Yen Sushi is like an old friend. Not a good friend. Just someone you smile at a lot. But don’t really know what else to say to.

Everyone is so damn friendly here, it’s like Sushi Disneyland.

Thankfully, their sushi is so delish that you get over it and just mentally flip everyone the bird while shoving delicious fish down your gullet.

It was raining like mad today and while I waited for my friends, I patiently sat in the waiting room? and ate the free candy like a madman. I came back to work with my pockets filled with dozens of plastic wrappers falling out. My colleagues must have thought I was fresh from a trip to our local dumpster.

The thing to at Yen is the spicy tuna on crispy rice. See below. It’s quite decadent. You only get 4 pieces per order and that’s plenty. The sauce drizzled over it is sweet and from an unknown origin.

Don’t ask my what is pictured at the top. I didn’t even eat any of it. I’m just recently getting into avocado and I’m definitely not stepping foot near a single of those abnormally large sea creature eggs. Which are actually, probably eyeballs.

I’ve eaten here a million* times and usually sit at the bar, where they give you this really good dessert afterwards. They slice up this apple and plop it on a big ole pile of peanut butter!! After school snack!

*thousand

9618 W Pico Blvd
Ste 509
Los Angeles, CA 90035
(310) 278-0691
www.yensushila.com

Who put that severed human tongue on my tacos??

I needed to get out of the office today. And I needed tacos.

Those are two common needs of mine.

Eduardo’s is a simple, somewhat healthy joint located in a strip mall.

In LA, many of the best gems are hidden in those seedy, 3-available-parking-spot complex’s. Usually right next to a ghetto, neon nail salon and a super shady dental office. However, the only indication of the latter is a chipped, painted sign boasting “Dentist”. If they don’t accept your insurance, I’m sure they’ll take a kidney!

As far as Eduardo’s decor goes… I don’t think there is any. But who cares? It’s lunchtime and you’re working. Do you really need festive? You’re not guzzling margaritas. Well, not more than three.

What did stand out was their salsa bar. The make their own mango salsa! It didn’t really go with anything but I kept eating it because it was there.

I got the two taco platter. It was large, fresh and tasty!

You watched them take full steaks off the grill and dice them up and you could see all the chicken being bbq’d.

That’s a rare occurrence, in a Mexican joint, to actually see your food cooking from start to finish.

Start to finish?? Crap. I sound like Rachael Ray! I’ll tell ya what you can do with that EVOO!!!

DO YOU EVER…

Find yourself walking down the hall, you see someone approaching whom you do NOT wish to walk by, and you pretend to go down the nearest hallway?

You either don’t like the person or you’ve already walked by him/her too many times and you no longer wish to nod or smile as you pass them.

So, instead, you decide to do the decent thing and ignore them.

What I hate is when they end up following you down that same hallway into the printing room and you now have to pretend to look for something that isn’t there.

“Shoot, I must have forgotten to hit ‘print’!”

1830 Westwood Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90025
(310) 475-2410
www.eduardosbordergrill.com

Let’s try this again.

The last time I attempted to blog about this place, my website caught a virus. One that led my poor mother to some graphic porn site when she attempted to see what Bun Boy was up to.

That’ll teach her!

I’m so upset that all the pictures I took of my most expensive blogged-about meal all turned out CRAPPY.

Except for these shortribs, which were given to us for free.

Yes, free.

Trust me, you WANT to eat with Bun Boy.

The sad thing is, the ribs were both fatty and bland. And were perched on a pile of horseradish FOAM.

Why is FOAM popping up in so many trendy LA restaurants?? It’s texture is revolting, like eating spittle.

XIV is an upscale lounge posing as a restaurant (a depressingly common trend), owned by a company which seems to run half of LA’s nightlife.

We came here for DineLA week, where you get a preset menu for a preset price.

The trouble is, $44 turned into $90 a person!

$90 for FOAM!

The parsnip soup I ordered was tasty but it featured a dollop of apple flavored FOAM, unncessarily.

Luckily the salmon was absolutely delicious, I’ve never had it so perfectly cooked before. All four bites of it.

It was served on a bed of braised celery, the flavor went perfectly with the fish.

And it contained zero FOAM.

I would offer you a picture, but it pretty much SUCKED!

My desert was amazing, Nutella custard with Popcorn Ice Cream! The only downside was the Passion fruit FOAM placed in the dessert cup for absolutely no reason. It did NOT belong. Like a priest in a locker room.

Once again, no picture available.

But here’s a pic of my friend’s dessert.

On our way out, we spotted Sidney Poitier waiting for a table, not looking a day over 106. I should have warned him to run for the hills! The FOAM was coming, the FOAM was coming!

8117 W Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90046
(323) 656-1414
xivrestaurant.com

My good friend Marion Campbell, better known on my blog as “Captain”, sure loves her wine.

So much so, she’s begun pimping it in her spare time.

(I believe I just rhymed)

She is a talent agent by day and a wine consultant by night.

She’s one of the busiest and most talented chics I know, she was literally born to do both.

Recently, she had a few friends over for a wine tasting at her home. She layed out quite the spread, the food was delicious!

And so were the wines! We bought cases and cases of the available wines and not just cuz we were her friends!

Here’s how it works:

You decide to host a wine tasting at your home.

You lay out a simple spread of fruits, cheeses, crackers and chocolate.

She comes over with 6 wines for you and your 8-12 guests to sample. You only pay $60 bucks (collect $5 bucks from each of your cheap friends) and you even get a free gift for hosting!

Then you can order any of the wines from her just like a tupperware party…except tupperware doesn’t get you drunk.

The best part of her tastings (besides the fact that she’s a spitfire and you’ll be doubled over with laughter) is that you can turn the tasting into an excuse for a party!

HERE’S THE LINK TO HER WEBSITE, IT’S SO MUCH FUN!

http://www.wineshopathome.com/marioncampbell

On my way to lunch today, I see a fist fight break out on LaBrea, most likely victims of road rage; the two guys’ cars were stopped in the middle of the road! All the swinging fists I witnessed missed their targets, but it was quite entertaining for that 30 seconds.

There seem to be a lot of restaurants popping up in Hollywood specializing in upscale comfort food.

I have NO problem with this. I never met a mac and cheese that I didn’t want to make love to.

Clyde also swears the 4 cheese mac pictured above is the best he’s ever had. And his grandmother had an incredible recipe of her own!

We attempted to be sensible, so we split a Love Club sandwich. Very good, it was served hot, which was a nice change.

I can’t quite decypher the theme of this place. There’s some elements of the whole Love thing, but the walls display kitchy toys such as boxing nuns.

The fries were ok. The dipping sauces were a tad boring, the bbq sauce didn’t really go with either fry and the tabasco ketchup tasted a bit stale.

But there’s something very homey and neighborhoody about this place. Our waitress was great, the food was tasty and nicely priced.

I would definitely come back, if only to continue my torrid love affair with that mac and cheese.

6508 Hollywood Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90028
www.slhhollywood.com

When I was a filthy younger man, I once neglected to wash my bed sheets for a very long time.

It sort of became a running joke. One, I am now embarrassed by.

Instead of washing them, I eventually just bought new sheets.

The cheapest I could find. Probably 30 thread count. With the option to purchase more threads as finances permitted.

I took the old sheets and lovingly hid them behind my friends couch.

The next morning I wake up to see them lying next to our apt. building’s pool.

There they sat for many weeks.

Whenever we hung out at the pool, we occasionally threw them on people who were relaxing in pool chairs.

One day, at a gathering at another apartment in our Melrose place-like building, I threw them on someone’s face.

As she pealed them off, she had a look of shock.

“They actually smell clean, Bun!”

Apparently, weeks of fresh air and sunshine had transformed the fetid, funeral linens into Four Seasons bedding!

God’s Fabreeze, if you will.

Let’s switch to food now that we all still have our appetites.

Fresh Corn Grill is a cute joint in Westwood that comfortably seats about 3 people. And a hundred others are hovering like vultures waiting for your table.

You have to arrive for lunch at 9 a.m. to avoid this.

Their thing is corn and grilling. How can you go wrong?

I had the Fresh Corn Grilled Salad (pic at top) and a side of the corn chowder.

Light, healthy and delicious. They actually scrape the corn off the cob, as you’ll see the large chunks in all your food.

They put corn in everything.

I’m surprised there aren’t niblets floating in our water!

1510 Westwood Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90024
(310) 470-0414
www.freshcorngrill.com

I pretty much hate everyone when I’m driving.

But nothing pisses me off more than when someone drives a sports car, slowly.

Is there really anything worse? Perhaps keying another man’s car.

That’s worthy of severe punishment. Even you, Carrie Underwood.

Sports cars are supposed to whiz past you and cause you to curse the drivers for risking lives!

This morning, I was driving behind an elderly man in a souped-up Mercedes, just puttering along as if he was in a Model T Ford!

He never ONCE peered in the rear view mirror to see the friendly hand gestures I was presenting him.

He just continued to defile his beloved vehicle by refusing to bruise the delicate accelerator.

Why can’t he join the rest of his ranks and drive a Lexus or Cadillac??! (or one of those newly recalled Toyota’s with the gas pedal that sticks…)

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER SANDWICH SHOP…

This place is a zoo. It just opened up and it’s the absolute definition of a clusterf***.

I witnessed an altercation between a large, fat man waiting patiently for a table and a douchey talent agent who had just retrieved his sandwich and placed it on said table as soon as the loitering ladies who had occupied it had skedadled.

The fat man sat down anyway.

Profanity ensued.

Douche McGouche’s argument was that since the fat man hadn’t ordered yet, he couldn’t snag a table.

“Where’s your sandwich, asshole?” he protested.

The fat man didn’t (couldn’t) get up.

Inside, there were dozens of sandwich makers begging for orders and ONE LONELY CASHIER with an angry mob at her wake.

They crowd lit their sandwiches on fire, as torches, in protest.

The lack of balance irritated me. Like neon sunglasses.

I ordered the Bobbie. The Thanksgiving sandwich!

My second favorite sandwich ever consumed. It just got better with each obcenely large bite.

Shredded turkey breast, lots of really good stuffing and cranberries.

Each bite had plenty of everything. My bread runeth over.

I almost didn’t mind that the wait was so long I had to leave and eat at my desk. With the door closed. For everyone’s safety.

9683 Wilshire Blvd
Beverly Hills, CA 90212
(310) 858-1383
www.capriottis.com

I finally saw the movie “Twilight” for the first time this week.

The only thing I really took away from it was that one of the characters mentioned “Kitsap County”, which is the area of Washington state that I’m from.

Oh, and the acting was dreadful.

I believe the only direction the actors were given was this:

“Look uncomfortable.”

“Look angst-ridden.”

“Look like you just ate lots of hummus and potato salad that’s been left out in the sun for an unknown period of time and it’s beginning to wreck havoc on your bowels, but you’re not ready to run for the toilet just yet.”

I don’t get what the fuss is about. However, I believe the older one gets, the more one picks everything apart.

I recently watched a movie I loved as a child. All I could do was comment on the awful special effects and the fact that the flying dragon in “Neverending Story” doesn’t look real anymore! SO disappointed.

So, where were we?

I had an awful day at work. My clients were all emailing me at once and wanting answers within minutes. What would they have done if I wasn’t at work that day? Implode? Most likely.

I had a business dinner at this little Chinese spot blocks from my house, located in the infamous Whole Foods plaza.

If you ever want to discover if you have any hidden homicidal tendacies, attempt to find a parking spot here on a saturday afternoon. You will be laughing hysterically as the police haul you away, the warm cadaver still stuck in your front grill.

Kung Pao has an amazing dish. The West Hollywood Wonton Soup.

It’s your basic, boring wonton soup, kicked up a few notches. Lots of wontons filled with tasty miscellaneous meat. Chunks of BBQ pork. Not too soggy bok choy. White meat chicken fragments.

YUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUS!

N.R., my business partner in my sub shop venture, and I split a batch of really tasty egg rolls.

I love egg rolls, even bad ones. Even soggy ones filled only with ancient cabbage, thawed after being recently discovered at the back of a freezer.

Left there from when another restaurant occupied the space.

What are those red squares at the top, you ask?

Jello.

Jell-OH!

7853 Santa Monica Blvd
West Hollywood, CA 90046
(323) 848-9888
www.kpbistro.com/home.html

Once again, I had all intentions on attempting to visit Langer’s Deli, yet again.

I joined my friends Barnacle and Whale for a morning Yoga session in Silverlake. I struggled through much of it, and my stomach kept lurching each time I caught a glance at my grime-covered yoga mat. I believe it was once green in color.

We walked to the farmers market, tasted some jams and began our descent into downtown.

It was a beautiful day in LA. The snow-covered mountains were quite visible for a change.

But so was the line out the door to Langers.

Uh..next!

After much deliberation, we drove to Little Tokyo and ate at Mr. Ramen.

We texted a LT expert who advised us NOT to eat there.

Too late. We were seated and we ordered several rounds of Gyoza.

I had the spicy beef curry soup. SO GOOD!

The yoga had obviously ramped up my appetite, so I drank every last oily drop.

That evening a strange, short man who lives in my apt. complex asked for me to help move his broken down, 1004 pound Television set into his spare bedroom.

This man lives in a horror movie memorabilia convention.

Besides the obligatory life-size coffin and enormous guillotine, he has the original “Mother” corpse from the movie “Psycho”.

I had begun to worry I would not ever leave this place.

When I noticed the door to the spare bedroom was closed, I asked if we could open it as to make the transition smoother.

He paused.

“Uh..well..the cats are in there.”

Red Flag Alert!

I was obviously a dead man.

My limbs were as sure as gone. Resting comfortably in a frozen, compact climate.

When I eventually convinced the man of the need to eventually open the freaking door, he conceded and the strong scent of kitty litter wafted past me, as strong as that of my yoga mat!

The TV was so damn heavy we ended up dragging it across the carpet to the bedroom.

I looked around, knowing I would be spending my remaining living days in that room, cats gnawing at my cheeks. Both sets.

Luckily, I was wrong and was permitted to leave.

I still sleep with one eye open.

341 E 1st St
Los Angeles, CA 90012
(213) 626-4252

Please note, in the middle of the worst storm in the history of 2010, I still plan on braving the elements and paying good money to have food prepared for me.

Beginning Monday, you can look forward to musings on the following restaurants throughout the week:

Yen Sushi
Tinto
Langer’s Deli
Sweet Love Hangover
Fresh Corn Grill
Capriotti’s

By the way…

I did something awful today.

Something despicable.

I stole from the blind.

I received a little donation request in the mail. It was chock-full of blank birthday cards, joyfully featuring leaping puppies and frolicking kittens (one had an old, crusty dog with a phone in it’s mouth)

I snatched them for myself and threw away the rest of the solicitation.

No retina surgeries for them!

How bad was that really?

I always steal the address labels that come with my quarterly Feed The Children mailing.

Do I ever use those labels? Uh, no.

Did I just purchase a golden ticket to Hell?

Uh, yes.