EDIT: This review is of the original. The new Salt’s Cure is apparently bigger and better. We shall see…oh yes…we shall see.

My continued quest for amazing burgers took me to a place called Salt’s Cure in West Hollywood. At this particular intersection, only one of the corners lacks burgers, as the other two are populated by Fatburger and Astro Burger. And while Salt’s Cure isn’t strictly a burger place, a quick look at the high priced menu on the wall when I walked in all but guaranteed I would be eating their burger.

We began by ordering one of their homemade pretzels and a plate of cheese and meat to join it. We went with all three cheeses on the menu, two of which were creamy and the third was blue-ish. As for the meat, we chose the pork shoulder, which turned out to be prepared as a cured meat dish. Not exactly the pork shoulder I was accustomed to seeing, but it certainly fit the bill of the restaurant. These were also served with homemade bread sticks (the crunchy sort), homemade raisin bread, plus some walnuts, raisins and a fruity jam. Basically, it was an awesome spread, except for one thing – pickles. Never before had I seen pickles on a cheese plate and I hope to never see them again. These unwanted veggies ruined at least two slices of bread with their juices (fortunately the fiancee ate those) and generally turned the assortment ugly. Luckily, the cheeses were delicious, as cheese tends to be, and the pork shoulder was also quite stellar. It wasn’t overly salty or seasoned, but cured in a way that released the natural flavor of the piggy in a really delicious manner.

As for the main course, I went with their Bacon Cheeseburger. At 17 bucks, this clocked in as the cheapest entree and was topped with lettuce and onion, with a side of homemade fries. I ordered mine without the lettuce and onion, and was pretty surprised when the burger arrived and wasn’t the size of my head. Not that the thing was small, but for some crazy reason I still associate price with size. I guess I’m just old fashioned like that. The burger was topped with one thick slice of bacon and the white cheddar cheese was oozing down the sides of the guy. I must admit that the burger was quite thick and had been perfectly shaped to fit the upscale poppy seed bun.

As far as the taste breakdown, the burger was definitely awesome. The cheese and bacon were both of the highest quality and flavor. The meat itself had been cooked to more of a medium than medium rare, but was still impeccably juicy. So juicy in fact that I feared for the life of the bun. Fortunately, these fears were unfounded, as the bun held up strong against the onslaught of burger juice. The meat also had a nice, thick grind to it and had clearly been pressed into a perfectly round shape. I’m always torn when places do this. I know it makes the burger easier to cook and fit into a bun, but it also sometimes makes me feel as though the burger had been sitting in the back for a while rather than being made just for me. Nonetheless, the burger was great.

Then there were the fries. Quite often, homemade fries wind up in strange sizes and uneven cooking (likely due to the strange sizes). As opposed to the burgers, it seems to be better to have uniformity to fries. At Salt’s Cure, though, the fries were nicely sliced into crunchy-on-the-outside and soft-on-the-inside pieces. This made me a happy man, and they also lived up to their name by seasoning the fries with just the right amount of salt.

The burger at Salt’s Cure was definitely one worth having. I loved the place’s stress on doing things in-house or local, but they were not without flaw. For one, their menu was incredibly limited. Sure, the meaty options were there, but seriously there were only like 5 entrees and the burger was the only one under 25 bucks. And that brings me to my next issue. Yes, the burger was delicious, but $17 delicious? Not quite. It was absolutely worth the visit, I’m just struggling with finding a reason to go back.

Well, it’s that wonderful time of the year again – dineLA’s Restaurant Week. Yes, it’s the time of the year where I spend too much, eat too much, and still feel happy about it. Unless, of course, I’m eating at Katana. This time around, we went with a couple friends to Palihouse in West Hollywood. I’d been to Palihouse once before, late at night when it was trying to be a bar/club. It’s also a hotel. But on this night, it was simply a restaurant to us.

While most dineLA restaurants opt for the typical 3-course meal, Palihouse diverges a bit from the path. Instead of separate appetizers and main courses, they offer a range of options and you get to choose three of them. They also throw a dessert in, so it appears to be money well-spent.

Yet, despite the array of choices, only a couple fit into an unvegan diet. The first was the Steak Frites, the second was the Chicken Apricot Pot Pie and the final one was the Pork and Truffle Pate. I’m not much of a pate guy, so I had to get a little creative for my third choice. The one that looked the best was actually something I could never see myself ordering – Caesar Salad. But wait, before you chastise me, let me tell you that this salad comes with chicken nuggets, bacon and a poached egg. I asked the waiter if I could order the salad without the “salad” part and he said it wasn’t possible. Damn it all. But then he went on to tell me that it was a pretty manly salad. Challenge accepted! I am nothing if not a man willing to try things. And try I did. The nuggets were home made and didn’t even resemble their distant cousins from Happy Meals. The bacon and poached egg were equally delicious. The cheese that came with the salad also added a nice touch. It wasn’t just some shredded parmesan, but crispy and delicious. The same could not be said for the lettuce itself, which I found wholly unnecessary. While it may have been a pretty manly salad (and I give Palihouse credit for making salad interesting), it would have just been so much better without that damn lettuce.

But onto other things, namely the Chicken Apricot Pot Pie. This thing was exactly what it sounded like, except with a few peas and carrots thrown in to make me uncomfortable. Yet, despite these veggie inclusions, the pot pie was awesome. The crust was perfectly flaky and absorbed the juices of the pie quite nicely. The apricot contributed a unique flavor to the mix, which slightly sweetened things up and added a bit of tartness. It was the kind of unique dish that dineLA is made for, because I probably would not have ordinarily ordered it when I could have the…

…Steak Frites instead. This thing was a 6 oz. hanger steak, topped with chimichurri butter and a petite salad. And, as a bonus (because the weren’t listed on the menu), it also came with fries. The salad had fortunately been relegated into its own bowl and I didn’t have to deal with it. I’d ordered this at a medium rare and it came out cooked perfectly. Although the hanger isn’t typically the best cut of steak, this one had some great flavor and was quite tender. The chimichurri butter was a nice touch and added some good flavor as well, but like I said, the steak itself tasted surprisingly good on its own. The bonus fries were a great side, nice and crispy.

Finally, there were the desserts. Our choices were House Made Oreo Cookies or the Chocolate Muffin, if you are a cookie fan, you might  want to check this holiday cookie delivery service. The four of us ordered two of each to share and they turned out to be pretty unique. The oreos were elongated and came with a strawberry milkshake for dipping or simply drinking. This was definitely my favorite of the two desserts, as I loved the shake and cream filling. The cookie part itself was a bit rich for me, but nothing compared to how rich the chocolate muffin was. To call it a muffin is really a misnomer, as it was really a pile of chocolate cake in a bowl. It came with a carmelized banana, walnuts and banana ice cream and after a few bites, I was done for.

Palihouse turned out to be a better dineLA meal than I had expected. While the menu could have used more unvegan options, those that fit the bill were quite good. And the one that didn’t fit the bill was at least a nice attempt. I am not really in a position to judge the dessert because I’m not much of a dessert person. However, if they toned down the richness, I think they could have made the desserts more accessible to people like me. Having tried a fair amount of their menu now, I’m not sure that I feel the need to return to Palihouse, but I definitely recommend it for anyone looking to mix things up during Restaurant Week.

After a long day of repenting and fasting, I needed a good Jewish meal to remind my body and mind what eating felt like. Since we were attending a comedy show later that night at The Laugh Factory, we decided to go to an ancient little deli next door called Greenblatt’s. And when I say ancient, I meant it’s been there since 1926. That means when my grandma was living in LA in the late ’40s, it was already old and she remembers its existence. To survive for 85 years anywhere, let a lone a big city where change is the only contant is quite impressive. I was eager to find out what kept Greenblatt’s ticking and to satiate my fully empty stomach.

We waited about 10 minutes for table, as we were clearly not the only Jews who thought Greenblatt’s would be a good break fast meal. Once seated, it was only a matter of time until I found the meatiest, awesomest-looking sandwich. It was the #5 combo – a triple decker filled with hot pastrami, corned beef, swiss cheese, twice baked rye, Russian dressing and cole slaw. I got mine slaw-less and it also came with a side choice and I went with kettle chips.

Soon enough, the sandwich was brought out by our friendly waitress, piled on high with kettle chips. Off to the side, though, there was an ominous pickle that I moved over to the girlfriend’s plate as soon as I could get a picture off. It was not worth the risk of allowing dastardly pickle juice to ruin my break fast. Once vacated, the sandwich was ready for devourment. It was nothing short of delicious. The corned beef was juicy and beefy, while the pastrami was well-seasoned and similarly juicy. And while these were good, the bread was actually quite amazing. It had just the right texture to keep the sandwich together, which was no small feat, and the crust was about as perfect as you can get. It was crispy, but didn’t give up a huge fight before succumbing to my teeth. And speaking of succumbing to my teeth, the sandwich was monstrously tall, requiring two full bites to get through and perfectly meaty.

It’s pretty clear why Greenblatt’s has survived for so long. They have some pretty great meats and although they don’t quite reach Langer’s levels, they were certainly worthy of revisiting, whether to break the fast or otherwise.

EDIT: I haven’t been back since they moved into a real place, but the experience here was so special I’m not sure it’s worth it.

You make a call and show up in a back alley 45 minutes later. When you arrive, your guy comes out carrying about five pounds worth. You hand him your cash, then take your purchase wherever you want and inhale it. If this sounds like a drug deal to you, get your mind out of the gutter. Unless your drug is pizza, in which case you should head to this back alley in West Hollywood immediately. This is the way it works for Hollywood Pies, the sketchiest pizza place in LA you’ve never been to. You may have eaten their pizza, and you may have even picked up their pizza, but you have never been there because there is no “there.”

Two food-loving friends and I converged upon the back alley of Hollywood Pies last night to get a taste of their Chicago-style pizza and to experience one of the most unique food purveying concepts ever devised. Joel had called in our orders in advance because there was a 45-90 minute waiting time for these Chicago-style pizzas. 45 minutes is actually the minimum amount of time I have ever waited for a pizza in this style, which is almost a casserole in style. Many pizzas were named after old Chicago gangsters, which only helped perpetuate the feeling that we were somehow involved in an illicit activity while waiting for our pizzas. Joel and I split a large Capone, which consisted of whole milk mozzarella, mild Italian sausage, margherita pepperoni and house-made Italian meatballs for 24 bucks. On top of that, it was also slathered in sauce and imported pecorino parmesan cheese. Danny ordered the small Hollywood (a lesser-known gangster), which was filled with those meatballs, plus house-made ricotta for 12 bucks. It also had the same sauce and parmesan as the Capone.

After making Hollywood Pies aware of our arrival, we were handed our hefty pies by a friendly pizza-handler. When Danny struggled to carry the things, he told us that the large weighed in at a full five pounds. Awesome!

But where to eat? And how? Chicago-style deep dish is the only pizza in which I not only fully condone a fork and knife, I expect it. But we were miles away from home with no place to seat and no utensils to use. We wandered out of the alley, found some concrete slabs to sit on and then went to work. We lost a few toppings while separating the slices to eat, but managed to lift some giant slices without the need for utensils. Success! When I bit in, I was greeted with that old familiar taste of Chicago deep dish. Starting from the bottom, the dough was thick, but cooked through perfectly. You could tell these guys really cared about their pizzas, as there was a bit of a mesh lining on the bottom of the box to prevent any potential dough sogginess. It had a sort of crumbly texture, but no sign of falling apart. The dough also had a pleasant buttery taste to it. Working my way inside, the mozzarella was gooey, melty and pretty much what you hope for with any pizza.

Then there were the meats, which filled the pizza perfectly. The sausage was definitely mild and hard to distinguish from the meatballs, although they both tasted great. The pepperoni, however, was amazing. It was thick, flavorful and did justice to Chicago’s historical relationship with meat. The three meats really balanced each other out and were so evenly dispersed that there was never any issue with having too much or too little meat. I was also amazed to find that their combination with the mozzarella didn’t give me a sodium overload. This sometimes seems to happen with Chicago-style pizza and I was glad to see that Hollywood Pies had avoided this pitfall.

Finally, the sauce and the parmesan cheese were like the perfect icing to my cake of a pizza. The sauce had a nice little spice kick to it that was just kind of saying, “Hello, I’m dancing on your taste buds,” without doing any sort of fire damage. It was actually so subtle that it didn’t distract at all from any of the other well-balanced ingredients. The parmesan, while delicious, was ultimately just parmesan cheese. It was certainly a necessary component of the pizza, but didn’t stand out at all.

My only problem with this entire undertaking was that I had little to compare this delicious pizza to. It felt a little lighter than the Chicago pizza of my memory, but perhaps this is just conjecture. There is no doubt that they nailed the uniqueness of Chicago-style pizza and captured some great flavors. Yet, I can’t help wondering how Hollywood Pies would stack up against some of Chicago’s greats. Fortunately, though, they don’t have to, because here in Los Angeles Hollywood Pies is currently the king of Chicago-style deep dish and I fully expect to be back again soon.

Ever since I conceived of the notion of a to-eat list, Comme Ça (pronounced comb-eh sah) has resided on that list. The reason is because once upon a time, Jane Sigal of the New York Times called The Comme Ça Burger “perfect.” That is no small claim and no small publication. But how would it fare against my unvegan palette? Would it crumble to the ground and beg for mercy like the Father’s Office Burger or would it leaving me begging for more like Umami Burger? I hoped it would be the latter.

Comme Ça is not your average everyday restaurant. The prices aren’t out of control, but a burger for 17 greenbacks isn’t something you just choose to eat in passing. Hence, my mom treated me and my girlfriend to dinner at Comme Ça on the most important occasion of all – my birthday. And because it was my birthday, I didn’t just jump right to the burger. Instead, I started out with some Soupe A L’Oignon Gratinee, which is fancy French-speak for French Onion Soup, because it looked so damn good at the table next to us. I wanted to order it Al Michaels-style (aka “hold the onions”), but opted to split it with the girlfriend and eat around those onions. Despite said onions, this was a good choice. The gruyere cheese melted over the top alone would have been enough to make it worthwhile, but the delicious gooey croutons and flavorful broth served as a great warm up to the reason I was there.

The burger.

After all this time, it was finally mine. The menu claimed that it was made with angus beef, cheddar, dressing and carried a side of pommes frites (fries for the riff raff), but I didn’t want to take any chances. I asked our waitress if it contained anything else, and as she described some sort of strange cole slaw-like concoction I had to ask her to forgo it. She insisted I at least take it on the side and I did to humor her. Luckily, that side meant it was off in its own little pan and made no contact with my meat unless I willed it. I ordered the burger medium rare and it turned out to be as medium rare a burger I had ever seen. Totally brown on the outside, mere millimeters inside the burger, the beef turned into a dark pink color. But amazingly, there was nothing raw about the burger.

Comma Ça’s burgerizing method involves searing the burger to get the outside brown and then tossing it in the oven to get the inside cooked, but still retaining the peak of flavor and juiciness. Their method is amazing at producing awesome patties, yet for all the goodness of the patty, I couldn’t help but expect more. All this talk about a burger topped with ordinary cheddar and a pretty good bun? Don’t get me wrong…I like simplicity, but if I (or the person who happens to be taking me out to dinner) drop 17 bucks on a burger, it had better be spectacular. Comme Ça produced a damn good cheeseburger, but in the end it wasn’t a lot more than a cheeseburger.

The pommes frites were a pretty good companion to the burger, though. Then, to top it all off, the waitress brought me out some free birthday dessert. This was their Chocolate Pot De Creme, which loosely translates to something chocolatey with fresh whipped cream. I may not be a big chocolate man, but this dessert was light, creamy and a deliciously sweet way to end my birthday meal.

So, was the Comme Ça burger a victim of overhype? Are there just too many amazing burgers in LA? Was I simply depressed because it was my birthday (aka the day I realize I have one fewer year to live)? There are oh so many questions to ask, and yet the truth is that Comme Ça can still produce a damn good burger. They’ve nailed down a perfect cooking method and although the toppings could use a bit of inspiration, there is certainly very little to complain about. After all, Comme Ça means “like that” in French and I sure did.

EDIT: Irv’s has relocated, so the address here has as well. Hopefully not too much has changed.

Legend tells of a burger shack in West Hollywood. This legend says that this burger place has been around since 1950, but retains everything that made it great in that bygone era, with at least one great enhancement. This place is Irv’s Burgers and the enhancement is a little something special for every customer. This something special is that rather than giving you a number, the people behind Irv’s draw a little picture of you on your plate so they know who to bring each burger out to. This makes Irv’s a refreshing gem in the middle of the fast-paced cafes and generic boutiques of West Hollywood.

When I went to place my order, I quickly decided I wanted a double cheeseburger, then quickly upgraded it to a combo because their fries looked so good. The price of $8.25 was a bit pricey for a hole in the wall like this, but I figured I was in for something pretty amazing. As I ordered my burger without veggies, mayo or mustard (ketchup only for the Unvegan) the woman behind the counter said, “Ok, no problem, you want the baby burger.” Yes, that’s right, she called me a baby and I couldn’t be happier. Although I prefer to think of my eating as that of a five-year-old, baby works as well.

This was not the fastest burger I ever received, but that shouldn’t scare you. Clearly, these burgers were made to order, because I got my own customized plate, with the words “Just for You” written on it with black crayon. Next to those words was a quick little sketch of an orange t-shirt to match the one I was wearing. Part of me had hoped for a little more detail for my picture, but if someone knows how to find me by using the color orange, I am still a happy man. Shortly after my burger and fries were brought out, one of the old women working there brought out my giant drink with two straws protruding from it. You see, they had noticed my girlfriend had no drink and brought out enough for both of us. She even said something to us along the lines of “Happy forever” as she dropped it off and gave us both a smile. It might have been the greatest thing to ever happen to me at a burger joint.

But on to the burger. Thin, cooked through patties were the name of the game here and they were certainly delicious. Combined with standard American cheese and a perfectly normal bun, this burger managed to strike the perfect balance of the true American burger. Gourmet burgers are good and all, but the burger I had at Irv’s is truly representative of a what a burger should be: juicy, cheesy and full of perfect beefy flavor. And the fries were almost as good. Crunchy and lightly seasoned, they were cut slightly thick and there were no sickly stragglers or undercooked fries in the bunch.

Places like this really hammer home how truly unique a city LA is. Unfortunately, it seems that holes in the wall in like Irv’s are becoming the way of the dodo. A few years ago, Irv’s had to fight for its life in the sea of West Hollywood. It’s a shame, because losing a place like Irv’s would be like killing the roots of a tree. Sure, the trunk may still stand, but it will lose its life and become a sterile shell of its former life. I hope that never happens to Irv’s, because eating there is truly a delight. It may not be the best burger in the world, but it is definitely a burger and experience worth having over and over again.

We Detroiters (or metro-Detroiters in my case) are adamantly defensive and passionate about our Detroit roots. Ask one of the thousands of Detroit expats what they miss most about their homeland and they will give you answers ranging from the lakes to the sports to awesome summers. But there is one thing just about all of us can agree upon: we miss coney. In LA, we are about as far from Detroit as possible in the lower 48 and absence truly makes the heart grow fonder. Just about every conversation I’ve had with a former Detroiter in the 3-plus years I’ve lived in LA has led to a “wouldn’t it be awesome if we opened a coney restaurant out here?” moment. Yet, while all these conversations were taking place, a few people were making it happen.

A combination of famous Michiganders like Mike Binder, Tim Allen and Kris Draper (adopted Detroiter) moved forward with bringing coney to LA, specifically the Sunset Strip. Finally, after months of anticipation (and likely years for the owners), Coney Dog soft-opened on Sunday. The opening was limited to Facebook fans and those fans were even rewarded with a coupon for a free coney dog, loose burger or fries. If you haven’t yet read one of my Detroit-area coney reviews and don’t hail from Detroit, you’re probably now wondering many things. First, what is a coney dog? Second, what is a loose burger? And third, who is Kris Draper? A coney dog is a natural casing hot dog composed of a beef and pork mix, topped with a Greek-style wet chili, mustard and onions. A loose burger is essentially the same, but in place of the hot dog is loose ground beef (not formed into any sort of patty). Oh and they each are served in a steamed bun. Finally, Kris Draper is a center for the Red Wings, the greatest hockey team in the world.

I arrived to find a long throng of people waiting in line to get a taste of Coney Dog. Judging by the Tigers shirts, University of Michigan caps and Michigan State stockings, it was obvious that this line was populated by expats like myself. It took about 45 minutes to get inside (an issue that I’m certain will pass after the grand opening), but once inside, I found a pretty authentic coney experience. The interior was no-frills, the staff were incredibly friendly and I even saw people I knew (which always happened at Leo’s). A huge difference was the menu. Where coneys in the Detroit area offer a huge variety of Greek and American food, Coney Dog stuck to the basics and I think that was a wise decision. I ordered a coney dog, a loose burger and some chili cheese fries, and topped it off with another Detroit staple – Faygo Red Pop. That’s right, pop. In Michigan, soda is something you bake with. In a very un-Detroit fashion, I ordered my dog and burger with onions or mustard. Sorry, I just don’t like that crap.

The food took a few minutes longer than a normal coney, but definitely not long enough to complain about. After all, this was the soft opening and when you order food at coneys in Detroit, the food is usually finished before you got your last word out. And boy were these things beautiful. Coney Dog did not hold anything back with the chili, which was fully loaded and completely hid the actual hot dog from view. I could have used a knife to go with my fork, but instead I went right at them and chowed down with no regard for the chili and beef that would be strewn about my hands, table, plate and shirt.

They nailed it. The chili was perfectly spiced, delightfully wet and nostalgic as hell (because hey, I hadn’t been to Detroit in 3 weeks). The hot dogs that had been imported from Michigan were cooked to perfection on the griddle and the steamed buns did not fall apart even as the chili and ground beef overflowed from within. And of course, the beef in the loose burger was everything it was supposed to be.

I was a little surprised to find the fries crinkle-cut rather than the straight up thin fries. To me, this sort of fry is more closely associated with real Detroit sliders and gave me the hope that perhaps true sliders would someday make it to the menu. The fries had been cooked well-done, which I always prefer. Plus, they held up strong against the wet coney chili and refused to get soggy.

Coney Dog also offers a selection of beers and touts Stroh’s, a native Detroit beer. I love my beer, and I love that they were able to get beer from Detroit, but in truth I’m not the biggest fan of Stroh’s so I’m hoping they are able to get some other Midwestern and Michigan beers onto the tap at some point. Nonetheless, the rest of their beer selection was great and when I get a chance to sit down, relax and have a longer meal at Coney Dog, I will be sure to have some drinks.

So, after months of anticipation, I’ve got to say that Mike Binder and his motley crew of Detroiters have pulled off something truly remarkable. Not only has Coney Dog brought the true taste of Detroit out to Los Angeles, he has brought a truly Detroit experience with it. Even more remarkable is that he kept the price within reason. At 4 bucks for a dog and 4.50 for a loose burger, the value is most definitely there. These dogs may only cost 2 bucks in Detroit, but that differential is a whole lot cheaper than a flight to DTW. I’ll definitely be back. Probably tomorrow.

And thanks to Joel for that shot of Stroh’s.

Countless times I have driven through West Hollywood and passed Astro Burger. In just about all of these situations, I have muttered to myself or to anyone in my car that I just need to try that place. Finally, after one of my rare drinking nights in West Hollywood, I had a golden opportunity to see what was inside Astro Burger.

In Greek, astro means stars, and if you consider Los Angeles to be the city of stars, the clientele of Astro Burger will not disappoint. No, there weren’t any stars there, but this place was as LA as it gets. In one booth there was a lady playing solitaire and talking to herself and every other person inside just reeked of LA. But enough about that, I was not there for people.

A glance at the menu behind their counter revealed a burger with my name on it: Bacon Avocado Cheeseburger. The price of more than six bucks was a little overwhelming, but I am always willing to pay a premium for a premium burger. I ordered mine without lettuce, tomato or onions, but let them keep the thousand island dressing on. About five minutes later, my number was called and I was ready to eat.

The burger was quite pretty, except for the incredibly thin patty. I have no problem with thin patties, because lord knows I love me some real sliders, but for the price I was expecting something a bit thicker. Nonetheless, I bit in and entered old-fashioned burger bliss. The burger, although cooked all the way through, was nice and juicy. This was definitely helped by the thousand island dressing, which was actually some of the best thousand island I’ve had on a burger. The avocado added some great girth and was perfectly ripe and slightly creamy. The bacon, as always, brought the whole burger together. It was fried to a crisp without burn, added extra meat to the mix since the burger was lacking, and generally bacon-ed up the whole thing. Finally, the sesame seed bun did its job of keeping the burger together while taking a backseat to the more important ingredients.

I love me a good gourmet burger, but I still love an old-fashioned burger from a place like Astro Burger. The only trouble was that I felt like I was almost paying a gourmet burger price. I’m guessing this was related to the location, but for six bucks I have to say I’m kind of expecting a double burger. For the location, it is a great old-fashioned burger for cheaper than you’ll find most food in the area. So for that, Astro Burger is worth a visit for anyone craving late-night food in West Hollywood.

About a year ago, a coworker of mine walked up to my desk, slapped a golden matchbook on it and told me I had to go to this restaurant. The restaurant he spoke of was called Gardens of Taxco in West Hollywood and despite the strange-sounding name, he told me it was amazing. One year later he is no longer a coworker of mine, but a Living Social deal popped up for the place and I took it as a sign from the tax gods that it was time for me to pay the Gardens a visit.

We arrived for our reservation and were immediately seated. I ordered a Dos Equis to start off the evening and soon after our waiter came out to ask if we were ready to order. We hadn’t yet seen any menus, so we were thrown off a bit by this question. He informed us that Gardens of Taxco was a Mexico City-style restaurant, which meant no menus outside of the one memorized in his head (I later confirmed with a friend of mine that Mexico City certainly has menus, so if this was Mexico City-style, perhaps it is a style that no longer exists in Mexico.). He asked each of us which type of meat we would like and immediately recited 4 or 5 dishes from each from his head. You could tell he truly loved this part of his job as he described each dish better than a J. Peterman catalog. The girlfriend opted for Chicken Taxco, made with their namesake sauce. This sauce was of the cilantro cream variety and was said to be a bit spicy. I, on the other hand, went with their Carne Asada, but we agreed to try out each others’ dishes.

But this meal was not just some simple entree. Nay, it was a five-course meal, beginning with a delectable quesadilla. Filled simply with cheese and topped with guacamole, I was amazed at how delicious the quesadilla was. I don’t know if the cheese was laced with crack or what, but this was by far the best plain cheese quesadilla I had ever eaten. This was followed by a far-less-exciting soup. Although at first I was disappointed to find said soup loaded with veggies, I dug in and discovered chunks of tasty meat inside. This did much to improve the soup and made it worthy of being considered a course in and of itself.

Course number three was a bit of a chicken taco. Because I had ordered beef as my main course, my taco was chicken, while my girlfriend’s taco was beef. Mine was covered in red sauce to make it the first wet taco I’d ever seen and it forced me to use a knife and fork on the poor little thing. Or maybe it was an enchilada? I thought he said taco, but I suppose a wet taco would just inherently be an enchilada. Whatever it was, on top, there was a diabolical olive, which I had to scrape off in order to begin eating. Fortunately, I found that within the taco/enchilada there were no vegetables and it was strictly some delicious and tender chicken. I tried the beef one as well, and it was also a delicious, and wet, taco.

Finally, the main courses arrived and these things were just gigantic. My slab of carne asada was one huge strip of thin-sliced steak just itching to be devoured. It was surrounded by rice and beans, and although there was a vegetable garnish or two, they fortunately did not get in the way of the devouring experience. I easily sliced through the carne and bit in. The biting wasn’t really necessary because the carne melted like butter in my mouth. It was so tender, in fact, that I attempted to cut through another slice using only my fork and was spectacularly successful. It wasn’t strongly seasoned, which was good because the carne itself had such great flavor. Just thinking about that buttery meat makes my mouth water right now.

And then there was the Chicken Taxco. I recalled the waiter describing a different chicken dish by saying it tasted like the chicken was born in the sauce. The Chicken Taxco felt the same way. The chicken was just so incredibly tender, it felt like it had been creamed along with the sauce. And the sauce was just incredible. The combination of cream, cilantro and spice worked together in such perfect harmony that my shoe would have tasted great in it.

More than fully stuffed, our final course arrived. Fortunately it wasn’t a big dessert. I dug a spoon in, tasted and realized I was essentially eating banana cream pie without the pie. Instead, it was served in a sundae dish. Since banana cream pie is one of my favorite desserts of all time, this banana cream made a perfect finish to a delicious meal.

For a five course meal, Gardens of Taxco truly delivered. From the menu recitation all the way through to the final bite of banana cream, I couldn’t have asked much more of the place. For the Carne Asada alone, the meal would have been worth it. But instead I consumed an amazing quesadilla, a tasty wet taco/enchilada and even some interesting soup meat. For a Mexican night on the town, Gardens of Taxco is a great place to find yourself.

Katana (warning: turn down your speakers because their retarded site automatically plays loud bass) in West Hollywood is about as trendy as you can get for Japanese food. Yet, to my surprise, when I was sent their DineLA Restaurant Week menu for a possible dinner, I saw only one sushi option. With this in mind, I thought that perhaps the $34 fixed price would actually be worth it, so off we went to Katana. Showing up last, I was greeted with a rousing “irasshai” (although I was a bit disappointed they didn’t go for the more formal “irasshaimase”) and found that some chicken gyoza (potstickers) had already been ordered. This struck me as strange since we were about to order a fixed price meal, but I decided to roll with it.

While waiting for said gyoza, I decided what I wanted for my meal. For the appetizer I chose the Ebi Bacon, also known as bacon-wrapped jumbo shrimp with chili garlic sauce. Then I chose the Spicy Niku Don for my main course. Niku, of course, means meat and in this case the meat was sliced beef and served on steamed rice. To wrap it all up, I got the sorbet with fresh fruit. Now I was ready to eat some gyoza.

When it came out, there were a total of five dumplings. Not exactly what I had hoped for an 11 dollar appetizer. It really was some good gyoza, but I couldn’t help but think about my life once upon a time when I used to stuff myself with a plateful of gyoza for a buck in Hikone, Japan. Alas, such a memory could do me no good at Katana.

After that I moved on to my personal appetizer, the Ebi Bacon. If an appetizer is something simply meant to make you hungrier for the main course, then the Ebi Bacon really did its job. It came as one simple skewer and although there were multiple ebi on the skewer, this was certainly not an appetizer fit for the $34 price range. As for the taste, the Ebi Bacon was really quite delicious. I am often fearful of shrimp because it can be rubbery, but this was nice and crunchy with a nice balance of bacon, chili and garlic. After my skewer I was left wanting more, but there was no more to be found.

Instead, I found my Spicy Niku Don. This dish was pretty much an upscale Yoshinoya beef bowl, but with a vile twist. Yes, that’s kimchi in there. I don’t know what crazy person thought kimchi in niku don was a good idea, but dammit if I wanted kimchi I would’ve gone to a Korean restaurant. And I don’t want kimchi, because it is a terrible terrible pickled vegetable. I removed the kimchi from my don and then went to work. Once again, I was happy with my dish, but I was left wanting more. Preferably more of the beef, because I struggled to maintain a good ratio of beef to rice as I ate through my bowl.

Finally, it came down to dessert. First, they brought out the wrong dessert, so I sent it back. After about 15 minutes passed, my sorbet with fresh fruit arrived. I was amazed that such a tiny dish could have taken them so long. Among all the bright colors, I almost couldn’t find the sorbet, but then I realized that it wasn’t because of the bright colors but because the scoop of sorbet was only slightly larger than a raspberry. Wait, I take that back because I have seen raspberries bigger than that. I dug in knowing this would be my final food of the meal and once again I found some tasty food that left me desiring more.

Look, we all know the saying, “leave the audience wanting more.” Let me get one thing straight: THIS DOES NOT APPLY TO FOOD. When I leave a restaurant, I want to be full. I may want more another day, but I should never want more immediately after departure and I don’t care how good your food is. You know, unless I just paid a buck. But with Katana, I dropped a lot more than a buck and although I really did enjoy the general taste of the food, there is no way I got my money’s worth.