Ever in the mood to go back to the 50′s? Perhaps go on a date with Pinky Tuscadero or perhaps go back in time to sock-hops, derbies and 45 rpm records being played from a jukebox.

Well Cafe 50′s is just that spot. The latest location of the LA-based mini chain opened four months ago and located across from LACC. This diner will definitely take you back to the 50s with classic shakes, fountain drinks, and burgers. It is a throwback to the era of the “All American” wholesome family and when greasers, as seen in the movie Grease, were the teen rebels. The whole place is plastered with 50′s memorabilia such as posters, album covers, vintage soda pop signs, “I Like Ike” buttons and wall-o-matics.

To read more about the joint….visit Galo Eating

Twain’s ~ 12905 Ventura Blvd. Studio City, CA 91604

Twain’s is the bomb.  A “diner” doesn’t necessarily mean all the food is great.  You judge where you eat by the looks of the place and what the cook is frying up.  And it’s mostly breakfast and it’s mostly eggs, bacon, omelettes, pancakes, waffles…etc.  Twain’s has great breakfast food.  I can safely say that if you order “off” the menu…  i.e. burgers, sandwiches, fish etc. etc. you will be disappointed.  Plus they have eggbeaters and eggwhites which is what I always get.  24/7 this is probably one of the best breakfast diners in the valley.

Lucky Boy Drive-In ~ 640 S. Arroyo Pkwy ~ Pasadena

I’d heard a lot of good things about this place, but never had the chance to try it out. I’m always skeptical of hyped-up “burger stands” since they usually don’t make the best burgers in town… and I was right. The burgers at this joint are average, mediocre, so-so, just OK. However, while I was munching on my bland burger, everyone around me was smiling, laughing, and eating these huge burritos and I was like…damn I got the wrong thing again!

So, being the persistent type, I came back and got the “famous breakfast burritos,” which are served all day/night. In a word, they are amazing. These are the best breakfast burritos I’ve had in LA hands down (so far). Lots of nice touches that show they truly care about their craft, for example full on sausage links in the sausage burrito. Another standout is the veggie with avocado, and you can’t go wrong with either the bacon or chorizo burritos. These things are monsters, get ready to share these with your family. Each burrito is enough food for two people but if you are hungover, hungry, a starving artist, bored, a competitive eater, or just love breakfast burritos…take one out yourself. But don’t get the burgers, they’re a complete a waste of money.

Bob Hope Airport ~ 2627 N. Hollywood Way Burbank, CA 91505

“Bloody Mary…Bloody Mary… Aahhhh.” Remember turning off the lights and standing in front of the bathroom mirror with your eyes closed, conjuring Bloody Mary with the beady red eyes? If you’re interested in what’s wrong with you (why are you locking yourself in the restroom with the lights off), check out folklorist Janet Langlois’ 1978 essay “Mary Whales I Believe In You.” Or, try South Park, episodes “Hell On Earth 2006″ and “Bloody Mary”. Now, our gruesome friend known as the “mirror witch” is unrelated to the iconic breakfast beverage. However, if you wake up one morning to find out that you, actually, are the mirror witch, I can recommend a remedy.

Here we see the main mixings of home style “Mary, Mary.. why ya buggin, properly stored like my collection of severed hands keeping in jars of formaldehyde. Here is positive proof that at Bob Hope Airport, Bloody Mary is #1. After recieving a tip from an old UCLA alumni about the Bloody Marys at the terminal lounge restaurant of the airport in Burbank, I put on my traveling shoes and booked a ticket to nowhere. Who doesn’t love airport bars. The busy buzz and aimless meandering of life at the cross roads, killing time and making it on time, checking in and checking out. Alas, this welcoming restaurant lounge/bar is not for ticketed passengers only, and temporary parking at Burbank Airport is a hop and skip from the terminal. A junior landing strip compared to LAX and Ontario, Burbank is frequented by small planes, pornstars, and boozing Bloodhounds in pursuit of the ideal Bloody Mary.

A lot can been said about the Bloody Mary- Who is she? Will she scratch my eyes out? Bartenders Fernand Petiot and the late, great George Jessell, the “Toastmaster General of the United States”, both claim to have invented this healthy as-it-is hazardous hangover cure-all of repute. However, historians and drinkers tend to champion the Parisian, Fernand Petiot (1900-1975), bartender at Harry’s New York Bar in Paris of the 1920′s. In 1933, when Petiot became head bartender at the St. Regis Hotel in N.Y.C, his basic tomato and vodka recipe took a turn for the spicier so as to quell his thrill seeking clientele. The Bloody Mary is not named for the murderous inquisitor, Queen Mary I of England, or the headless Mary Queen of Scots. According to Fernand, “one of the boys suggested we call the drink ‘Bloody Mary’ because it reminded him of the Bucket of Blood Club in Chicago, and a girl there named Mary.” Try saying that in your best French-Manhattan accent.

Here’s what Fernand had to say to the New Yorker, 18 July 1964:

“I initiated the Bloody Mary of today,” he told us. “George Jessel said he created it, but it was really nothing but vodka and tomato juice when I took it over. I cover the bottom of the shaker with four large dashes of salt, two dashes of black pepper, two dashes of cayenne pepper, and a layer of Worcestershire sauce; I then add a dash of lemon juice and some cracked ice, put in two ounces of vodka and two ounces of thick tomato juice, shake, strain, and pour. We serve a hundred to a hundred and fifty Bloody Marys a day here in the King Cole Room and in the other restaurants and the banquet rooms.”

Oh, by the way, it is considered “uncivilized” to serve B.M.s after 6pm. Well, what time is it in France- it is, after all, the only truly civilized nation… Don’t gag on that extra spice!

Here we have the “simple breakfast” chosen from a simple loose leaf breakfast menu. Huevos “sonriados”, bacon and home-style potatoes. Indulge to the sound of flight announcements and the shrill whistle of a coffee steamer. You won’t miss your flight waiting for the grill to warm up. Despite the rush of passengers and flight attendents, the restaurant staff were calming, kindly, and prompt. The first thing Theresa says when I ask for a Bloody is “Spicy- right?!” I say “Oh, yeah!” Eat at the bar and watch her mix it up in a big pint glass. She includes a fat lemon wedge, a little half lime, an olive speared to another lemon wedge, and a hefty branch of celery. Unbeatable.

The “simple breakfast” is delectable. The well seasoned potatoes grilled with onion and bell pepper strips have a dense, slow baked consistency. Spear the egg yolk with a brittle, uneven strip of bacon. Because it is sliced so thin and fried so right, the bacon fat melts on your tongue. The Burbank airport does justice to bacon and eggs simplicity.

Bloody Mary recipes.

Bloody Mary history.

Sam’s Armenian Bakery ~ 410 Raleigh St. Glendale, CA 91205 ~818 247-6281

Mmm, mmmm. It’s breakfast time at Sam’s Armenian Bakery. If coffee and donuts just isn’t cutting your morning fog, try any number of fried sweet breads and meat filled pastries fresh from Sam’s kitchen. Ask, and the baker will tell you what’s inside each of these treats waiting to meet you. I chose one filled with potato. The baker responded to my wide eyed curiosity by offering me Armenian pizza. “What’s that?” “It’s good- you’ll like it.” Hey, that’s an offer I can’t refuse!

The pizzas were surely fresh from the oven, because the baker disappeared into the kitchen and shortly reappeared with an offering my eyes could not refuse. I looked pleased and she deftly folded the thin crust pizza in half. She rang everything up for a bargain price of $1.65.

Armenian pizza, also know as Lahmajoon, is a thin crust pizza spread with ground lamb, parsley, garlic, and assorted herbs and spices. Everybody knows that pizzas all over the world are strangely different and the same. Sam’s pizzas are a delicious and light snack. Like a good taco, I could have eaten one after the other. But I was on the run, like the many cab drivers I saw come and go from the 20min. parking spaces outside the bakery. We’ll be back to sample more sugary sweet dough treats; they bring back childhood memories of sopapillas with honey butter.

1433 Hermosa Ave. Hermosa Beach, CA 90254 ~ (310) 376-8909 (TACO Guide)

Loving all foods Mexican and possessing an unholy appetite for the incredible, edible egg, you can bet your bottom dollar that I love me some breakfast burritos. I also enjoy my breakfast most when surrounded by the biggest cast of sketchballs assembled since the last AVN Convention. I don’t feel truly at home in a neighborhood breakfast joint unless eyes and teeth are a high-luxury for its regulars.

Waking from one haze or another on a TACO floor recently, my stumbling down the blocks of Manhattan Beach drew attention to my ragged state as if I were a walking off-track betting center, pushing me closer towards refuge. I used to find my way into Manhattan Bee-atch’s Kofee Kart on similar confused findings-of-myself-in-the-north-South Bay, their old school waitresses making all my Alice fantasties come finally true. But then they showed an allegiance to Fox News I found unappetizing. Also, for a place named after the mud, my cup seemed to reach and remain at bottom too much.

My new home for the most important meal of the day in the Tri-Pier cities is 15th Street Burger in neighboring Hermosa Beach, where cheap eats are endangered. They have everything on their gargantuan menu from an impressive selection of renowned small and large burgers done in creative styles to teriyaki, sandwiches, tacos, and mucho mas. I grabbed a steak and egg burrito for my host and a turkey and avocado burrito for my big ass, aguacate being another obsession.

I’m not usually a huge fan of potatoes in my Mexican food. I see this on occasion. Being from blood both Polish and Irish in parts, maybe I snobbily find spuds a step-back to filler. 15th St. Burger knows it taters, though. Mashed in a soft Tabasco-stained cocoon around the shredded turkey and near-melted, creamy avocado is a sometimes crunchy, often soft comforter of gratin-like hashed potato.  It’s the bomb and a great take on the breakfast burrito, putting the entire contents of breakfast in one wrapped unit (heh heh).

The turkey’s quality does not seem particularly higher than packaged sandwich meat (though more Boar’s Head than Oscar Meyer’s), but the medley of the ingredients makes for an incredibly comforting texture. The tastes are subtle, but wrapped in a structurally sound tortilla and piping hot, it is a sustaining, filling way to begin the day.

The steak and eggs was obviously even heartier, the steak chewy but filled with grilled, juicy flavor, contrasting nicely with a fluffy bed of eggs that was distributed well. I have come back for some burgers too, which are nicely grilled, tasty, and similarly hearty affairs. T hey have a San Francisco burger with swiss and avocado on sourdough that is very good.

Best of all, 15th Street brings together the South Bay’s best breakfast fans over $6 burritos, burgers, and free LA Times. Not the yuppie soccer dads, or Nazi skinheads, or USC grads in Bush/Cheney shirts, but the seemingly homeless, the tatted, the tweaking, the hard-hustling, and the sleepless.

Start your day off there soon before it becomes a Starbucks with a stroller requirement. I read it is actually slated to be torn down, with its neighbor the abandoned donut shop, to make room for condo style offices, a shop, and upscale restaurant. Note to Torrance, please get the eggs cooking.

La Gran Via Bakery: “Monarca de los Cakes” ~ 4461 Lennox Blvd. ~ Inglewood, CA 90304~ (310)674-0654

Rise and shine, from Cuba to you, La Gran Via is Inglewood’s great crown champ of all things sweet and savory. Wake up and smell the croquetas de jamón, empanadas, bocaditos, papas rellenas and brazo gitano. If breakfast meats tickle your fancy, behold the choice offerings of lightly fried tasties in the counter top “easy bake”. Lose yourself in the kaleidoscopic array of fresh baked sweet breads and cookies. What are those cone shaped honeydripper treats? What smells so good? I’ll be damned- is that Ronald Reagan!

The Monaraca de los Cakes’ southern exposure to California sun gives us the warm glass light I crave in the A.M. Sunny up to las mesas, sitting by the cake lockers. At home in the neighborhood he lived in as a kid, mi cuñado, José, tells us he remembers all the birthday, wedding and baptism cakes “La Monarca” produced, along with beefy 1/2 sandwiches and bocaditos for fiestas around town. We were here with his 90 year old grandmother, Snra. Valle, born in Havana, Cuba. She was visiting from Miami to see her familia. Who else should emerge from the baker’s kitchen to the counter but the jefe baker himself in an immaculate white apron! From after school kids with BMX bikes to viejos way too old to be driving, the crowd at La Gran Via is local, fluid, and keeps everything fresh.

On another day we joined Snr. Rio Kvisto for a café to raise the living from the dead of night. Buenas, caballero. Que tal? Tell us- what is to love about La Gran Via.

Rio Kvisto: A trip to the bakery is inconceivable without staying for a café cubano, which differentiates itself by a brewing process in which sugar is included with the ground beans prior to being subjected to a sweet aroma-extracting jet of steam heat. The potent inky dark fluid that slips down inside of your gullet contrasts with the bright light surounding you, yet pulls you into a black-and-white ying-yang harmony that will help you meet the day.

Another ying yang balance can be found in the white cheese and guayabana (aka guava) pastries. If you have not had this famous latin american flavor pairing, it might strike you as a bit unusual; but, trust me, this sweet, savory, opposites-attracts, works. Methinks it must have originated by happy accident, like the mythical genesis of another sweet-savory pairing- the chocolate bar famously falling into the jar of peanut butter in the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup commercial.

“¡Tú pusiste queso en mi guayabana!”

“¡Y tú pusiste guayabana en mi queso!”

-two great tastes that taste great together!

Gracias, Rio Kvisto. We also love the pasteles de guayaba. Mind the deliciousness of these demons, and the consistency of their liquid guava jelly filling. Stack away, but if the guava is still thickening, carefull not to tip and spill the fill. These junior pastry pots are also made with cajeta- the creamy caramel mix that also goes by the names of arequipe or dulce de leche, depending on your locale.

There can only be one “Monarca de los Cakes”. If you’d like to look on the brighter side of life and food makes you happy, visit La Gran Via.

For anyone interested in the darker side of life, read Johny Got His Gun, by Dalton Trumbo. Mr. Trumbo worked for 9 years at a bakery in Los Angeles. You may recognize his book as the inspiration for the song One by Metallica. Some of the books most poetic and sensorial passages tell of Johny’s life working at a bakery before the war.

José Martí

6005 W. Pico Blvd. (@ Crescent Heights) ~ Los Angeles, CA 90035 (TACO Guide)

There’s something sleazily sexy about this joint, which earns its local title through embodying our municipality and a trace of its modern culture through a dope neon sign, a tiny little pink facade, and cheap, satisfying fare for the lost angels of Pico-Fairfax. Like a glittering strip-club in an industrial stretch of town or a bare bones strip-mall sushi counter in Gardena, L.A. Burger’s promise of tawdry excess, tempting exposure shrouded in outer beauty, plus homebred talent leaks from the So-Cal soul of this structure featured frequently in films and supermodel photo shoots. Still, like so many mirages under the Hollywood sign, when I go there, I usually get a dude with a cool mustache or some hard-working homie on his lunch break sitting next to me, not Leticia Casta, lucky for her ass.

Things work pretty quickly and easily at L.A. Burger, but does this burger live up to the “Best Burger in L.A.” boast found on its banner, and can L.A. Burger’s burger really rep for our sprawling city, earning said moniker rightly on the basis of buns and beef? Upon my first two tries of L.A. Burger’s burger, I was not overly impressed with how it backs up its big mouth. Though yards tastier than the slightly below average burger over at Santa Monica’s Hamburger Haven, which busts similar braggadocio of better burgers, it can’t compete with In N’ Out or 25 Degrees, among other burger brothers ‘pon the scene. Onion rings and fries were even less interesting and the coffee blows too.

After a couple tries of this spot’s namesake entree, I narrowed my first problem towards the increasing trend of burgers coming with their toppings on the bottom, a backward trend found at many citywide burger spots these days. They are called ‘toppings’ for a very specific reason, and it just doesn’t feel right, like the time my ex-girl had me try submission for a change. My second beef is with the beef; it was overcooked, but not hard just a tad crisp, not juicy enough, no love or care put in there. Though it was still more scrut than fast-food, it was not even balanced out by anything stellar in its prep, with an execution nearly as fucked-up as Barzan Ibrahim al-Tikriti’s (rimshot please!). But the burger overall with enough jazz on it, was good tasting, nicely over medium-sized and satisfying, plus convenient and cheap enough for a repeat try or two, just not a significant contribution to the annals of Angeleno burgers as of yet.

In time I started hitting this mutherfucker up for breakfast to satisfy my uncontrollable hunger for chicken ovum. With neighborhood hang Nick’s massive omelets across the street and Petit Sara’s more boughie, expensive, and precious preparations next door, L.A. Burger’s large, buttery masses of harder egg pies, lined above with avocado, flecked with tomato, onion and cheese, and lightly crusted on top, with a little pile of ‘taters, and a side of buttered wheat toast, make the best stick-to-my-ribs-all-day alternative for a fella constantly waiting for checks that are supposedly “in the mail.”

Then one day, in great need and furious hunger, my eye was caught by something previously unnoticed on the drive past L.A. Burger’s saucy lil’ pink box of a storefront…”The Tropical Burger.” How could this not be good? It contains every outer-space ingredient we’ve ever craved on hot food, just like the very pregnant ladies we happen to be at times. No doubt, the Tropical Burger does not fuck around boy, with avocado, egg, cheese, pineapple, and bacon on top of a big beef patty with toppings and fries for $5.95. YAW!

The Tropical Burger will be worth the early, lonely, painful death that it will eventually cause me through a massive cardiac arrest at age 44. Besides the patty coming plump and juicy this time ’round, the thing is just a total, delicious mess. The egg becomes creamy, wrapping the cripsy bacon into a hardcore mash of oily no-good-for-youness that makes the avocado a sinfully silky companion, and the pineapple acts as a tangy lubricant to get it all down your throat. Though the burger sits on top of the traditional ‘toppings,’ it barely matters as the whole thing starts coming apart, with a familiar and savory special sauce helping drown out any stability in its structure, plus the beef wedged between all those crazy add-ons. Each juicy bit of beef intermingles with something else, salty fried pork cracklins and melted cheese over here, then sweet onion, sweeter avocado, and sweetest pina over here. “And ‘ey, what’s this, there’s a little guy in ‘ere?” The burger is alive with flavors both interesting, fun, and complimentary. It is a near orgiastic experience, as well as a good dose of junk.

So L.A. Burger, guys…maybe not the best burger in Los Angeles by our standards, but it still stands as a beacon to classic burgerdom in our fair city. Its architecture and period singage is tre-cool, its tropical burger creation and big, cheap breakfast deals at $4 satisfy the arteries for a year like whale-lard on Eskimo, it all comes fast, cheap, and easy, plus the early-rising man behind the curtain is a total bro. Also, who knows…every once in a while you might get your freezing winter buns warmed by the recently-departed karmic energy of Naomi Campbell’s buh-dunk-a-dunk after the next shoot.

1021 S. Pacific Coast Highway ~ 310-540-5141~ Redondo Beach, CA 90277 (TACO Map)

Redondo is where you find Phanny’s kitchen, which was established in 1982. These people do plenty right, but are especially regarded for cooking up fantastic breakfast burritos, such as the original egg & ham/bacon/sausage special which combines said basic ingredients with potatoes, herbs, salsa sabrosa, and queso. I think the key to the dramatic flavors lies in the herb action skillfully infused into the grilled potatoes, enhancing the papas con un sabor especial that will tingle your buds of taste. Your stomach says the rest– full and completely satisfied.

Steve, pictured below right with Jose, owns and operates Phanny’s with his kind crew. Steve is originally from Thailand. See the Buddha in the back if you need proof. Hi, Steve…

Phanny’s is located on the corner of PCH and Avenue C, a quick flight from the beach esplanade of Redondo, just ambling distance from early morning surf. We love Phanny’s because however you get here, by bike, foot, skate, or car, you are welcomed into a friendly place which always delivers tasty eats. Arcade games, magazines galore, newspaper boxes outside on the sidewalk, sunlight all day. Breakfast, lunch, dinner and, as the to-go menu says, “The healthiest Fast Food in Town.” Sorry, Steve, adopt us or we’re never leaving!

8536 W. Pico Blvd. @ La Cienega Blvd. ~ Mid-City

Nick’s is an amazing coffee shop reminding us of those greasy spoon Greek diners you see out in Queens or which once populated SoCal’s Route 66 (which includes Santa Monica Blvd.). This mean they have a menu about as long as the Bible, with a helluva lot more room for interpretation and personal choice. Pages and pages of egg dishes, burgers, sandwiches and desserts. Covered in pictures of friends and actors no one’s ever heard of, it is a classic in more than just its traditional diner digs.

The love story behind Nick’s, which was established in 1946, is beauitful and heart-breaking. Kathy Love was a waitress there in the 70′s and mid-90;s before succumbing to cancer. Having always wanted to own her own restaurant, Kathy’s husband Alan cashed out his IRA in 1997 to buy Nick’s out of bankruptcy as a gift to her, saying “Honey, YOU are my IRA.” Kathy ran Nick’s as a neighborhood refuge for 7 years (even giving meals away on occasion) and her death brought an outpouring of sympathy and love from armies of neighbors. They even made her a 100 page book of prayers and memories that she slept with under her pillow. Kathy is remembered fondly by many and honored throughout Nick’s, including her picture by the register and a stained-glass window on the doorway that proclaims the place Kathy’s.

Nick’s has it all, but we went there for breakfast, ordering a bevy of omlettes from the “create-your-own” to the machaca omlette and the Kaline Special. The coffee service left a tiny bit to be desired but was decent enough in taste, and the service much more than personable from servers who have been there for an eternity…(CONTINUED BELOW)

The omelettes come huge and heavy, a complete mish-mash of delicious ingredients that stick to the ribs all day. The machaca omelette was best, coming in thin coils of tough, spiced steak that were tangled like a Slinky that needs to be tossed. The machaca was almost like pasta the way it was threaded together. It was a delicious combination, the chewy, salty shreds of beef mixing among the juicy, flavorful grilled onions, soft eggs and softer avocado slices, each bite filling the stringy steak with the more delicate ingredients, and squishing through each bite of the beef

The Kaline Special was a nice combo of tastes, with chopped jalapeno, cilantro, mushrooms, spinach, potato, and avocado tornadoed into an unrecognizable orgy of veggies and eggs. The eggs are not greasy, but firm in the best way, just slightly oily enough to go down easy and completely fill you up. If you make it to the generic beans and rice or sausage on the side, you will not need to eat ’til sundown. Pancakes on the side were fluffy and with a deep taste of sweetness, strawberries on the side a refreshing touch.

Nick’s has a story. Nick’s has a classic sign. But best of all, Nick’s delivers the goods when it comes time for the most important meal of the day, as can be attested to by the loc’ed out locals who pass their mornings here. Next we’ll have to get at that burger. R.I.P. Kathy Love!

Madame Matisse ~ 3536 W Sunset Blvd.~Silverlake~90026 (323) 662-4862

Ever since reading Klaus Kinski’s depraved auto-biography, we’ve had an obsession with the incredible, edible egg. They make their way onto our plate about three times a week and whenever we cross into an ethnic eatery serving egg atop anything we head straight for the ovum like we bore a squiggly tail (like when we spotted Kachapouri, a type of egg-topped Georgian/Russian pizza at Big Mama’s and Papa’s Pizzeria in Downtown).

One recent bleary-eyed and regretful Sunday morning at cornerside Madame Matisse in Silverlake, we skipped the french toast with orange syrup, Belgian waffles, flat iron steak, and broiled salmon (albethem both served with eggs) and dove straight into the omelettes. Madame Matisse cooks up a good one as tasted in their “famous” Omlette Normandie, a fiendish egg-xample of henapple egg-stasy chock-full of shrimp, brie, and bell pepper under a layer of salsa. Eggs dominate much of the brunch menu, in rancheros and benedict stylees and the like.

Total control freaks that we are, Create Your Own Omelette seemed the best option, since one can get as many items as they please at no extra cost ($7.95). We threw goat cheese, onion, bell pepper, spinach, mushroom, and avocado into our mix with about 43 cups of coffee.

Normally omlettes come with stringy flecks of what you desire found inside, but Madame Matisse’s appear as though the ingredients were thrown into a sizzling pan by a 15-year old with the munchies, with three eggs cooked around them and rolled into a burrito-shaped Bob Marley joint. Our giant chunks of veggies keep thier crunch and flavor among vast pools of cheese landmining the soft eggs in a massive mash of grilled and pan-fried pleasure. Ingredients were everywhere; bursting through the skin of the egg, arriving as big as one’s lower arm practically, delivered fast, and with no limit to the savory surprises in each new bite.

Madame Matisse is a small, bare-bones boho cafe which serves well-regarded lunches and dinners as well. It is a cute enough place with a great brunch, but the streetside dining is double-edged, as the traffic on Sunset passing you by can be a bummer. Still, for this level of eggstravaganza, we’ll be back.