The 20 Things I'll Miss The Least About L.A.

Those moments when that LCD Soundsystem song plays in my head, swapping “New York” for “Los Angeles”

I’m going to miss Los Angeles a lot. Primarily the people, but also the weather, the lifestyle, the food (duh), and so many specific things, which I’ll get into next week. But before waxing poetic on what I love most about this city, it’s only fair to mention what I’ll miss the least. I promise to not be too mean.

Frozen fries. Do you all realize that most of the fries in this town are purchased pre-cut and frozen? There’s nothing wrong with frozen fries; they can be delicious when crisped to gold and dipped in Heinz (and only Heinz) ketchup. But they’ll never be exceptional. And seriously, all your favorite fries in L.A. start frozen—and more often than not, they’re served upsettingly pale. One of the few exceptions is at L&E Oyster Bar, which is precisely why theirs are the best. A New York chef recently told me he wishes fries weren’t on every chef-driven menu—not because he dislikes them, but because in New York, great fries—hand-cut, soaked, blanched, cooled, fried again—are expected, even if they aren’t conceptually essential. There, you can get a fantastic fry every ten blocks. In L.A.? No shot. (I’m not making this up.)

In-N-Out fries are not frozen, but they’re still horrendous! (It’s because they don’t rinse them to get rid of excess starch; they just cut the potatoes, then fry them in sunflower oil.) Shortcuts make for shitty fries!

The scarcity of booze in restaurants. Why is it so hard to get a real drink in this town? Because wine, beer, and spirits licenses are prohibitively expensive and a nightmare to obtain, and it sucks. “Full bar” is the filter I get asked for most, so I’ll leave you with my list: Horses, Damian, Jar, RVR, L&E Oyster, Sal’s Place (when in season), Botanica, the bar at Kato, La Dolce Vita. Save it to your Notes. RIP HLAY :,(

Having to drive all the way to Century City for White Moustache. Eataly has a monopoly on the best yogurt known to man, and it’s not fair. Please, White Moustache, expand your distribution! McCall’s should carry it, for one. So should Bristol Farms.

Parking in Koreatown, also parking at Dudley Market. There goes 30 minutes, and my good mood.

The myth of Sqirl dinner. Will it ever happen?

Subpar service. We all know this is real, and industry folks complain about it constantly. The general belief in L.A. is that there’s a limited pool of passionate, career front-of-house professionals, and that most of the talent has one foot in Hollywood. Maybe that’s why so few restaurants operate with genuine hospitality, and why everyone simps for Houston’s. You know what’s worse than subpar service? Rude service. I won’t name names.

Seeing everyone everywhere, particularly at the Silver Lake Reservoir, Café Telegrama, Maru, the Hollywood Farmers’ Market, Sam’s Place, and L.A. Grocery & Café. I love running into you, truly. But the Eastside can feel like a small town, and some days I just want to take a walk or buy groceries without a stop and chat. The bubble is cozy—and sometimes, it’s a bit much.

Evan Funke’s pedestal. Just because great pasta is hard to find in Los Angeles doesn’t mean one man should be worshipped for it. Also, Mother Wolf is ridiculous, and Funke feels like a grift.

The glorification of old-school restaurants with shitty, expensive food. Dan Tana’s is terrible, Smoke House plays like Disneyland, there’s nothing edible at Colombo’s, and at Musso’s, only the room is majestic (the martinis… are fine). When I’m in the mood for antique charm, I head to Langer’s, The Apple Pan, or HMS Bounty. I’d still like to try Dal Rae!

Prices at All Time, prices at McCall’s. Yes, we all need to get used to spending more on food in this economy. But no, a salad with grilled salmon still shouldn't cost $42. Meanwhile, McCall’s is the only place I want to shop for dinner, but the sticker shock is harrowing. David calls this “getting bent over at McCall’s.”