The Unvegan

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A Touch of Canada at The Kroft
The Best of 2015
Duluth Grill’s Rolled Flank Steak
A Torta at Tortugas

Being Green at Pasta Jay’s

So bright.
So bright.

In Boulder (and a couple other places) there is an Italian restaurant that goes by the name of Pasta Jay’s. While Jay is not a very Italian-sounding name, we nonetheless found ourselves eating there in our short trip to Boulder. Like many other Italian places, it had a pretty extensive menu filled with pizzas and pastas, but I wound up keeping myself in the pasta game. After all, the place wasn’t called Pizza Jay’s.

Chowing Down at Chautauqua

I'm sure this is what they envisioned in the 1800s.
I’m sure this is what they envisioned in the 1800s.

Chautauquas are a weird thing. Apparently they were some sort of bizarre adult education/cult thing that got really popular in the late 1800s and early 1900s, starting out in Western New York and reaching at least as far as Boulder, Colorado. It was in that Chautauqua in Boulder that I spent a weekend and ate a majority of my meals in the dining hall. Never fear, though, this dining hall is open to the public so this review is still relevant.

Meat District Co. is the Place for Me

I feel brie.
I feel brie.

There are few places that invite unvegans in with open arms simply based on their names. Meat District Co. in Pasadena is clearly one of those places. With a menu consisting of meat products like bone marrow (which, shit, they were out of), burgers, ribs and steaks (plus something called the Meat Hook), I knew the hardest part of the meal would be deciding what delicious-looking thing to eat.

Classic Pasadena at Pie ‘n Burger

What's in a name?
What’s in a name?

Along with The Apple Pan over in West LA, Pie ‘n Burger is renowned for not only having delicious burgers, but for having seemingly not changed at all in its 50+ years of life. Sure, there are a lot of classic burger spots around, but they have all had tweaks here and there as owners have been exchanged, neighborhood demographics have changed or competition has increased. At Pie ‘n Burger, the only noticeable difference is the price.

Jazzed Up at Jitlada

A Thai burger.
A Thai burger.

Few restaurants have been on my to-eat list longer than Jitlada, a Thai spot in the middle of Thai Town (which itself is kind of in the middle of Hollywood). The original plan was just to meet a couple of friends for some authentic eats, but we ended up biting off a lot more than we had planned for. You see, throughout the evening we had sporadic, then more significant conversations with Jazz, the woman (and Iron Chef competitor) behind the whole place.

Boning Ribs at Bone Daddy’s House of Smoke

Oh hello Dallas.
Oh hello Dallas.

I once swore I would never return to Dallas. That’s because I went for a weekend and it snowed and the whole city shut down. Plus I was coming from Michigan and hoping for, like, good weather. Alas, I was unable to keep that promise and recently returned, swearing I would eat some good BBQ before leaving. Thus, I found myself at Bone Daddy’s House of Smoke, which would never top any lists of the best spots in Dallas, but was close by and traffic in Dallas is stupid.

Copying Success at Blaze Pizza

Blazey blaze.
Blazey blaze.

Once upon a time, a little place called 800 Degrees decided it could redefine fast-food pizza. Needless to say, it was a success. And that success inevitably led to copycats like Blaze Pizza. Surely this is not a bad thing in general because it will ultimately lead to better or more affordable food, but in the short-run I set out to see if Blaze could deliver (figuratively, of course).

A Dry Meal at Good Girl Dinette

Banh for mi.
Banh for mi.

Not too long ago, Vietnamese food suddenly became cool. At first everyone was probably like, “What the shit are pho and banh mi and how do you pronounce these things?” but now they’re all like, “It’s pronounced ‘fuh,’ idiot.” Somewhere in the middle of all this, Good Girl Dinette appeared in the formerly sketchy turned contentiously gentrifying neighborhood of Highland Park. Yes, just like every other damn city, LA has a Highland Park of its own.

Falling Off the Bone at Grassroots

Oh there's the meat.
Oh there’s the meat.

When you name a restaurant Grassroots, you have to assume that meat lovers will be fearful. Aside from awesome 60s music, the name evokes a hippy dippy vegan spot. Yet, it is anything but. Sure, this Scottsdale spot caters to the veggie-loving crowd, but it caters to unvegans no less so. Plus, let’s not forget that it does harken to the 60s music crowd.

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