The Spice Table – Los Angeles, CA
You’d be hard-pressed to find a country more obsessed with food than Singapore. Eating is the national pastime and working there in 2006 gave birth to some of my fondest food memories. Lunch breaks were spent gorging on bowls of laksa, hokkien mee, and char kway teow. I developed an unhealthy obsession over Hainan Chicken Rice and tried every notable joint in the city-state (Tian Tian emerged victorious). One memorable afternoon was spent hunched over Muthu’s spicy fish head curry, slurping up all the fiddly gelatinous bits. And I still long for the Heng “carrot cake” at the Newton Food Centre, which interestingly contains no carrot at all—just shredded radish fried with egg, garlic, and ketjap manis, a thick sweet soy sauce.
Years later, I’m still not exactly sure why Singaporean food tickled my stomach and pulled at my heartstrings. Was it how the local cuisine’s Chinese, Indian, and Malay influence spoke volumes about the country’s culture? Or maybe it was because food was the country’s great equalizer. No matter how famous or popular, dishes were affordable and everyone had to stand in line.
Or perhaps it was simply because the best Singaporean food was cheap, ubiquitous, and delicious beyond description.
So it was with cautious optimism that I entered The Spice Table, Bryant Ng’s Vietnamese-Singaporean restaurant in Little Tokyo. Given Ng was Pizzeria Mozza’s chef de cuisine and also cooked at Daniel in New York, I figured the food wouldn’t be a flop; but would it inspire the same joy I experienced back in Singapore years ago? Would it be authentic? I was scared it would be Westernized beyond recognition.
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Asking me what my favorite Italian restaurant is in Los Angeles will elicit a pavlovian response: “Angelini Osteria”.
Let’s get straight to the point: I’m obsessed with Canelé’s Baked Pancake with Meyer Lemon Custard. A simple concoction of flour, eggs, sugar, milk, and too much butter, it’s so good I’ve spent the past four Sundays in a row hunched over the ethereal puffs, wondering if I’d discovered nirvana.
Some might call Craig Thornton’s obsession with food OCD. I call it passion. A document on his computer filled with menu ideas, ingredient pairings, and preparations is so long it could double as a culinary dissertation. He’s a stickler for flawless produce, scheduling his day around picking up the best meat and fish. But despite the heaps of praise his underground supper club, Wolvesmouth, has garnered, Craig simply can’t sit on his laurels. He’s always refining dishes, continually pushing himself in a never-ending quest for perfection. Is it achievable? It doesn’t matter– the process of constant refinement almost defines Wolvesmouth.
Wine bottle in one hand and cellphone in the other, I stepped out of the cab and dialed the number that was sent to me a few hours ago. A man met me at the door, escorted me up a flight of stairs, and I found myself at Wolvesmouth, Craig Thornton’s underground supper club (more details
If you find yourself on the corner of First and Beaudry, just a few blocks northwest of the Walt Disney Concert Hall in Downtown Los Angeles, you may spot a crowd huddled around a grill and a billowing tower of smoke. The smell of charred meat wafts through the air and if you’re anything like me, will inevitably find yourself in line for a late night taco. On my last visit, music was playing, an elderly couple was enjoying a quesadilla, and I overheard a teenager raving to her friend about how these were her favorite tacos in Los Angeles. I walked up to the grill, said hello, and fist bumped Javier and Esdras. They’re here every Wednesday through Saturday evening, grilling meat and serving tacos with a smile.
