't just feel healthy, I felt respected.

Homemade Granola, Blu Jam

My husband got the granola which has like about 50 ingredients in it (almonds, coconut, flax seed, raisins, you name it). It was so freakin delicious. One of the best granolas in any restaurant I've ever eaten. They gave him a scoop of yogurt (you can get milk) and it was clearly not enough. So they gave him another scoop and I believe they did that free of charge. So nice of them.

French Press Coffee, Blu Jam style

At Blu Jam I had two cups of this Costa Rican (they have a different type daily). Super yummy, edgy, perfect. I could marry it. I'm beginning to think my relationship with coffee is in the unhealthy area. You know what I mean? I love it as if I can't live without it. And by the way, I can't. I might have to soon start to look at my coffee situation. Some day. We quit things in the order they kill us, right? And you know seriously, if I was killed by coffee it wouldn't be the worse thing. I'd certainly die energetically.

TD and our waiter

Doesn't that look like "the film's director" in the background? Or like I captured the image of a ghost? I know. But listen, I just want to say "hi" to our waiter because he was on it, sweet and nice, AND he had on that awesome vintage Yankees shirt (which he got in New Jersey 5 years ago) and I just want to say I had a shirt VERY SIMILAR when I was growing up. Though I have no current particular allegiance to The Yankees (I like both The Yankees and The Mets no matter what's happening or where they are in the running) I will say, seeing this shirt brought back good memories of evenings in The Bronx with my dad and made me like the restaurant more.

Afterwards, we ducked into the American Vintage which is on the same block but I decided I needed to get going. I was heading to Silverlake for a hair consultation (oh my God, it's out. I'm planning on cheating on my hair stylist. Did I already tell you?) and so on my way to my car I ran across this guy:

He had parked his brown Mercedes (sorry Adco, I didn't get a good picture of that and it was a very cool looking coche) and set up a tripod and started taking a video of himself dancing in front of this wall of graffiti:

Your body's on time and your mind is appealing

I asked him if he was the artist and he said no and then took off. God bless him.

Moving east towards my Consultation to Cheat Appointment in Silverlake, I had one final fantastic moment to my morning...

Saturday Morning Car Porn

While listening to "Blue Monday" - Saturdays seem to be 80's satellite radio time - I came across this particularly wonderful car and wanted to share it with you. By the way, Stir Crazy is a fun place for a cup of joe. It's on Melrose & Orange in Hollywood. It's a good writing cafe, you know what I mean? A place you can get a cup of java and plant it for awhile.

Anyway, after "Blue Monday" it was time to admit it. Morning was almost over. I was leaving the magical world and going into my day. So I put Paul's Boutique into the CD player (the mix by DJ Cheeba, DJ Moneyshot and DJ Food) and drove off to Silverlake.

Here's a link to that mix: 3 DJ Mix of Paul's Boutique. Super worth it. Great car music.

All in all, a most relaxing delicious sunny and enjoyable morning in a long while.

To recap: If you got a hankering for a really good breakfast, fresh ingredients, good service, strong and tasty coffee, trust me on this: Blu Jam Cafe. If you want to see some guy dancing in front of a great wall, go right behind the building in the alleyway of Martel, south of Melrose. If the need for good music in your car is required on a sunny Saturday, I recommend New Order's Blue Monday and the 3 DJ mix of Paul's Boutique. If you want a cup of coffee to write in your diary about your caffeine addiction, check out Stir Crazy Cafe in Hollywood.

No matter what, get in your car, open the windows, and turn on your music. It's a beautiful day.

ENJOY!

Blu Jam Cafe is located at 7371 Melrose Avenue, between Martel & Fuller. 323-951-9191. They also just opened a second location in Sherman Oaks on Ventura between Kester and Sepulveda. They're open 7 days a week, 8 - 4pm. It's my understanding they don't take reservations. Also, the head chef and co-owner, Kamil Majer, is a sommelier. There is an array of carefully selected wines and beer, for those of you who partake. Street parking available. I've never been to the Sherman Oaks location so I can't speak to that but as for the Melrose spot, don't go when you're hungry. Be prepared to wait!

Getting My East Coast Italian Fix on at Monte Carlo Market

That's Italian!

When I first came to LA I crash landed into the City of Dreams sight unseen. In truth I think I really came out here to prove to my friends I was mature enough, well-adjusted enough, to live somewhere other than New York. They were convinced that in order to get what I really wanted in terms of a career (and they thought I was way to reliant upon my family) I needed to make a bold move. So I planned it, I had it all set up. I took on a very serious demeanor. These were heady times. Which meant I talked about it for months. I was moving to LA. Me. Woody Allen in drag. I'll be there 6 months or I'll stay because I'll be an overnight success, I would say. Every day I'd spin my head around, looking at Manhattan misty-eyed. I was nostalgic with every coffee cup, Upper East Side mini dog, each punked out artist on 8th. When I'd shut my eyes from the wafting dust, dirt and germs spilling up onto the street through the grates from the subway I'd think I'm going to miss this. I had many long good-byes with friends whom I treated as though I would never, ever see again. I did reckless things too, as though this was the end I should just live it up. The time before I moved was in essence the only time anyone has ever moved from one place to another. No one had ever done anything harder or braver. I was not young and joyful and excited about conquering the world. This was something I had to do to be successful, for my art, for my craft. I'll miss you all! I'll miss you New York! I'll miss you Gray's Papaya! I'll miss you upstanding cab drivers, my soul brothers! I'll miss you smelly C train. I'll miss you COMFORT ZONE. When I was alone I looked very serious. Very sad. Like something important was underway and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. As the plane lifted off, contemplative and still, I gazed out the window and watched the island of Manhattan get smaller and smaller. Finally I had to turn away. I couldn't bear it any longer. This was a momentous occasion requiring great sacrifice. Great bravery. Godspeed, Cynthia. Godspeed.

Upon arrival I was picked up by my friend's husband and we drove on the 405 into the valley. Our stop on the way home was El Pollo Loco - he needed dinner and it was close to their house. These were sweet and generous people. They let me stay in their daughter's room who in turn slept in their room. Their house was in a section of Burbank that was close to an Ikea and the 5 freeway. Every day it was hot or raining. There were no people around. Just parked cars. When I had the guts I'd get in my rental car and drive around, trying to find something that looked normal. Looked fun. Or at least edible. I ended up spending a lot of time at that little house. This couple was super cool and super nice and maybe the best thing in this Godforsaken country. Despite their kindness, despite the fact they seemed normal, I was completely and quietly feeling rather out of my mind. As if it were a mantra, the line 6 months is a hell of a long time turned over and over in my head.

OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE??????

After one month I knew I should leave their house. Not to go back to New York. Not yet. That would be way too embarrassing. Instead I moved in with the only other person I felt comfortable around at that time. He was an acquaintance who had a cool job as a p.a. over at The Warner Brothers lot which sounded like nirvana to me. He was funny, smart and drove an old Cadillac Eldorado. He was also about to become one of my all-time best friends in the whole wide world: Adam. So down Olive I drove with my silly belongings to his place. This place. The most generic apartment complex in the world:

The nearest food was...

Remember Henry Hill (Ray Liotta) standing outside his new home in some Phoenix type suburb after he had joined The Witness Protection Program? The sun was bright. Nothing remotely pretty or with character was anywhere in sight. He explained how one night they wanted to get Italian. So they went to some nearby restaurant. He ordered pasta with marinara and they served him egg noodles with ketchup. Suddenly that scene had new meaning. I just came out here to be discovered and prove people wrong. I hadn't even killed anyone or sold really good coke. Good God will someone please tell me where's the good food at?

Luckily Adam had been here longer than I. He too was from New York, near The Bronx, was good friends with one of my closest friends in NY -- who had amazing taste; especially when it came to Italian food. I knew I could trust Adam if he said there was a good place to go and eat. In fact he had already done important reconn and knew where to take me.

One of the first important places Adam introduced me to was Monte Carlo Deli Market. Recently I found an occasion to make a return visit. Just driving up Magnolia, memories came rushing back. Good food memories. And the place hasn't changed. Not one bit.

If you like to cook, and I do, Monte Carlo has everything you need. I say this to those of you who wish they could eat at Rao's in Harlem, know what Arthur Avenue in The Bronx is, and love that scene in The Godfather when he's slicing the garlic into the olive oil to emulsify. If this resonates with you, you are my audience, you are my people and you need to check Monte Carlo out.

Monte Carlo Interior - pastas, cheeses, olive oils, Stella D'oro

Yes!

I don't even like these things but they look so right

If you're too lazy to cook, they understand.

Cheese, Meat, Love

San Marzano Tomatoes EVERYWHERE

Even The Mr. Coffee looks imported

That's the Pope next to the Chianti. As God intended.

Of course now that I've lived here for a 1000 years, Monte Carlo isn't the only Italian supermarket I go to. I've found a billion places that satisfy all my jonesing whether it be for Chinese, Indian, Peruvian, you name it. And because I know my lay of the land, sometimes where I end up going simply comes down to proximity. For instance, if I was on the West Side, I'd go to Bay Cities for imported Italian cheese, meats, olive oils. If I needed some real deal pizza, I might swing by Lamonica's in Westwood. Or if I was in The Valley, I'd pop on over to Joe Peeps on Whittsett and Magnolia. That being said, this past weekend when I was making an eggplant parm in honor of James Gandolfini, I couldn't imagine going anywhere but Monte Carlo to shop for my ingredients.

There's nothing like your first, you know? And for me, my first foray into realizing I'd be happy in Los Angeles happened right here at this place in good ole' Burbank, U.S.A.. Maybe I'm not so much like Woody Allen. Or maybe there are many sides to me. Perhaps I'm also a little like his partner, the one who's driving his Rolls down Sunset with the roof off, snapping his fingers. He really looked happy, didn't he? I don't know. But if you ever find yourself in Burbank, swing on by. It might be just be the hit you're looking for. If not, NYC is just a plane ride away. And now there's a Rao's in Vegas.

Monte Carlo Italian Deli is located at 3103 West Magnolia Blvd., Burbank, CA 91505. They're open 7 days a week. For information on hours of operation call 818-845-3516.

Buongiorno!