Orange County Food Blog

​Thanksgiving's 'round the corner, have you thought about what you're going to feed your fam? How about a tandoori Thanksgiving turkey -- the alliterative alternative. Once again for the thirteenth year, the folks at Clay Oven in Irvine are offering up their, um, clay oven roasted birds for $54.95, which serves six.

It's skinless, marinated in herbs and spices, stuffed with basmati rice, and served with cranberry chutney.

You need to order by Monday, the 23rd and pick it up on Turkey Day between 9 a.m.-3 p.m. And instead of watching football or the Macy's parade, and in keeping with the theme, I suggest Slumdog Millionaire...

Clay Oven, 15435 Jeffrey Rd., Irvine, CA 92618, (949)-552-2851

It's what's for dinner!

​Some of us can still recall the 1970s, when the economy was in the toilet, joblessness was the No. 1 concern and distrust of anything coming out of Washington, D.C., was at an all-time high.

Sound familiar?

The media is those days were filled with stories about the dire measures the suddenly new poor were undertaking merely to survive. This was especially true of senior citizens and those tossed out of work. Turns out Iggy Pop was not the only one living on dog food. And so, a tinge of nostalgia shot through former Disco Dans who caught the following headline on ocregister.com: "Free Pet Food for Jobless and Seniors."

Let's hope it's the moist variety 'cause grammy and home-builder Bob choke on the dry.

Photo by Edwin Goei

​It's a long, long way from Garden Grove to New York's Lower East Side, but Young Ja Chun's kim chi had made the trip and was featured by The New York Times in a short but sweet article.

Photo Courtesy of French 75

​Korean tacos are one thing. But French tacos? C'mon! Don't we have enough reasons to make fun of the French already?

"Le Taco Tuesday": That's what the folks at Culinary Adventures' French 75 are dubbing their latest promotion. With this development, I think, we're finally seeing the honest-to-goodness living incarnation of the term gabacho taco.

​This just in from someone who spotted the Korean BBQ taco-spewing Kogi truck near the Barnes and Noble in the Orange Town and Country center across from Mainplace Mall in Santa Ana:

"There was no one there before the truck pulled in the parking lot around lunchtime, but as soon as it stopped there were 40 to 50 people already in line--and they weren't even ready to serve yet. People were coming out of everywhere, from the bushes, jumping out of cars. It was a real spectacle.

"The operators of the four or five restaurants immediately surrounding the parking lot have to be pissed. They were totally empty after the truck opened up."

Had a great meal at Wasa Sushi at the Bluffs, Newport Beach, on Saturday night. The mall location is pretty uninspiring, as is the shouty 'WE'RE OPEN' sign in the window, but once you're inside the diminutive space it's a different story.

The sushi excels, but the main courses lack inspiration. Put it this way: salmon teriyaki is about the most interesting choice on the short list. Very good it is too--a great-quality slab of fish, served over green beans and surrounded by an elaborate swirl of sauce--but it's the kind of thing you could cook yourself at home.

By contrast, the choice of appetizers is lengthy and appealing, from rock shrimp with spicy creamy miso sauce (delectable) to wasa fried chicken (like spicy chicken nuggets, only made with real chicken). And kudos for including a full page of vegetarian options.

They've also made an effort with the desserts... Next time I'll save room for the green tea cheesecake (OK, it's hardly the only restaurant that offers it, but, even so, at least it's not yawn-inducing green tea ice cream).

One other minor criticism: the tables are a tad close together. At least it gave me the chance to see what everyone else was eating, and, seemingly, enjoying. (Note to guy at next table: top marks for bringing your date here, but dumping piles of salt and pepper onto your rice is not going to impress her!)

It was about 10 after midnight Sunday Morning when the mysterious Ben Dayhoe and I descended into his lair and cut a short-rib Kogi BBQ burrito for the two of us to split. We had spent two hours on the sidelines of the famed taco truck, which was dishing out its Korean-style Mexican food from the parking lots of the Santiago Street Lofts in SanTana, where Kogi had set up for the night. I actually had the second spot reserved for me by Dayhoe's neighbor, but had to give it up as I forgot that the Network of Arab-American Professionals' Orange County chapter invited to me speak at their banquet about the similarities between Mexis and Middle Easterners. After finishing the speech and talking to attendees about how to detonate a dirty nuke (kidding! The most scandalous subject was KLSX-FM's 97.1 idiotic format change), I rushed out and arrived at Kogi's around 10pm, only to find a long line and the news they had cut it off.

Damn! Dayhoe, I and a tall Mexican from Jalisco decided to stay until the bloody end and beg for scraps. The Jaliscan and I tried to bribe Kogi's Mexican workers with beers and curse words, but they refused (take that, Know Nothings! Honorable Mexicans who don't succumb to bribes!). At one point, I even took out a $20 bill from my wallet and prepared to offer it to anyone who would give me their burrito, but I thought better--surely, no burrito could be worth $20?

But, after eating the Kogi burrito (Dayhoe finagled the last one of the night through means I'm not at liberty to disclose, although let's say a quick dash away from the truck was involved), consider me a Kogi acolyte. The main consensus from those I talked to who ate the burritos, tacos, and other Kogi treats in the Santiago Lofts parking lot was that, while the food was excellent, it wasn't worth waiting in line for hours. Like hell it wasn't: the burrito has the potential to be the greatest Mexi-Asian fusion since the china poblana dress.

I say potential because, while the Kogi burrito was one of the best I've ever tasted (sweet kalbi meat heavy on a toasty flavor due to sesame seeds, crunchy kimchi-styled roughage), there is much room for improvement. Primeramente, the burrito is currently more Korean than Mexican. They claim to put in a salsa, but I felt no heat. Amp it up; Mexis and Koreans love the burn. While the lettuce and cabbage were wonderful, it didn't pucker the lips like a great kimchi can; again, Mexicans and Koreans adore their pickled products. No rice? A sin. And the one weak link of the Kogi burrito is the flour tortilla--not cooked long enough to create the perfect medium between soft and crunchy.

Would I wait hours in line for the chance to eat at Kogi again? Ne ("Si," in Korean). I have a lot of reading to do, and a couple of hours will let me kill that stack of Harper's and Simpsons comics in my bedroom. The payoff is great, and there's still a whole menu to discover other than burritos obtained under bizarre circumstances. Kogi obviously doesn't need any advice right now, what with their masteful Twitter campaign, obsessed fans, and mucho media attention. But if you follow my advice, Kogistas, you can get the wabs of the world instead of mere foodies, hipsters, college kids, and pochos--and then, you can truly conquer California.

Show

Something interesting and sort of food-related is happening at Code Restaurant in Newport Beach. 

I met Cathy and Elliott Pavlos, architects-turned-restaurateurs, and owners of Irvine's Lucca café and deli, during their Wine and Cheese Pairing 101 at Bloomingdales on Saturday. I had been envisaging a low-key gathering of shoppers and foodies (not that they're mutually exclusive, I hasten to add), but when I sidled up 15 minutes into the session I quickly realized that it was a more serious event, with seating, big flat-screen TVs with direct feeds and earnest-looking gourmets making notes. By the end I was expecting an exam.
 
For those of you who missed the event and never know what kind of cheese plate to assemble, some crib notes: 1) It's best to serve cheese in odd numbers eg three or five kinds for a small group, 2) Aim for 1 to 2 ounces per person, and 3) Mix it up: try serving a cow, a goat, a sheep and a blue--or a soft, a semi-soft and a hard.

Passing on the wine (I've never been able to drink in the day), I dived straight into some delightful cheeses and breads--a snapshot of the weekly changing selection served at Lucca, which includes some laudably obscure varieties.
 
They were all divine, but my tastebuds were really tickled by the award-winning Cocoa Cardona, an aged goat cheese made by Car Valley Cheese, a century-old, family-run creamery in Wisconsin. I knew the state was a huge producer of cheese (in fact, it's the country's biggest), but this particular variety had passed me by. Incredible, seeing as it combines two of my favorite things.

It may sound sickly, but it's not--although small doses are best. To make the Cocoa Cardona, a small amount of cocoa powder is rubbed onto the rind, creating a thin but discernable layer that contrasts brilliantly with the bite of the cheese.
 
And what better way to get rid of the awful dilemma at the end of a meal: cheese or dessert? Have both in one go!

But don't take my word for it--if you have a spare eight minutes, check out this clip of the guys at Gimme Something To Eat "reviewing" the Cocoa Cardona in what seems to be a cinéma vérité version of Beavis & Butthead.
 


So, where to buy this gift of the gods? Cathy and Elliott sell it, along with many other cheeses and charcuterie, at Lucca's deli.

They get their cheeses from the Aniata Cheese Company in Vista, San Diego County (which supplies her with the Cocoa Cardona) and Cheese Works West in Alameda, near San Francisco.
 
But, seeing as those two distributors only sell to retailers, Cathy suggests Trader Joe's, Whole Foods (if you have the budget) or--wait for it--Costco. I initially chuckled at this (as did she), but it turns out they do have some pretty good artisan selections. No Cocoa Cardona currently, but the very helpful staff at my local (Fountain Valley) store did tell me it occasionally shows up as part of their "Cheese Roadshow".

Yes, folks, Cheese Roadshow!!!

Just got late breaking word about Kogi. Because of troubles with the Lakewood police, they are changing their location to Buena Park tonight:

9 p.m.-12 a.m.

Corner of Fresca & Valley View, one block east of Orangethorphe!!!!

Also, a reminder: be nice, people! Don't cut, don't fight, and be respectful of the rules. Lines will be long, but don't give the cops a reason to bust up the party again.

UPDATE: There was a last minute location change to Santa Fe Springs, logged around 10 p.m.

Tune in tomorrow evening for my minute-by-minute report of my night following the Kogi truck.

George's (Santa Ana) is a local fave of ours, not just for the decent Thai food but also for the counter-side eating (complete with corner TV) and ice-cold Singha beer. Plus which, portions are always big enough for two meals (dinner, plus lunch straight from the fridge the next day).

But then there's the one-to-ten spiciness scale for the entrées, which can be baffling for first-timers--or even regulars, for that matter.

While we do know people who have ordered "Ten Plus" and survived to tell the tale--albeit with tears streaming down their cheeks--we're not prepared to go down that route. We know how a chef's mind works: challenge them and they will make you pay.

On the other hand, if you go any lower than a five you might as well be eating Cream of Wheat.

So here's our solution: ask for a six every time. Whether it's a curry, a special (such as pork with southern curry fried rice, which we enjoyed recently), or a pad thai, number six always delivers, providing just the right amount of heat (meaning, for me at least, not too much).
 
Knock on wood, it never fails us.

George's Thai Bistro I, 3732 S. Bristol St., Santa Ana, (714) 979-8366; George's Thai Bistro II, 1450 Baker St., Costa Mesa, (714) 708-2339

Okay someone at Sapphire in Laguna Beach is definitely trying to get my attention.  How else to explain the fact that for a recent press release that I'm sure a lot of food journalists (and accidental ones like me) got, there is Indonesian food on the menu!

At first, as I was scrolling through the list, I stifled a yawn.  Eggs benedict for a Mother's Day brunch?  Ho-hum.  

Sure, they called it "A Study of Eggs Benedict" -- a seemingly knowing nod that they understand it's as overplayed as chocolate in heart-shaped boxes for Valentines -- but that still doesn't make it not boring.

Then, reading further, I encountered it, the last item: Indonesian Beef Sate, served with Nasi Goreng, Fried Egg and Peanut Sauce!!

If I didn't already adore Sapphire for being one of the most innovative and truly market-inspired restaurants in O.C., I'm now in awe of them.  Of all the foods from all the cultures in the world they could've chosen to add to their brunch, they chose Indonesian -- a cuisine represented here by only one other restaurant (Warung Pojok).

Now, I'm not going to get all nitpicky, because this is the kind of thing I'd like to encourage.  But as an Indonesian, I do need point out something to those who might opt for the dish.

Sate (which I give Sapphire props for spelling correctly) is usually just served with white rice or compressed rice cakes with peanut sauce.  It's marinated beef skewers (yep, pronounced like Thai satay) and you won't usually see nasi goreng with it, which is just a general Indonesian term for "fried rice".  Nasi goreng is dish all to itself, usually with the lacy, oil-fried, sunny-side up egg.  So having the the two items together is the equivalent of serving hamburgers with pizza as one dish.

But then, come to think of it, why not?  You get TWO Indonesian dishes in one order!

For more details on the $55 per person, 3-course brunch menu, click below:

I raved about the samurai burrito at Wafu of Japan last month; here's another Japexican creation from this small, delicious eatery: jalapeños stuffed with spicy tuna.

No need to buy Tums. The chilies that Wafu's chefs use are of the shishito variety, more piquant than fiery, while when has anyone ever broken a sweat over spicy tuna? But this combination, deep-fried, serves as one appetizer that sparks multiple orders because everyone wants to feast on a platter to themselves.

Wafu of Japan at 320 Bristol St., Ste. G, Costa Mesa, (714) 641-7321. And now, a Japanese man in Mexico!

Spent most of last week in Dallas, where I only had to eat once to match my needed calories for the week by gorging on a chicken-fried steak (my Facebook status update after the momentous event: "Gustavo Arellano ate chicken-fried steak in Dallas yesterday. Mmm...breaded-beef-smothered-in-gravy-on-top-of-mashed-potatoes-with-creamed-corn bliss..."). I hadn't had breaded meat so exquisite since the last time I visited Paul's Coffee Shop in Fountain Valley for their chicken-fried chicken...and then I visited Nory's in Anaheim again to eat their chicken a la milanesa.

Nory's is a much-written standard in these pages, it's three outposts (in Anaheim, Stanton, and Lake Forest) lords over the county's Peruvian food scene. I still prefer Picanteria Ariquepena El Misti for my Incan needs, but I stopped by the Nory's branch in Anaheim because I craved breaded meat. Their chicken milanesa was as epic as any Texan chicken-fried steak, but in a different scope: while the chicken-fried steak I had was huge and thick, Nory's version was pounded to the thinness of a magazine, which meant the cutlet spread to the size of--I kid you not--a Frisbee. The milanesa's crust shone like fried chicken but tasted like milk instead of lard; the poor bird, meanwhile, still retained good flavor but just couldn't compete with the breaded exterior's greatness. Wash it down with chicha morada. Repeat. Peruvian chicken milanesa ain't no chicken-fried steak, but at least Peru didn't inflict Dubya on us.

Nory's Restaurant, 933 1/2 S. Euclid St., Anaheim, (714) 774-9115.

A couple of weeks ago, I raved about Los Hermanos Lonchera Sin Fronteras, a taco truck run by two pocho brothers from the 909 who nevertheless can beat the wabs at the game of tortas, bacon-wrapped hot dogs, and tacos. Now, like the good Mexicans that they are, they ripped of Kogi BBQ; you can track them on Twitter, where they leave status updates on where they'll show up with their creations. Today, until 2 p.m., at the Bowers Museum, tomorrow on the corner of Main and Buffalo streets in SanTana from 12:45 p.m. until two in the tarde. One thing Los Hermanos have yet to incorporate into their Twitter updates, however, are the specials of the day. Already, I've feasted on yummy, if too-thick, ceviche, amazing fish tacos (fried on the outside), and a hybrid of chile con carne/picadillo enlivened with green salsa and mint that passed the Mexican mami test. 

If you've wondered why all the holler about veganism, there is a way for the bi-niverous to check out this alternative dining lifestyle: attend a meeting of the Orange County People for Animals (OCPA) Veggie/Vegan Luncheon/Dinner Club, whose next meeting is 1 p.m. Sunday at The Secret Spot, 3801 Warner Ave., Ste. B, Huntington Beach, (562) 592-4494.

Don't get your lettuce in a bunch, Mickey D: The Secret Spot is a non-vegetarian restaurant but also "Ovo, Lacto, Vegan-friendly." So you can order vegan options as burritos or pancakes. Indeed, part of the reason OCPA is frequenting the joint is to push the owners into offering even more vegan choices by showing non-meat, non-poultry, non-dairy, non-seafood eaters spend money, too.

The Veggie/Vegan Luncheon/Dinner Club meets the first Sunday of each month at different vegetarian/vegan restaurants. Some times it is dinner, some times lunch. Who knows, you could be so won over that you'll want to participate in the May 17 Veggie Pride Parade in New York? You know what they say: once vegan, never, er, meat-again.

Spring may have sprung, and Michelle Obama may be receiving bountiful media coverage for her new White House kitchen garden, but Orange County has its very healthy-food hero in the form of local movie producer and director Carrie Gallison.

Gallison recently completed Orange County Treasures: The People's Farm, a 23-minute documentary that chronicles the history of South Coast Farms (the oldest working farm in OC) and the people of San Juan Capistrano, who helped stop it from becoming "another strip mall casualty".

When researching the film, Gallison traced the history of the farm right back to the 1800s, interviewing former SCF residents such as Rita Nieblas, who was born on the farm in the early 20th century.
 
Part of the documentary was shot at Avanti Café in Costa Mesa (winner of the OC Weekly's Best Restaurant award in 2008). In addition to favoring South Coast Farms produce in its cooking, Avanti is a pick-up point for CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) members.

All that filming must've worked up an appetite: according to Gallison, Avanti's owners Tanya Fuqua and Mark Cleveland "fed me and my crew yummy organic meals and even sent us home with bags full of great food." Nice work if you can get it!

A free screening of the documentary is being held this Thursday, March 26, at 7:00pm at the San Juan Capistrano Community Center, 25925 Camino del Avion, San Juan Capistrano, (949) 493-5911. DVDs will also be available. To see the trailer, CLICK HERE.

Catch up with Garrison's future plans--which include more in the Orange County Treasures documentary series--on her website.  

We always like to hear that a new independent, non-chain coffee house is going to open--especially when it's an award-winning, community-minded, eco-friendly one.

So the unveiling of a second location of award-winning Kéan Coffee is good news indeed. Does that make it a chain? I think not, although owner Martin Diedrich was the founder of Diedrich's coffee. In fact, the "new" site in Tustin was previously a Starbucks, and, before that, a Diedrich's. What goes around comes around, as they say.

Update: Martin confirms that they had their soft opening today (Monday, March 23) and that business was good and customers keen--or should that be Kéan?

Full report later this week...

Kéan Coffee, 2043 Westcliff Drive, Suite 100, Newport Beach, (949) 642-5326; now also at: 13681 Newport Avenue, Suite 14, Tustin, (714) 838-5326

Dig into some delish-sounding Irish-themed comfort food at the lounge at Charlie Palmer, South Coast Plaza, on Tuesday, March 17. Chef Amar Santana will be showcasing ingredients traditionally associated with the Emerald Isle, including the requisite cabbage, corned beef and potatoes, but he's also adding Cashel Blue cheese and Bushmills Whiskey into the mix. Not all in the same dish, of course--that would be hideous.

The special dishes are:

Kelly Eisenberg Corned Beef and Cabbage, Fresh Horseradish Cream, Purple Potatoes

Harp's Beer Battered Fish and Chips, Olive Oil Rosemary Potatoes, Tarragon Tartar

Guinness Braised Short Ribs, Champ Potatoes, Cashel Blue Cheese

Braised Lamb Shepherd's Pie

Sticky Toffee Pudding, Caramelized Pears, Bushmills Whiskey Ice Cream

And, because this is Ireland we're talking about, a complimentary glass of Harp or Guinness is also thrown in.

Bang goes the diet--again.

Forget Guinness on St Patrick's Day--it's such a cliché. Instead, this year, knock back the beer in honor of St Veronus, patron saint of Belgian brewers (I'm not making this up).

This Saturday, March 14, from 2-6pm, the Bruery, a small independent brewery in Placentia, is laying on Belgian snacks (including waffles) along with its Belgian-style brews. It'll also be serving its new Melange No.3, a blend of three bourbon barrel-aged beers that's a whopping 15% abv.

We've not yet had a chance to visit for one of the tastings (which are held on Friday and Saturday afternoons), but we have sampled the brews offsite, as they're sold at BevMo! (among other stores) and are also on the menu at select OC restaurants.

Suffice to say, there's a reason the beers are garnering a large following. The inclusion of unusual ingredients such as lavender and chamomile means the finishes are complex, but they're still highly drinkable (that said, we recommend the Saison Rue for novices). There are also special releases throughout the year. All the beers are 100% bottle conditioned, unfiltered and unpasteurized.

The dedication behind the set-up is impressive, too. It's owned by the Rue family (hence the name), and has a regularly updated blog and Facebook page with hundreds of fans. The winners of its home-brew contest even get to see their recipe made onsite.

Let's hope they don't take the Belgian theme too far this Saturday: remember Plastic Bertrand?

I eat Brussels sprouts precisely once a year. On December 25, to be exact. I know they're good for me, with their fancy schmancy vitamin A, vitamin C, folic acid, fiber and sinigrin (the last two are believed to protect against colon cancer).

But, yet, despite their impressive credentials, I could take or leave them - and leave them I do.

Nonetheless, I'm sometimes tempted to try the ole sprouts-bacon-breadcrumbs combo, especially when the recipe comes from none other than Nancy Silverton, famed founder of LA's La Brea Bakery (and now co-owner of Osteria and Pizzeria Mozza).

Silverton, along with fellow celebrity chefs Cat Cora and Marcus Samuelsson, recently lent her name and recipes to the Signature Kitchen, a new upmarket open-plan café at Macy's Home Store in South Coast Plaza.

An unlikely setting for such a stellar cast, perhaps, but, judging from what we've tried, it's well thought-out, affordable fare, whether you're hankering for a simple grilled cheese sandwich (Silverton), a BBQ platter of pork, beef or smoked chicken (Cora) or a mini Kobe burger with truffle aioli, washed down with an addictive frozen chocolate custard milkshake (Samuelsson).

But back to the healthier stuff: the sprouts. Be sure to try the recipe soon, as they're out of season in the next few weeks. It's simple to follow, and although the poshest ingredient required is sherry vinegar, it's bound to impress your guests. Indeed, according to Silverton, one serving is never enough.

One thing's for sure - I never had 'em like this at Christmas.

For the recipe, which can also be found in the Great Gatherings: Star Chefs Entertain at Home cookbook, CLICK HERE.

I'm always in favor of the underdog, or at least giving them a shot, and, when it comes to eating out, that basically means anything that's not a chain.

That's why it was nice to discover a new tea shop in Brea. The nearby Starbucks had closed anyways (it's about to be replaced by a branch of Yogurtland--because there aren't enough froyo shops, seemingly). And the Seattle's Best Coffee inside the local Borders is perennially overrun with students who take root with their textbooks and laptops and small drinks. I know I'm sounding old, but, really, do they need to commandeer the whole café section for hours on end?

So, while trying to find an alternative, I was happy I stumbled upon Midastee, an independent tea house.

Inside the entrance is a display of tea canisters and tea sets (available to buy), while most of the wood-floor premises is taken up by tables covered with white and burgundy tablecloths. Photos of tea paddies decorate the pale green walls, and classical music plays in the background. It's instantly soothing.

The menu is encyclopedic, covering more than 100 varieties of tea, mainly from Taiwan, China and India. There are descriptions, but the charming owners are happy to give further explanations if necessary. So when I asked for something 'similar to English Breakfast Tea', the waiter should have cried. Instead, he steered me toward the Lychee Tea. I'm glad he did: it was sweet yet refreshing (and--other than the fact it's also a black tea--not a lot like English Breakfast Tea, unless you usually take yours with two sugars).

Individual pots of tea, which provide several cups' worth and are served on mini trays, start at just $2.75.

There's a food menu too, but--it pains me to say this--the sandwiches are overpriced. They're lovingly prepared and presented, and come in generous portions, but still not worth $7.45. The chicken variety, consisting of four lightly toasted half-sandwiches filled with chicken, mayo and chopped onion and green bell pepper, was fresh and zingy. Accompanying it was a bouncy mound of salad in a light Asian sesame seed dressing. There's also a soup of the day ($4.95), a couple of varieties of cake ($4.55/$5.55), and an afternoon tea spread ($15 per person or $17.50 if split between two), which sounds like it could feed an army, featuring sandwiches, cream puffs, cookies, cake, brownies, fruit and egg rolls (!).
 
And if your tea ceremony skills are getting a little rusty, book a lesson in Cha Tao, during which you're taught about the categories of tea, the process of tea manufacture, the art of drinking and serving tea, and how to brew it. It's $12 per person (minimum three people), plus the cost of teas.

Overall, though, Midastee is really a place for a soothing pot of tea and some peace and quiet.
 
But should your itchy fingers get the better of you, it also has WiFi.
 
Just don't tell the students.

Midastee Tea House, 912 E. Imperial Hwy., Brea, (714) 256-1618

Not a moment after the first ever Orange County Restaurant Week winds down (it ends this Saturday, March 7th, after a one week extension), another "Restaurant Week" waits in its wake. 

Not me. But its quality is something I wonder about every time I pass by the OC steamed hams icon. I've seen the Carl's Jr. truck in action, eaten at an In-n-Out version, and virtually live at taco truck. But I've only seen the TK truck in person at their Costa Mesa location, loading up to service some weekend party no doubted hosted by smart folks. However the experience is, I'm sure the burgers remain as delicious as at their brick-and-mortar locations: egg bun, sweet meat, with a special sauce somewhere between Thousand Islands and ranch. Just ate one today, and now that the Weekly world headquarters is back in Costa Mesa, will be eating there much more frequently. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally try something other than their burgers.

TK Burgers, 2966 Bristol St., Costa Mesa, (714) 662-2572; other locations listed at tkburgers.com.

As a young cabrón, I loved nothing more than to gorge on AM/PM hot dogs, to unwrap each from its foil and pile on onions, relish, chili, mustard, and jalapeños. For nostalgia's sake, I bought two on the way back from Los Angeles last week, at an AM/PM-Arco hybrid off the I-5 Freeway South Carmenita Road exit in Santa Fe Springs. Isn't it funny how memories warp the truth? Too much salt inside each processed wiener and crappy chili made for an unpleasant taste, and while the bun maintained its structural integrity under the weight of the toppings I crammed inside, they just didn't compare to what they sell at PCH Hot Dogs or Jerry's Wood-Fired Grill. Even at two for $2. You're better off boiling Farmer John's franks and rolling them around a bit in dirt.

Nevertheless, I'll return to this location again and again. See, this is one of the cheapest places to find gas in Southern California I've yet to discover, almost always at least a nickel less than Orange County's lowest prices at any given moment. Better yet, the gas station is right off the freeway exit and entrance, meaning you can pop in and out really quickly. Finally, a reward for having to endure the hell that is Los Angeles!

AM/PM Arco, 13460 E. Firestone Blvd., Santa Fe Springs, (562) 404-1018.

It's back to school for the kids at Orange Coast College, which includes its culinary students, and we all know what that means: Orange Coast College's Captain's Table, the restaurant that functions as a lab and training class for the aspiring chefs, will be open for the Spring Semester. O.C.C.'s Captain's Table.  2701 Fairview Road, Costa Mesa, CA 92628, (714) 432-5876 Ext. 22

I've always taken pride in the fact I have no cavities, but that could change if I pay many more visits to Campitelli's in Brea. Every time I walk past, something draws me inside. Is it the sweet smell emanating from the interior, conjuring up images of a granny out the back, lovingly crafting her confections? No--there is no such smell. But there may well be a granny, given that this is a family-run company.

And it's nothing to look at from the outside, just an average sandwich shop (selling average sandwiches, I might add).

It's the cookies, pure and simple. Campitelli's has built its reputation on them, and I can see why. One bite and I was hooked. And at $1.25 a pop (or $12.95 for a dozen), I can afford to be.

There are around a dozen varieties. They're all addictive, but the winners are undoubtedly the toffee and the macadamia nut with white chocolate chips, both crammed with top-quality fillings. The oatmeal raisin and the more unusual chocolate chip walnut are also pretty good, while the peanut butter has the perfect salt-to-sweet ratio. The cinnamon sugar, with no filling, is pure unadulterated stodge. Heaven.

Texture-wise, they're soft--some might say too soft, in which case a half-hour in the fridge does the trick. Just don't leave them there over a long weekend by accident (a hypothetical situation, of course)--they'll be rock hard when you return.

In a world gone franchise crazy, it's refreshing to see this kind of place surviving.

Campitelli's, 924 E. Imperial Hwy., Brea, (714) 990-2869. Also at 5557 E. Santa Ana Canyon Rd., Anaheim Hills, (714) 974-2884

One of my favorite columns after Savage Love is The Straight Dope, a decades-old column presided over by Cecil Adams in Chicago. Short description: Adams answers ANY question about ANYTHING. Recently, he branched off and began a separate column focusing solely on the Windy City. The latest installment deals with the lack of Chicago's homegrown Italian beef sandwiches on menus across the United States, at least as compared to other regional sandwiches with national followings like French dip sandwiches, Philly cheesesteaks, and gyros.

Adams' answer, however, is weak: using the example of Philly cheesesteaks, Adams writes, "Whereas any knucklehead can throw some chopped steak, onions, and what have you on the grill and douse it with cheese, to make a true Italian beef you need precision-crafted  materials, preparation of which requires, no disrespect, an IQ of more than 1. Which is to say, if Italian beef is to spread beyond Chicago, fans of the sandwich can't simply expect outlanders to come up with imitations, which would doubtless be pathetic. They need to bring the product to the world."

In other words: if you ain't from Chicago, you can't do the beef, a ridiculous assertion in our region, a world where Mexicans make sushi and Dexter Holland can create a salsa that bests the efforts of most wabs.

Then, Adams gets stupid.

You can tell a lot about a Vietnamese eatery after a few spoonfuls of its phở--the delicate noodle staple soup made in a dozen slight variations. If you've had good phở (subtle, potent broth, the right balance of dark chicken meat or thin beef strips and/or tripe, and a garnish blend that includes lime, scallions, cilantro, basil, bean sprouts and sliced, raw jalapeño peppers), then you know how much bad phở there is out there in the world. Bad phở--watery, uncomplicated, forgettable, is easy to make and too easy to find. But good phở--complex, rich, addictive--is infinitely more difficult to track down. When I stopped by 828 Phở recently, a new and one of very few Vietnamese restaurants in Santa Ana, I said a little prayer, and hoped for magic broth.

A perfect, or near perfect, bowl of phở, a friend once told me, should first be judged by the quality of its broth. I've paid close attention ever since and have continually found that a phở's broth unerringly sets the tone for the experience. It doesn't matter how much basil or cilantro you ply your soup with--if the broth is bland and unfeeling (missing subtle hints of free-range meat and coriander, smoky ginger and onion), nothing will rescue the soup.

Two weekends ago, my cousin treated me to the Vic Darchinyan-Jorge Arce boxing match at the Honda Center for my birthday. He scored club-level seats and also invited me to eat whatever I want. I had just treated him to Mariscos Licenciado #2 just up State College Boulevard, so I contented myself with a Kobe beef hamburger and fries.

For the fight, everyone sitting in the club-level seats could flag down an usher, who would take their order and bring back food from a restaurant exclusive to the club level. I'm not sure if this option exists for other events, but the restaurant is somewhere on that level (don't ask me for the name, because I was too pissed off about Arce's humiliating defeat at the fists of the Australian Armo to take notes). What I can report is that the fries impressed in a way few fries do. I'm not a fries guy; whenever I order them, I tend to drown my batch with mustard, jalapeños, and whatever hot sauce I may have carried with me that day. But the Honda Center's club-level fries needed no condiments: salted perfectly, with a bit of chili powder; thick, long, strips of tasty potato. Don't bother with the nachos, which my cousin ordered, and stick with those great fries.

The Kobe burger, on the other hand? It tasted just like the complimentery burger Continental Airlines offers. I enjoy those and enjoyed the Kobe burger, but it doesn't say much about quality when your product conjures up images of airline cuisine.

Honda Center, 2695 E Katella Ave., Anaheim, (714) 704-2420