The 30 Things I'll Miss The Most About L.A.

I’m now crying

Your responses to last week’s letter, The 20 Things I’ll Miss The Least About L.A., were immensely reassuring and filled me with glee. But now it’s time to get a little sappy. This week, the focus is on the things I’ll miss most. I’m upping the number of entries, but capping it at 30 (otherwise, I’d go on and on), and paywalling it halfway through. Here goes.

Fig leaves. God, is there anything more intoxicating than the earthy, coconutty scent of fig leaves on a nighttime walk? Not for me. Los Angeles is punctuated with fig trees—giant ones along the highway, branches tangled with citrus and palm, volunteer saplings sprouting in backyards—and they bring me daily joy. The fruit might seem like the prize, but it’s the leaves I lust after most. Pick them, dry them, blitz them into sugar for pastry, infuse them in milk for ice cream, weave them into craft projects with kids. This is some Adam and Eve shit.

Excellent coffee shops. Maru turns out exceptional espresso drinks. Endorffeine is coffee‑nerd heaven. At Hooked, the art of coffee is alive and well. Kumquat’s cold brew program is next‑level. Wynd is the real deal. And the fig‑leaf latte at Canyon Coffee might be the finest specialty coffee drink I’ve ever had. For the city’s ultimate coffee shop experience, head to How’s It Going to End?—and make it a weekend visit for Molly’s pastries. L.A.’s independent coffee scene is phenomenal.

Bautista dates, JJ’s Lone Daughter hachiyas, Andy’s peaches and plums, Roots’ lettuce, Weiser potatoes (and melons, duh), Vision Sprouts’ walnuts, See Canyon’s apricots, 2 Peas in a Pod snap peas, Tamai strawberries, Wong’s mangoes, Coleman’s herbs, Reed avodados (period)… The frigging produce in this town! We all know it’s exceptional. I feel lucky not only to have tasted these sensational, meticulously grown farm products, but to have filled my fruit bowl and fridge with them over the past four years. If you’re not hitting the farmers’ market and taking advantage of these gifts, you’re doing it wrong. The Santa Monica Farmers’ Market is my personal XIV Karats. I’ll miss persimmon season every year I’m not in California. Right now, I’m eating a Scarlet Halo from Andy’s Orchard and crying (inside).

:)

Valley drives down Ventura. When David and I first started dating and were looking for excuses to spend whole days together, we’d often find ourselves driving down Ventura Boulevard from Studio City to Encino. The old‑timey signage, the tempting lineup of food spots, the calming suburban energy, and the sense that Los Angeles is quietly humming beneath it all are part of the charm. When the nostalgia hits, at least I can put on Licorice Pizza.

Sasha Piligian’s muffins. She also makes superb cakes, danishes, cookies, and scones, but I’m a muffin girl—and Sasha’s seasonal muffins are ace. Right now, you can find her summer‑squash crumb muffin with cocoa nibs and chocolate chunks at Canyon, lil’East Coffee, and a couple of other shops around L.A. In winter, her gingerbread muffin is divine.

Not having to duke it out for reservations. I can count on my two hands the L.A. restaurants with tough tables to nab: Quarter Sheets, Anajak Thai, RVR, Dunsmoor, Pizzeria Sei, Mori Nozomi, the tasting menu at Holbox, Donna’s, Hayato. I’m sure I’m missing some, but it’s pretty nice that most of the city’s great restaurants can be booked a few days out—or walked into on a whim. In Los Angeles, people like to live in the moment more than they like to plan ahead. Even as a planner at heart, I love how this makes for such an approachable dining landscape.

Toilet cover seats. Ok, a weird one. But in Los Angeles, every bathroom, whether in a restaurant, hole‑in‑the‑wall, or shopping mall, is stocked with them. This is important for hygiene! And is simply not the case elsewhere, certainly not in New York, which is unfortunate.

The Grocery Goblin. She calls herself a grocery goblin—because everyone can be one—but at the end of the day,

Vanessa Anderson

is the grocery goblin. Her project, launched and based in L.A., has been a huge inspiration to me. I think of it as a soul sister to The Angel. I’m excited to see where she takes it, hopefully to New York and, undoubtedly, across the globe.

The cheese case at Psychic Wines. I love a good cheese shop, but they can sometimes be overwhelming. At Psychic Wines, though, the team curates a tight selection of five or six cheeses, always all excellent, displayed on the counter by the register. Reilly, Kyra, and the rest of the crew at this Silver Lake shop have both deep knowledge and genuine curiosity about food and wine. Quite simply, they know what’s up.

Balo. I’ve never had a better kombucha than the fruit-based concoctions made by Balo Orozco, who just so happens to be a dear friend. Cherry-fig leaf is my forever favorite, and his cold brew equivalent is dynamite. The shrubs rock, too.

Shimmying pink peppercorn trees, the Jacarandas in June, and fruit trees everywhere. When people ask what I’ll miss most, I think of the trees first. It’s corny, but Los Angeles taught me to notice my surroundings, especially its nature. David gets some credit too (the photographer’s eye). I’m delighted every time I see a pink peppercorn swaying in the sun, the city erupting in lavender as Jacarandas bloom in June, or the trumpet trees along Virgil Avenue bursting into pink in early spring. There are passionfruit vines crawling up fences, and trees heavy with Meyer lemons, Hass avocados, kumquats, Fuyu persimmons, and pomegranates. Now, when I walk down the street in New York, I spot rare fruit trees hiding in plain sight—something I never would’ve noticed before.

A fig tree tickling a palm tree and the pink peppercorn tree in the Mercado La Paloma parking lot.

Angels Gate Park. It’s a park on a hill in San Pedro with an ocean view. You can shoot hoops while gazing out at the deep blue water. I’ve only been once, when David took me, but I think about it often, especially after a stressful week or when I’m feeling emotionally overwhelmed. I think about how it’s just a 45‑minute drive, sometimes more, sometimes less, and how quickly I could be there, breathing easier.

Echigo, my glass box in the sky. And Yama Sushi Marketplace. At Echigo, it’s perfect fish, perfect rice, and an unmistakably Los Angeles energy. I love the way they serve piece by piece, even at a table, so each nigiri is as fresh as it gets. I’ll also miss all three locations of Yama Sushi Marketplace, where the daily‑made rolls and sashimi counter remain some of the best bargains in town.

Koreatown. More often than not, Western Doma Noodles is our first meal back in Los Angeles after a trip. We start with banchan, share a couple of soups, and we’re restored. Funnily enough, Western Doma sits just outside Koreatown and all its wonders. I’ve tried not to take K‑Town for granted, but it’s impossible to not feel like I haven’t taken full advantage of it. My other go‑tos: Borit Gogae, Jinsol Gukbap, Park’s BBQ, Mapo Dak Galbi, MDK Noodles, Surawon Tofu House.

Thai Town. New York has great Thai food, too, much of it concentrated in Elmhurst. But damn, I’m going to miss the strip‑mall cluster that makes up L.A.’s Thai Town, just a ten‑minute drive from my house. A few tricks: At Amphai Northern Thai Food Club, order sai ua, jackfruit salad, nam prik ong, and khao soi gai. Eat an early dinner at Ruen Pair to skip the line, then head to Bhan Kanom Thai for treats. Only do Jitlada with a group of six or more, BYO wine (or drink Singha), and don’t miss the crispy morning glory salad, garlic string beans, or taepo duck curry. At Sapp Coffee Shop, the sleeper hits are the coconut water, pad kra pao, and the Thai omelet with shrimp.