I have a story for you. One steeped in peril and anguish.
The last stop on the Los Angeles trip was Tripel.
I had just finished binge watching Top Chef, and my favorite chef, Brooke, owns this joint. I just had to try it! On a map it didn’t seem too far away, but it really was the complete opposite direction of home from Downtown LA. Tripel is located on the coast in Playa del Rey. It’s not even really a restaurant, but a bar that has two shared tables. I hate shared tables. They make my OCD freak out. Unless someone seats me, that makes it easier. It’s possible the only reason I don’t go to Pizza Port in Carlsbad Village is because of the looong community tables. Freaks me out!
I had sort of been eating all day (isn’t that what LA is for?) so I wasn’t hungry yet. I decided a walk to the beach would be in order, it was only a few blocks away.
It was overcast, a little humid, the sun was getting ready to set. It so felt like the beach town I grew up in in San Diego, Ocean Beach. I walked everywhere there, and it always had that same sticky sea air that made your hair frizz up, and the same beat up cars, trucks and other vessels parked in neighborhoods, that had been worn down by the salt air. I will always have a love for those kind of towns. You know the ones…they’re not ritzy at all, but kind of dirty, full of local color and dirty bare feet from walking in the sand back to your apartment. People tell you you shouldn’t walk around alone at night, but this is your town. You know it like the back of your hand, and aren’t afraid of what happens there at night.
(Remember the time Bear Grylls commented on one of my Instagram pictures? Yep, this be the one. Hi Bear!)
Okay so, back to Tripel…I’m sitting with a few other people at the big table, but in the window! That didn’t make it so bad, I could look at the crazy people walking by. Seriously, this girl was wearing the weirdest pink, short, skin tight dress with leopard cowboy boots and I swear she was wearing a wig. Sad part is…she would’ve been cute if she wore a normal outfit.
One of the dishes Brooke made on the finale was the Crispy Pig Ear Salad. I know what you’re thinking…and you are correct. But you guys, the judges just raved about how good it was! RAVED! I ask the waitress about it, she assured me that it was delicious, I must get it. When I tell her of my fear of pig ears (doesn’t everyone have a fear of pig ears?) she claimed that it’s just like bacon, it’s sliced thinly into a crispy delicacy. Fine. Bring it on.
I’m never being adventurous again. Ever.
What’s that you see there? Cartilage, that’s what! I looked at it and grimaced. In fact, I’m grimacing right now, just telling you about it. Be adventurous! Take a bite! They raved about it! So I take a bite.
Ugh, you guys. That’s cartilage! What else do you see? THAT’S PIG HAIR. FROM A PIG. Let’s take a closer look…
I only lasted a few bites. I tried to surround it with the poached egg, but lets face it, poached eggs on salad is kind of gross too, right? Turns out there’s no way to slice cartilage in a way to make it like bacon. It is NOTHING like bacon, because it’s cartilage! It’s the hard thing you pierced when you were 13 by shoving a dull earring through whilst blasting Guns n’ Roses!
Okay, we need to change the subject from hairy, cartilage pig ears to something nicer. How about beer?
Ahhh that’s better, right? You can create your own flight, that was pretty fun. I actually liked a couple. I’m not too much of a beer fan, sorry folks. Here’s some shots from the rest of the joint…
That Turkey Pastrami Melt turned out to be amazing, so that was good I could wash down the you-know-what.
We shall never talk of you-know-what again.