The Unvegan

Featured Reviews

Merging Cultures at Chino Bandido
Back to Asia with Taiwan Food Express
A Big Ass Burger at Roaring Fork
Damn Near Perfection at Tokyo Fried Chicken

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The Redcoat Tavern is Coming!

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Wait, this doesn’t seem dangerous at all.

Once upon a time, Paul Revere rode through the streets of Boston, warning all patriots by shouting, “The redcoats are coming!” These redcoats, of course, were the British soldiers and the Americans knew that danger was coming. But when Redcoat Tavern came to West Bloomfield, Michigan, the people did not sense danger. No, they embraced it. That’s because the original Redcoat Tavern in Royal Oak had been serving up some of the most delicious food in metro Detroit for years. Yet, while I embraced the branching out of Redcoat Tavern, like the Founding Fathers, I also prepared to do battle against its famous burger.

Hop to, Choppe Choppe (CLOSED)

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Apples make the world go round.

Despite the insane amount of times I have eaten in downtown Culver City, a few restaurants have still managed to elude me. And I do mean a few. Choppe Choppe is one of these restaurants. Now I can proudly say that I have, in fact, eaten their food, but I can still say that the restaurant has eluded me. Oh, the twists and turns of life when your girlfriend picks up food for you. Now, I may not know the full extent of the menu, so I can’t comment on options, but she sure does know me and picked me out something to fit perfectly into my unvegan diet.

Feeling French with Monsieur Marcel

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An extreme grilled cheese.

Situated somewhere in the middle of 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica is a place called Monsieur Marcel. It’s easy to miss if you aren’t looking, and in the countless times I have been there I had never seen it myself, at least until I was looking out specifically for it. Based on the name, you would expect Monsieur Marcel to be French, and you would be right. The menu is populated with unpronounceable dishes, but fortunately they also come with English descriptions.

The Valley Goes Gourmet with Laurel Tavern

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From here it looks like any other burger.

Gourmet burgers and their associated gastropubs have been predominantly the domain of LA’s greater west side. Father’s Office, Umami Burger, Comme Ca and The Foundry all have roots on the west-ish side. So when I heard Laurel Tavern in Studio City was not only a gastropub, but had a burger worth writing home about, I was surprised. Gourmet burger? In the wretched valley? I had to try it out. And try I did. More than once. You see, Laurel Tavern is not the easiest place to get into. Not because of some dress code or something stupid like that, but because they simply have an extremely small space. On weekends, it’s nearly impossible to get in unless you show up mid-afternoon. But when I heard some friends were going on Labor Day, I felt my odds were pretty good and I ventured out to Ventura Boulevard.

Getting All Fresh in the Box

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Don’t you be getting fresh in my box!

In the search for something light to eat after an afternoon of consuming delicious snacks at work, I found a Japanese place called Fresh in the Box in Culver City. Now let’s be realistic, who doesn’t want to get fresh…in a box? And if I told you I was going to some Asian place called Fresh in the Box, you’d probably think I was in for more than just a bite to eat. Yet, there I found myself at a pretty legit Japanese restaurant.

Frying Up the Sea at Parkers’ Lighthouse

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Ok, I guess I’ll eat fish.

Parkers’ Lighthouse in the Shoreline Village of Long Beach is not an actual lighthouse. Also surprising was the fact that during my time there I met not one person named Parker. It is, however, a seafood restaurant overlooking the beautiful Pacific Ocean. So, for the third time in just two days, I found myself staring at menu full of fish and finally I gave in.

Sinking into Hara Sushi

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It’s uh, yeah it’s sushi.

I’ve never understood the point of expensive sushi. When you get down to it, they’re all pretty much using the same ingredients with similar results. So when I ended up grabbing dinner at Hara Sushi in Santa Monica, I was a bit excited. Why? Because their sushi is always half-priced. And, they have a happy hour until 9:30 pm with some pretty cheap beers. So for once in my life, sushi sounded like a good time.

Plundering Paradise Cove

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Frequented by humans and seagulls alike.

The coastal land of Malibu is populated by celebrities attempting to avoid the real world and regular people who want to avoid the crowds of LA’s more local beaches. It’s also sparsely populated by restaurants that want nothing more than to serve a subpar meal while providing a breathtaking view. Or at least that’s how it usually goes – a great view = decent food. Hoping to avoid that trend, the Danto family brought back memories of high school and college by taking me, their son’s greatest friend of all time, to lunch. The Danto clan had chosen Paradise Cove and I was excited to find out what they had to offer.

Parking at Garage Pizza

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Where happy hour becomes meaty hour.

What’s the first thing you think about when someone tells you you’re going to a place called Garage Pizza? Flying unicorns with laser beam eyes? Doing the backstroke through a sea of sour patch gummy worms? No, you think of pizza found down a shady back alley with a haggard old man selling you a grimy looking slice of pizza out of a homemade oven built from used industrial parts. Thankfully none of those are true (despite the fact that flying unicorns with laser beam eyes are pretty sweet and totally real) and I can happily say that Garage Pizza is a legitimate, mostly haggard-free, pizza establishment.

Hustling Bricks

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I prefer my bricks customized. Also my mortar.

Given that you are taking the time to read this food post on this meat blog, I’m going to assume that you enjoy eating delicious meals with great company. We all have friends and family members with whom it is an absolute pleasure to share great meals and last night I had the special opportunity to do just that.

My friend Raffi and I bond greatly over very important things like food and football. Last night, he, his co-worker, and I went to a pizza restaurant in Chicago called Bricks. Bricks is located on a stretch on Lincoln Ave. with few other businesses and, as opposed to having a window-front, simply has an arched red awning over a staircase that leads down to the restaurant. Raffi and I are firm believers that you can judge a restaurant by its cover and even though the outside of Bricks is inconspicuous, it calls out at you and makes you think and/or say, “DAMN, this place is going to be GREAT!”

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