At the Irvine Spectrum, according to this post here on the OC Metblogs. Personally, I've become re-acquainted with the chain's terrific burgers, ever since I moved to Seal Beach and can easily walk to the one at the end of the Seal Beach Pier.....
So you just heard about a vegetarian turkey from Matt Coker, how about an Indian one?
No, not the "Indians" who joined the Pilgrims for dinner in story of the first Thanksgiving. The real Indians! The ones the European mistook the indigenous inhabitants of America for.
Think about it: Indian cooks already do a mean chicken with their tandoor ovens. Why not turkeys?
That's exactly what Clay Oven in Irvine has done, and has been doing for the past 12 years.
Their turkeys are roasted inside a traditional barrel-shaped hot box to a glossy shine outside, moistness inside. The birds sell for $54.95 each. One will feed six amply.
It's stuffed with spiced basmati rice and stripped of its skin before cooking, so it's lower in fat.
Cranberry sauce? They've got you covered there, too: Its included in the form of a chutney.
The catch is that you have only until Tuesday, November 25 to get your orders in. Pick up your bird on Turkey Day between 9 AM and 3 PM.
Clay Oven, 15435 Jeffrey Rd., Irvine, (949)552-2851
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Believe it or not, the Native Foods vegan restaurant in Costa Mesa bustles during the Thanksgiving season, offering a birdless (and delicious) alternative to the traditional turkey dinner. Many OC vegans and vegetarians – and the families that enable their madnesses – order gussied up Tofurky dinners. For fancy-pantsier palates, Native Foods sells the all-organic "Native Wellington": a puff-pastry stuffed with Native Seitan, kale, portobello mushrooms, orange glazed yams, stuffing, caramelized onions and served with shallot mushroom gravy. It costs $54, serves six and arrives frozen; just bake ‘em for about an hour. You can order them through the restaurant or online here.
Many families – or loners – who do not welcome the post-dinner kitchen mess choose to eat at restaurants, and Native Foods’ booths are as jammed as those places that serve turkey, ham and all the trimmings. In fact, for the fourth annual Thanksgiving feast, the Irvine-based Native chain’s “chef executive officer” Tanya Petrovna has whipped up a menu of Native Wellington with Mushroom Shallot Gravy, Willy's Wheatberry Waldorf Salad, Gorgeous Green Salad with Maple Glazed Pecans and Pomegranate Pearls, Polenta Terrine with Butternut Squash and Pumpkin Seed Pesto, Garlic Roasted Mashed Potatoes, Seared Green Beans with Browned Panko, Native Stuffing, Fred's Fabulous Cornbread and Cranberry Orange Relish. Just reading that induces a L-tryptophan coma, but the Natives advise saving room for the dessert tray loaded with Pumpkin Pie with Whipped Creme, Apple Hazelnut Streudel with Vanilla Creme, Sam's Cheesecake with Blueberries and Chocolate Tofu Love Pie. The cost is $45 per person ($20 for children under 12) and if you want your family to sit together it’s best to make reservations for between 2 and 8 p.m. at (714) 751-2151. Otherwise, you’ll have to fight it out for space at the constantly turning over community table for singles and walk-ins.
The restaurant is at the Camp (across from the Lab) at 2937 Bristol St., Costa Mesa. A location also opened recently in Aliso Viejo at 26705 Aliso Creek Road. Call them at (949) 831-1926 for reservations or to order meatless chow.
And know that somewhere a turkey thanks you.
This past summer I gorged on the hotteok from Koo's Catering Truck. I usually took a few back to the house and ate the Korean sweet pancakes as breakfast on Saturday mornings. It went well with a cold glass of O.J.
I loved it so much, in fact, that I chronicled it for our Cheap Foods Issue. Other than the great bargain and the deliciousness of the pancakes, it was a reassuring sight to see the truck parked there every weekend at the Freshia Market parking lot in Tustin.
But as soon as summer ended, the truck was gone.
Or so I thought. Apparently, I wasn't looking closely enough.
Thankfully someone was paying attention. According to Dan Garion of Eat in OC, hotteok can still be had, but "instead of a truck there was a small cart that an Asian man and woman were sitting/standing at waiting for customers."
Read his post here.
I agree with Dan's assessment that perhaps the overhead for the truck was too much to bear. But who needs the truck if the pancakes are still scalding hot and a buck each.
The Pelican Grill at the Pelican Hill Resort is the last place I would think of when it comes to Monday Night Football. After all, this is a valet-parking, ocean-views, uniformed-waiter, white-table-cloth kind of establishment, where the customers are the country-club types, not the average Joe Six-Pack (to borrow a recently heard term).
But that's not stopping Donald Bren and company. They've got two 9'x6' HDTVs that will be tuned to the game and a "Burger and Brews" menu to feed any deep-pocketed sports fans in attendance.
Since this is still Pelican Grill, it won't be your typical pub fare. For their "burgers", they boast the use of Brandt Farm Beef, Norbest free-range turkey, and of course, American Kobe.
Here's a sampling of what'd fill up your gut if you were to go to the Pelican Grill for Monday Night Football:
- Colorado High Mountain Lamb, made with fresh ground Colorado lamb, tomato, cucumber and hummus herb yogurt sauce.
- Ahi Tuna, with #1 grade ahi tuna steak, piquillo peppers, balsamic onions, lettuce and mayonnaise.
- Dungeness Crab Cake, with romaine lettuce, tomato and tarter sauce.
- Surf and Turf made with fresh ground Brandt farm beef, half Maine lobster, sautéed spinach and whole grain mustard sauce.
The coup de grâce is called The Classic Burger Rossini, made with American Kobe, sautéed foie gras and black truffle Madeira sauce. The cost? A cool $50.
Joe Six-Pack might get a beating from Jane Hockey-Mom if she ever saw the tab.
On related news, although The Irvine Company laid off about 100 administrative employees this past August, it's been on a hiring frenzy at the Pelican Hill Resort in anticipation for its opening on November 26. Reports have put the number at about a thousand new hires, and suggest that it will top out around 4,400 by that target date.
We like the Crosby, we really do. We cheered their fight against the idiot SanTana bureaucrats. We like co-owners Chris Alfaro, Phil Nisco and Marc Yamaoka 'cause they always sport a smile and some weird-ass T-shirt (one of their workers was wearing one with Steve Urkel's mugshot--I remember that episode!). Their lair's vibe is happening, the music ever-eclectic, the ambitions lofty.
But in the matter in which I'm concerned with professionally for the purposes of this post--great food in OC--the Crosby is still not worthy of praise.
I visited the downtown SanTana restaurant-cum-hangout space twice last week because milady loves the place, especially their selections of beer and wine. Me? I don't drink swill and rotten grapes, and pined for Johnny Sampson's Maker's Mark across the street at Memphis at the Santora. But the lack of booze is the least of my concerns--the Crosby's menu is too hit-and-miss for me to return, at least for a couple of months while they tighten the menu (though the place has already been open for a couple of months).
The hits: a house salad I never tasted 'cause my gal inhaled it like some do air. Massive pasta bowls with nuance and heft. A Thai vegan wrap (just call it a burrito, will ya fellas?) with a lurking spicy sauce that'll kick you in the end. Some of the best chili in Orange County--and the big bowl is vegan.
The Gary Matthews, Jr.-esque misses: A vegan pizza that was downright disgusting--too many tomatoes, nothing to counterbalance the acidity, an overall mess. A bitter take on bananas Foster--bitter in a dessert notorious for its ostentatious decadence!* One night we went, the waitress took about 20 minutes to bring me a cup of hot water and lemon, and ignored us the rest of the night (in fairness, we experienced a perfect waitress--smiles, service, sweetness--another night). I don't mind rude waiters--hell, that's the service one can expect anywhere in Little Saigon. But at least those folks bug you until you order. The offending Crosby waitress? Nada.
I'll return to the Crosby in a couple of months, because the good is promising. The bad, however, is inexcusable. Not every dish in a restaurant has to be magnificent, but the worst a chef can settle on is "pretty good," not "average" and definitely not what I ate. Hang out at the Crosby, and get drunk off beer and wine until late in the morning. But if you're hungry, go down the street to Memphis--or, better yet, Jason's Downtown.
*Full disclosure: I was suffering from a nasty cold the night I tried this, but my tastebuds weren't that skewed--earlier in the day, I had enjoyed the pad Thai at Bangkok Taste and a koobideh plate at Wholesome Choice, and both tasted how I always remember them--bueno.