Best Bread Found At Last

But there is a catch. You have to make it. But it is so easy. It is the NY Times Minimalist recipe.

I substitute 1/8 cup of olive oil for the equivalent of the water called for. It is perfect for my taste. I also have had fun mixing in other flours as an alternative. When doing this, I have found it works best if I keep the recipe pure for the first rise and use the alternative flours (rye, whole wheat, e.g.) as the flour I add in before the second rise.

I find, by the by, I have to add an ample amount of flour before the second rise, if I don't want it to stick to the towel. Yes, I use a towel rather than plastic wrap called for in the original recipe. I don't do plastic wrap generally due to the ecological and other havoc it is wreaking upon life on earth.

It is tremendously difficult to screw up this recipe. I have not managed to. If I add too little flour, and it gets sticky on the towel, it doesn't matter. I wash the towel and get a flatter, but still delicious loaf. If I add more flour, I get a denser delicious bread. All that said, two friends have reported screwing it up. One used ancient yeast that did not rise. Oops. And one used all whole wheat flour. Unless you want to build a brick house in your tum, not recommended!

Enjoy great bread in L.A. or wherever you are!

Found a good bakery (in Kauai...)

Well folks, I did find a place where one can get some good bread west of the Hudson, but the good or bad news depending on how you choose to view it is that it is in Kilauea, Kauai. Now Kilauea happens to be paradise. But it's also a little far and you can't get there from here by car alone.

Kilauea Bakery was a find my husband and I were particularly proud to have found without guidebooks or other outside advice. Perhaps I'll flatter us and think of us like homing pigeons subliminally programed to sniff out the good bread no matter where we are...We especially liked their Hawaiian Sweet Bread and their Hawaiian Sourdough made with guava juice. They went especially nicely with the outstanding local honey--not surprising that it is outstanding in a locale known as the "Garden Isle." We bought our honey at the health food store in Hanalei called Papaya's (Try this link, if that one I gave is not working). The breads were also superb with some local goat cheese that we found at the Saturday morning farmer's market in Hanalei. The goat cheese comes in several varieties, including plain, sun dried tomato, and passion fruit. My husband insists it might be the best goat cheese he's ever had, and them be mighty words for a guy who grew up surrounded by farms in Germany and who has lived in Greece, Italy, and France. The challah at Kilauea Bakery is also quite good, a bit like the Hawaiian Sweet Bread. NYC readers will be charmed or alarmed to know that the guy behind the counter shared with me that challah (the "ch" of which he pronounced like that in "chair") is a kind of Portuguese bread. I put on my best Great Neck accent to explain that challah (the "ch" of which is pronounced like a mix of the "ch" in "christamighty" and gathering spit) is actually not Portuguese, but Jewish. And possibly why they had it available on a Thursday but hadn't had it on Monday or Tuesday was because it is traditionally eaten on Friday. I was not raised religiously Jewish, but one needn't be to know this I believe, if one has lived long enough in New York City. The fellow, like almost everyone who was working at Kilauea Bakery who more often than not also had wide gaps in the information they had on hand about the bread at the bakery, was good-natured and enormously generous of spirit upon hearing the news.

Kilauea Bakery is located in the Kong Lung Center on Keneke Street in Kilauea on the North Shore. It's open 7 days a week 6:30 am-9 pm. Phone is 808-928-2020

Chowhound is awesome

For those foodies who haven't yet discovered it, I have been getting a lot of good recipe and food advice on a website called Chowhound. Check out their L.A. section here--and tell them you heard about them here!

More raves for Cake Divas

I called yesterday to ask how long the cake would last in the fridge. I was told a week, and then I was told that two weeks before our one year anniversary, we should call them and they would remake the top tier of the cake for us. And all they ask for in return is a professional photo of the wedding. The Cake Divas rock.

Cake, Catering and other Paradise Found in L.A. at last

The curmudgeon (I) was made oh so happy this weekend. And wasn't it generous of the Powers That Be to bestow this happiness at my Official Family Wedding Celebration? The Bride did not have to make the cake afterall. Cake Divas saved the day. Recommended by a friend who knows all good things, the Cake Divas were nice, they prepared (the same morning we called--no appointment needed) a luscious tasting box that this terribly busy couple thankfully could taste on the road, they use all organic ingredients (the only ones we found that did so in a non hippie, vegan, but instead gourmet appreciation of fine ingredients kind of way). They were even not far from our house! We chose the white cake with chocolate fudge frosting on two layers, and the amazing berry cream on the third layer. The outer frosting was a white butter cream. Got tons of compliments. It still is tasting good after five days in the fridge--moist, pure, yummy.
A perfect end to the thrilling meal done by Five Star Catering (no website--let me know if you want their contact info). Folks, I wish I could keep it a secret (or have them as my private cooks), but it just would be too selfish. These gentleman rock the house, hit every dish out of the ballpark, with good nature and reasonable prices to boot. One foodie at the party said it was the best catering she could remember for a party that size (sixty guests). People, myself included, were bowled over.
They got their bread, by the way, at Le Pain Quotidien, which I have had recommended to me by people for years. It was very good. We are still eating one of the loaves and the rolls 5 days later, and they are making very nice toast and hamburger buns. They get a higher vote than La Brea Bakery and Whole Foods bread, which we have normally been buying. Happy, happy, yum, yum. CORRECTION ADDED 6/19: The bakery used was NOT LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN but instead a bakery in Silverlake, which the caterer sadly tells me has just closed shop. I tried the bread at Le Pain Quotidien in Santa Monica the other day--a whole wheat sourdough and a baguette. Eh. It was okaaaay. The texture wasn't great--the usual stiff stuff I tend to get here in the Southland. The flavor was alright. They have only a few choices of bread, all dark except the baguette (and I noticed a sign for challah tucked away in the corner, but there was no bread in front of it, and it was not offered to me as a choice by the sales lady.) I'm not going to run back there.

Sweet Lady Jane's Lost Its Lustre

In an earlier post, I raved about Sweet Lady Jane bakery on Melrose. I have to take a lot of it back, alas. I tasted a white (yellow?) cake of theirs at a friend's birthday party about 5 years or so ago. I was new in town and thought it was spectacular. I had no doubts that this was where my wedding cake was going to come from. (To clarify, although my husband and I married almost a year ago, our Official Wedding Party with all the family is not until this May). Friends suggested other locales, but I was unmoved. I called to make my appointment (I was amazed I had to make an appointment, but this betrays more my relative unawareness of all things Bridal rather than anything terribly unusual at Sweet Lady Jane). The woman I was told to speak with was turse and impatient over the phone, almost off-puttingly so, but I thought she was probably just caught at a bad moment when she sounded annoyed by my mentioning that her suggestion of 10 am was a little early for us on a Saturday given that we were coming from across town, and did she perhaps have any time later. She relented and put us in at 3:30, and I was sure that I just needed a Wedding Princess attitude adjustment, and that I'd love her upon meeting, or at least I'd love her cakes.

Cut to the chase. The good news is that we were served tea and an espresso and tastes of their cakes, and we were not charged for these, even when I mentioned being perfectly willing to pay. The tea was fine. My husband reports the espresso was not, but since he is known to make waitresses in L.A. want to cry with his espresso standards, I won't hold this against them too much. The table we were seated at had a sign that instructed a 3 person minimum and a $6 minimum per person at this table, so the special treatment was particularly notable. The rule-sy signage at the cafe-sy place, though, was questionable. The selection of cakes in their catalogue were lovely, many downright gorgeous. No ridiculous, utterly impractical design ideas like on some wedding cake websites, and the kind of artistry that makes one think a style looks classic rather than hackneyed. The person we met with was obviously very bright and not giving us a hard sell, which I appreciated. She was straight up business, which is a style I happen to like. When she brought the cake tastes to us on a plate, however, and I put a morsel in my mouth with my fingers and my husband used his espresso spoon, she grabbed forks from the next table and handed them to us, saying "These are called forks." I wasn't sure if she was being condescending or funny. I was willing to believe the latter, but my husband thought it was the former. The critical bad news is that the cakes are, well, not spectacular. Don't get me wrong. They don't taste awful or anything. But we weren't wowed by any of them. And at prices that would start at 7 dollars per person plus delivery, we needed to be wowed. We tried the lemon curd, the coconut, the Italian Wedding cake, the Old Fashioned Chocolate, and the Chocolate Blackout Fudge. We had requested the White Chocolate Lemon, but it didn't arrive, and by the end of our tasting, we were non-plussed enough to not push the issue. The Italian wedding cake and the lemon curd were the best of the bunch, and the old-fashioned chocolate was not bad, but they were all too sweet and all of them lacked a complexity and nuance of flavor that we think makes a cake great rather than just alright. By the time we reached the car, my mere 10 small bites of cake were going straight to my head and not in a good way. It might have been partly the smog of the hot West Hollywood afternoon, but I felt pretty darn crappy, full of blah, sugar rush and headache. I bought some water at a nearby shop, which helped, and which I mention only as a means of unburdening my guilt for having absent mindedly and embarassingly left at Sweet Lady Jane the bottle of water that I absent-mindedly and embarassingly brought in with me. And now I am saying bad things about their cakes. But wait, I just remembered what happened when we got home. I don't feel sooo guilty come to think of it. Shortly after we returned from our mission, my husband whose constitution is far stronger than mine--let's put it this way, he lived in Nigeria without much fuss--had let's put it this way, an interesting time on the toilet.
It's my belief from experience that most often a dessert, if made from the finest ingredients (and at the risk of sounding woo woo, made with good vibes), doesn't make me feel bad. I might feel a bit of a buzz or like I haven't necessarily just had a health drink, but not downright icky.
We're thinking of making our own wedding cake...When in L.A....Sigh.

History of Chinese Food in L.A.

Check this article out in the L.A. Times, especially those of you who say there is no such thing as good Chinese food in Los Angeles.

L.A. Foodie Blog

All Kinds Of Yum is a neat blog about all things food in L.A., especially Fairfax and East. Check it out. And thanks Julie!

Even More Chinese Food

Leave it to the New York Times to hone in on good Chinese food in Los Angeles. I find it fascinating that the writer takes the opposite stance I usually hear from New Yorkers that there is no good Chinese food in L.A. (I've found it's usually the first complaint when the discussion turns culinary.) Since the Times' articles over time often become unavailable to non-paying customers, I am taking the liberty of copying the article below for posterity. To see the original while it lasts, go here. (By the way, none of the ones I have covered are listed, and let's face it, the areas the article covers are considered by most to be the real Chinatowns of SoCal.)

by Mark Bittman
Published: December 3, 2006
THERE are probably more Chinese in Los Angeles than in any metropolitan area outside of China. (The same very likely could be said of Mexicans, Iranians, Koreans, Japanese and more, which is what makes Los Angeles the best international eating city in the world.) Fifty years ago, most Chinese immigrants were concentrated in a typical downtown Chinatown, which still exists, but more as a relic than a vibrant community. In the last few decades, in typical Southern California fashion, the Chinese have claimed a freeway. It is the portion of I-10 known as the San Bernardino Freeway. This road runs through the San Gabriel Valley, straight east from downtown, all the way to Jacksonville, Fla. (to the west, it runs only 10 miles, to Santa Monica). And for its first 50 miles or so, from Los Angeles to San Bernardino, it is a modern-day Chinatown, a string of multiethnic communities that all have a large, dynamic Chinese population. There is strong evidence of this in the chains of Chinese supermarkets, the likes of which exist nowhere else in the country. (In these stores, announcements are made first in Mandarin, then in Korean, then Vietnamese; then Spanish, and last English. Really.)

There is equally strong evidence in the restaurants of Alhambra, San Gabriel, Monterey Park and other nearby communities. Before World War II, this was an area of horse farms, orange groves and the like. Now it looks like every other new, freeway-oriented section in the parts of the country that have been overdeveloped in the last 20 years.

Yet these places are not without charm. You can see it on the Main Street of Alhambra, where you will, if you follow my advice, drop everything, and rush to eat at Triumphal Palace. (Don’t you love this? “Honey, let’s go to Alhambra and eat at the Triumphal Palace.”)

The restaurant follows in the tradition of popular places such as NBC Seafood, Mission 261 — about which, more in a moment — and the ill-named New Concept. Their menus are large and long — several pages, at least — and often feature esoteric and very expensive ingredients such as abalone, shark’s fin and bird’s nest.

For my money — and though it’s upscale by comparison, it doesn’t take much — Triumphal Palace is the best of the lot, with food that is full-flavored, intricate and subtle, sometimes almost tame. The roast duck, which looks like every other Chinese roast duck you’ve ever had, is so good I suspect it’s not “roast” at all, but fried in clarified butter; it’s that crisp, tender and flavorful. It needs nothing, and certainly not the accompanying marmalade-like substance, which you should not allow to touch the duck. Other dishes are similarly simple, and just about as good: stir-fried Dungeness crab with scallion and ginger; pea greens with mushrooms and the distinctively flavored dried scallops; a pretty dish of chicken slices, huge shiitakes, ham and gai lan (Chinese broccoli), served in layers.

For all of this, Triumphal Palace is perhaps better known for its dim sum (served every day at lunchtime) than for its dinner dishes. Like many of the grand West Coast Chinese restaurants, from Vancouver on south, the dim sum is ordered from a menu — you’re invariably given a short pencil and a printed sheet, to tick off what you want — cooked fresh and served hot, rather than being hawked from steam carts. (Still, the problem of everything coming at once can only be solved by staggering your order.)

Six of us — one of whom now claims she will be married here — shared 24 dishes (about 18 of which came within 10 minutes), and while all except the predictably sad desserts were good, some were incredible. These were barbecue pork belly, firm cubes of slow-cooked, crunchy-skinned fresh bacon that, I swear, were a dead-on replica of a dish Alain Ducasse used to serve at about five times the price; Chiu Chow-style dumplings, with thick, chewy, slightly crisp rice-flour exteriors filled with (could it be?) jasmine-scented meat; deep-fried carrot cake, in fact a savory-sweet custard-filled dumpling; boiled baby bok choy in fish stock, which, like the duck I’d had at dinner, contained some secret ingredient that was the Bomb; and a wonderful layered creation of pan-fried sticky rice with egg.

On a recent Sunday morning, the place was packed, as usual. The design is faux Deco-slash-modern, not horrible, but with the inevitable stark lighting. Still, the walls are of wood, there are tablecloths, and the chairs are padded and comfortable. At dinner the napkins are cloth, and the plates are changed frequently.

Triumphal Palace has taken the place of Mission 261 as My New Favorite Restaurant, but the latter — in an adobe complex, at least some of which was the city hall of the (no sarcasm here) lovely center of San Gabriel — has a couple of astonishing advantages. First off, it may be the best-looking Chinese restaurant in the country, with its whitewashed walls, oak-beamed ceilings and internal courtyard. Second, you can enjoy your dim sum alfresco, and to sit outside on a sunny Sunday morning eating two dozen spicy, high-quality little dishes is about as close to paradise as I’ve been.

And if it is not quite up to the currently high level of the dim sum served at Triumphal Palace, it remains very, very good. What I found disappointing at Mission 261 was dinner, which had fallen a long way from its own lofty standards of just a couple of years ago. Still, the shrimp with scrambled eggs, the steamed fish, the braised pork — these remain winners.

Sadly, it seems that almost all of the large, fancy Chinese restaurants east of Los Angeles start out with a bang and then taper off toward mediocrity. With the smaller, less ambitious, perhaps more regionally loyal places, consistency is more predictable. This is certainly the case with Chung King, an unlikely dive on Garfield, one of the more important through streets in Monterey Park.

I’ve been a semi-regular here for about five years. The food is strictly Sichuan (Chungking is the largest city in Sichuan Province) and, honestly, it puts just about every other Sichuan restaurant in the United States that I’m familiar with to shame. You know how some Chinese restaurants have little chili symbols next to the hot dishes? Every dish in the entire first column of the menu here, with — literally — one exception, has a little chili symbol next to it. Fully half the dishes are blazingly hot — they must go through a coffee-sack of dried peppers daily — but tamed by the mouth-numbing sensation of floral-scented Sichuan peppercorns. This is a mind-body experience not to be missed: your body, abused with chilies, is crying “Please stop,” while your mind, entranced by the incredible flavors, keeps directing the chopsticks from plate or bowl to mouth and back again.

I’d go here with four or six people, so you can order a variety of dishes (ignore the steam table set up in the back unless you’re trying to spend less than five bucks): the brick-red boiled pork in hot sauce (oh, boy), fried chicken with hot pepper (do not make the mistake of ordering chicken with chili and peanuts, which is more the standard kung pao), fish slices in small pot (“only” an 8 on the 10-scale of heat), and maybe something tame like one of the great rice-crust dishes, which are essentially mild stir-fries served on freshly made rice cakes.

Non-Chinese speakers may have a problem here (even the English “expert” has trouble), but among the other customers are certain to be plenty of fluent Chinese-and-English speakers, willing to help. At least that’s how I’ve gotten by. (Note that it is cash only, though it would be hard to spend more than $20 a person anyway.)

Chang’s Garden, a little farther east and nestled right under the mountains in scenic Arcadia, is not quite as ugly as some of the other little joints around, but it’s ordinary-looking enough and, like so many restaurants in Los Angeles, it’s in a strip mall. I was steered here by my friend and sometime-guide Carl Chu, who knows more about Chinese restaurants in America than anyone, and whose “Chinese Food Finder: Los Angeles and the San Gabriel Valley” is indispensable for the adventuresome eater.

The food at Chang’s Garden is Shanghai style, which means often quite sweet and usually quite fatty; the sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaf, for example, has a nicely braised rib tucked inside the pocket of rice; the scallion bread is as crisp and greasy as a slice of good pizza; pork lacquered with brown sauce is almost but not quite sticky-sweet — in fact it’s nicely balanced.

But some dishes show the subtler, more sophisticated side of Shanghai cuisine: I especially liked the mildly delicious shrimp in tea leaves, and the fish chowder — I’m quite sure the broth was made from meat, unless there’s some especially meaty fish out there I don’t know about — with loads of fish meat, egg and scallion.

Finally, there’s Foo Chow, in the original downtown Chinatown, one of the few Chinese places left in Los Angeles proper that won’t make you want to hop in your car and head east to Alhambra. Jackie Chan’s “Rush Hour” was filmed here, but clearly with help from a brilliant set designer, because the place is, well, a dump. However, it’s inexpensive almost beyond belief, and it boasts the most cosmopolitan crowd I’ve ever seen in a Chinese restaurant. Furthermore, there are some dishes here you won’t have elsewhere, especially the selection of creations made with red wine sauce (the wine is a kind of rice mash); while the chicken in red wine won’t make you forget coq au vin, it is delicious, though it cannot vie for a second with the fried eel, which is first marinated in red wine and then deep fried; it’s irresistible.

Perhaps I’m not lavishing enough praise on these places in general; when in Los Angeles, I tend to forget that the average Chinese food here is better than the best Chinese food in 90 percent of the rest of the country. So if not every dish in a given restaurant is a winner, I feel as disappointed as I would if Ferran Adrià let me down. But come here, get in the car, drive out the freeway, and start eating; the occasional disappointment will be overwhelmed by the frequent ecstasy.

VISITOR INFORMATION All restaurants are open daily.

500 West Main Street, Alhambra; (626) 308-3222. Dim sum about $15 per person; dinner $25 to $30 per person.

Mission 261
261 South Mission Drive, San Gabriel; (626) 588-1666. Dim sum about $15 per person; dinner $25 to $30 per person.

Chang’s Garden
627 West Duarte Road, Arcadia; (626) 445-0606. About $20 per person.

Chung King
206 South Garfield Avenue, Monterey Park; (626) 280-7430. Cash only; $15 to $20 per person.

Foo Chow
949 North Hill Street, (213) 485-1294. About $15 per person.

Doughnuts

According to the LA Times, doughnuts have had an haute cuisine makeover in Beverly Hills. Were they spelled "donuts" before? The article also claims that cupcakes are all the rage these days here in the Southland. Where? Has anyone graced any of these supposed cupcake eateries?

More Chinese Food

I was taken to lunch at The New Moon at 107 W. 9th Street downtown (no not Greenwich Village...downtown Los Angeles), and it was quite good! The decor was clean and hip, the food ranging from not bad to excellent, the prices easy. I especially recommend the eggplant dish. Not a huge eggplant fan, but was trying to make nice with the person treating me who insisted on the dish's excellence, and dang if she wasn't right. Smooth, great flavor, a big hit. The chow fun wasn't as good as Mao's (see previous post), but the chicken and shrimp dishes were slam dunks. And the service was friendly...and fast.

There is another location in Montrose at 2138 Verdugo Blvd.

More Late Night Eats

From today's Los Angeles Times, an article all about it...

Spankin' Shoe Sighting

(Photo courtesy of mjlamble on flickr)




Lan Bui wore these last night to Halloween Vlogfest 2006. (Thank you Yahoo, Zadi and Steve, and others for making this event happen and Lan for letting me know about it!) Lan got these purple, snakeskin pearls in the Southland shoe desert at Ross in Orange County! Who woulda thunk it?

Language Lessons 3: In search of an alternative to the bread in the fridge

I was craving an alternative to toast for this Sunday morning's breakfast, since the bread we have in the fridge, Whole Food's Organic Miche, I find to be sort of heavy and dull.

HUSBAND: What do you want for breakfast?
ME: I was thinking about pancakes. Too bad we didn’t get any fresh eggs at the market yesterday.
HUSBAND: You want me to organize you some eggs?
ME: Organize me some eggs?
HUSBAND: Yeah.
ME: Is that how you say it in German? Organize me some eggs?
HUSBAND: Yeah, well, sort of. I mean, you don’t really say it like that, but you can.
ME: You can or you don't, which is it?
HUSBAND: Well, you can if you’re inspirated.
ME: Inspirated?
HUSBAND: Yeah. Inspirated.
ME: Inspirated.
HUSBAND: Creative with the language. Like thief language. I’m going to go organize me some eggs, it’s like let’s go steal some eggs from the farmer.
ME: Do you feel like driving and parking?
HUSBAND: No, not really, but I will do for you.

We ended up having toast. Sometimes in L.A., even when the bread is not that good, as in life, simplicity trumps other pleasures.

Language Lessons 2: Public Servants in L.A. vs. NY

The Language Lessons series used to be on my first blog dianemoss.blogspot.com. This is for all you foreign nationals out there and the folks who love 'em...

Commenting on the sharpness of my elbows in bed this morning, my German husband said:

Husband: You're like the exterminator.
Me: I kill roaches?
Husband: No, like Schwarzenegger.
Me: Ooh. The Terminator.
Husband: Oh...well, no, he's no longer the Terminator. Soo, he's the exterminator. Like an exboyfriend, he's the exterminator. I'm not bad, eh?

In search of practical yet stylish shoes....

This one is mostly for the girlies, I'd say. I saw, and better yet, tried on some very comfy, cute clogs at my friend's house the other day, and she told me they came from Clogmasters. They had quite a bit more style and origninality than the samples on the website. Am I telling you about the store that has dozens of great, practical, cutting edge style shoes, many of which are on sale, as I saw when I was in downtown New York last week? No. But hey, it's a step!

Late Night L.A. Eats

When I first arrived in L.A. after years in New York, one of the biggest shocks came after a performance of mine one night. A few friends gathered about to do the ritual congrats, and I expected, like an April flower expects rain, like a first introduction expects a handshake, like a lit candle expects to melt that we would go out for a bite after. Tis the custom in New York, where I'd been a performer for quite some time. Nope. Too late, moaned one. It was just after 9. Already ate said another apologetically. At what time, like 6?? Ok for a mother of 3 or something, but these were other performers! I couldn't wrap my head around it. Then came the second shock. My boyfriend at the time, a Roman whose habits and love made him game for joining at least, and I set out to find a place to eat, and we couldn't find a thing open. I didn't have a place with a kitchen yet, so buying groceries was out. Back home in Manhattan, there would be dozens of places to choose from (not to mention about the same number of friends who would join as dinner companions). Many a night like these in various parts of town helped me develop a favorite list of late night Eateries.

1. Mao's Kitchen. See the Chinese food posting for details. We discovered Mao's that night mentioned above.










2. Kate Mantalini's
9101 Wilshire Blvd. (near Doheny Dr.), Beverly Hills CA; Tel. 310.278.3699
I've had dinner there until midnight.














3. Toi
There's one in Santa Monica and one in Hollywood on Sunset. Kooky Rock n Roll decor, decent food and open every day from 11am-3am.


















4. Swingers
One in Santa Monica, one in West Hollywood. Open 6:30am-4am every day.












There is always also something open in Silverlake.

Of course there are others (like Canter's!! Which is better for entertaining abuse and nostalgia than food, but then again, I haven't really been into a pastrami sandwich since I lost all my baby teeth, so I am not the best judge), but that's my short list for East, West, and in between.

Time Differences: Beyond EST-PST

There are several ways in which time differences manifest themselves in Los Angeles vs. New York, other than the former being 3 hours earlier. Here are some to perhaps adjust to.

One of the obvious and most cliched is time it takes to get places. For those in the outer boroughs who drive, you may be accustomed to long commutes. However, once in Manhattan, you can buzz about to a lot of places by foot or public transportation, in an average of 10-30 minutes. In Los Angeles, a short distance is within 20 minutes by car. Average is 45 minutes. A long distance is an hour or an hour and a half plus. This has a significant effect on social and cultural life in Los Angeles. With much more planning and time needed, both happen less.

Another time difference in Los Angeles, I have found, is the hour that people think it is ok to call you, especially on weekends. While lying in bed with my husband in Manhattan yesterday, a lovely Sunday late morning, I was taking in the bliss of the first respite from the noise that has been a constant all week downstairs on East 19th Street, where we are staying. I explained to him that this rare pool of calm is one of the reasons why there is an unwritten rule in New York City, in my experience anyway, that calling before noon on Sundays is a no no. The same can be said about 11ish on Saturdays, and before 9ish on weekdays unless the party being called is known to work at night, in which case weekend hours apply. Exceptions are if the two parties (the caller and the callee) have a morning appointment, if it is totally acknowledged public information that the party being called is the rare NYC early morning person (better find out first), or if it is an emergency (a real emergency--not my boss, lover, mother, neighbor, etc. is such an idiot, can I tell you for the eighth time why they are such an idiot, from my cell phone while I am stuck in traffic, a problem which I found some Los Angeles colleagues to mistake for an emergency). I was stunned when I first moved to Los Angeles when a few (not just one) new friends called at 7:30 in the morning as a habit, even on weekends, as though it was totally normal. Want to go for a hike? No. Can I just talk for a few minutes, I really need to talk? No.

I have not adjusted--I have made people adjust to me, and have turned off my ringer and set my phone volume on low. A normally very social, communicative correspondent, I have had to do it to stay sane.

In New York, time is marked by seasons. In Los Angeles, while yes, there are subtle fluctuations in light and temperature, and many Los Angelenos don mittens and warm boots in January in a weird display of climate confusion, and the last couple years the City of Angels has gotten a bit chilly in winter, let's be real, it's about 70 and sunny somewhere in the L.A. basin, if you get in the sun, just about every day of every year. I missed the warm sun when I moved from LA as a child to the east coast. As an adult many years later in L.A., I miss the permission to change my mood and pace throughout the year. I don't think one is better than the other, I think it's more about pros and cons and individual taste. However, they's about the same as apples and oranges.

Transplant Homesickness Remedy: A True Story

The other night I attended a dear friend's wedding in Hunter up in the Catskills. It was Labor Day weekend and pouring cats and dogs (more like elephants and rhinoceruses, it was very wet). The wedding of 2-3 hundred guests took place outdoors in a tent with grass as the flooring, and many shoes were sacrificed. Forewarned about the storm and the circumstances, I made the the fashion forward choice of Ugg Boots and couture silk suit. It cost me howls of laughter from my husband who tried to disguise the humiliation he was trying to inflict with words like "cute", but earned me respect an hour later when his Italian leather shoes were soaked to the soles.

As the sweet celebration wound down, probably earlier than otherwise would have happened due to the weather, I put some mental puzzle pieces together to recognize a woman whose tiny studio I had sublet the summer before, but whom I had never personally met. She was So embarassed because of the mice that had accompanied me on my sublet. She swore it had never happened before, this mouse issue, and I should confirm it with my friend, she would know. I played it down as no big deal, but my husband and I have for a year referred to that apartment squeamishly as "The Mouse House." Not that I don't think mice are cute. I have even attained infamy by rescuing a domestic rat in New York and taking it in as a pet. It was just very close quarters in that tiny studio, and the mice made noise and went in my clothes and food, and that crossed some kind of line for me. She apologized again and again, offering an explanation that the mice came due to some construction that was happening and must have only been there when I was there because they were gone when she was back from her tour. I quipped, "Oh, so they are refugees."
She replied ingenuously, "Wait...are you talking about that guy who brought anthrax into the building? I'm talking about the mice."
"Refugees from the construction...," I said, assuring her I was talking about the mice, but what was that about anthrax...?
She explained that some refugee had come from a foreign country and had brought anthrax into her tiny 4 floor walkup in the Village, giving everyone a good scare. I am glad I didn't know about it, as it would have given me a good scare, too.
Do those of you who have been feeling homesick feel a little better now?

NYC souvenir

This is the kind of souvenir I wouldn't even have thought of as a souvenir, the kind of thing that I take for granted in NYC, and then I see it and go, "Oh yeah..."