Ok, I will be in LA for the next week because I want to become one of those loathsome New Yorkers who moves, thinks they are doing something radical, shares their thoughts with the world and then becomes insufferable about Mexican food. I mean, I’m not moving, I’m just going to be doing a lot of eating probably.
The big questions are if I can avoid grain bowls, avocado toast, hour-waits for egg sandwiches, pizza no matter how hot shit (this is where New Yorkers are insufferable) and if I should care about poke? Like how does raw fish become some city-wide (ok, nation-wide, if I’m to believe today’s Zagat post) trend? Oh, and if I’ll be able to remember how to drive, and figure out how to pump gas. (I know, right? But I grew up in Oregon and all my NYC car experiences involved getting gas in New Jersey because it’s cheaper.)
I hope to return wiser and fuller of tacos, In-n-Out burgers–and er, Malibu Chicken. (I’m dead serious about my love of Sizzler. In fact, it was sort of the impetus for the trip.)