5702 York Blvd, Los Angeles

In a town rife with nondescript strip malls, Galco’s Soda Pop Stop is amongst the most nondescript and strip mally. Its bare bones appearance would never necessarily compel a visitor or local to stop by unless they had inside knowledge that this place is completely awesome (I owe this insight to my friend Shaun and this week’s book pick, LA Bizarro). The soda pop super store has been family owned and operated for over a hundred years: a wild achievement in our world of chain super-stores.

Inside you can find almost every kind of soda pop known to man. Jim guzzled a molasses Root Beer from Rhode Island while Laura and I found bliss in a cucumber soda that the owner told us would change our lives. Not surprisingly, the beer selection is also impressive and they boast quite an array of olde timey candies. Jim dared the Idaho Spud (a coconut and chocolate covered grayish marshmallow that tastes better than I just described it). I was thrilled by a plastic-wrapped tube of just the innards of my beloved Butterfinger as well as the famed (at least in my home) Cup of Gold, a coconut/chocolate cup filled with gooey marshmallow creme: the one thing my mom craved while pregnant with me.

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from Momofuku Milk Bar, 207 2nd Avenue

My cat Tiptoe not only found the delectable crack pie from Momofuku totally irresistible, she was unable to keep away from their tasty Cereal Milk.

We wondered how it was made and according to this interview with inventive pastry chef, Christina Tosi:
“We take corn flakes and toast them and steep them in milk, strain them, and then there’s a very small portion of sugar and salt just to balance it a little bit.”

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9 Doyers Street

Like any good new wave speakeasy, Apotheke is hidden behind a nondescript old Chinatown storefront, down a small windy road (Doyers, one of my favorite streets in the city) and you’d never know it was there unless you were in the know.

Apotheke means pharmacy or drugstore, or a place for the art, practice or profession of preparing, preserving, compounding, and dispensing medical herbs, elixirs or potions. The team and theme here is appropriately medical and the staff plays along with lab coats and a menu that reads like old-timey makeshift healing elixirs.

The space is dark and snugly, but a bit on the contemporary side of its roots as an opium den. The walls are beautifully scruffy brick, the couches look plucked from a Victorian parlor and the bathroom has some quirky copper Fraggle Rock style pipes that are worth taking a look at. But that’s all surface, and none of it matters if the drinks are no good, but whatever it was I ordered (something frothy infused with tea, if I recall) was delicious. Might not be the best place with crowds on a Saturday night but I’d come back for an early drink with ambiance.

Unpasteurized Goodness

If there was one thing our teacher, Timothy Sullivan, wanted us to remember from our recent sake class and tasting it was the words “Nama Sake”. Nama is unpasteurized, and takes on a complex, rich and earthy taste – it reminds me of basements, if you can believe it, in a utterly delicious way. Of course, we were able to find a fine specimen at the acclaimed Bozu, a sake mecca and one of my personal favorite restaurants in Williamsburg. Definitely get sake from a reputable place or if you buy it in a liqour store, make sure it’s in the fridge because it goes bad just like milk.

The wonderful one we tried at Bozu is called Miyasaka “Yamahai 50 Nama” Ginjo Sake. It’s a little pricey, but perfect for a special occasion. As a bonus, lucky readers, (because I’ve already recommended the restaurant here before) below/after the jump I’ve included more photos of the incredible meal including oysters smoked for days in sake in the husk of shrimp. Yummm..

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632 Manhattan Ave

Manhattan Inn is a brand new piano and cocktail bar/restaurant with an impressive decor that evokes a rosy eyed old school New York and deserves a visit to see for yourself considering the low light offered little chance for my camera to capture it. Formerly Johnny’s Cafe, a local bar and restaurant that few of the neighborhood’s hip set would actually step in to, the new space will not continue to deter that crowd with its fancy cocktails, southern and Chinese inflected menu (they’re open for brunch, lunch and dinner) and speakeasy stylings.

We went early on a Saturday but were a bit disappointed to find the grand piano, which is the focal point of the lovely back room, was un-played – it was the only disappointment of the evening, though. The Warsaw Mermaid, made with green tea vodka, sake, creme de violette and lime juice, was pleasant (though too sweet fto consume more than one), so I switched to the Black Eyed Gibson, a tarragon infused delight with a small balsamic onion as garnish. It boasts a nice scent, a none too sweet taste and, dangerously, a clean finish with absolutely no after taste, making it very, very easy to drink. To go with our booze, we opted for the chicken liver pate which was delicious and hearty.

Gothamist and Eater have far nicer photos for you to peruse.

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with Timothy Sullivan, at Astor Center (399 Lafayette)

The one class/tasting I’ve had my eye out for for a while has been a sake class. While I love the stuff, I’ve found that aside from adoring Wakatake, I know next the nothing about it. Well, I couldn’t find a more charming teacher than the effortlessly dapper sake samurai Timothy Sullivan: a blogger (urbansake.com), educator and the all-around Tim Gunn of sake (his advice on soju in midtown karaoke parlors: Don’t do it!).

His class is called The Elements of Sake Part One (part two pairs the beverage with food) and the next one is scheduled for January 13th. It’s an informative two hour introduction to premium (and super premium) sakes and Tim makes understanding the different classifications easy. I can now, with authority, tell you the difference between junmai and junmai daiginjo (it’s all got to do with the mill of the rice).

All of the sakes we tasted were top notch and, along with the great education we received, we got pleasantly tipsy and we got to use an America’s Funniest Videos-type controller to vote on our favorites. There were three (out of the 7 we tasted) that I loved the most: Dassai 50 Junmai Ginjo Nigori (actually my top pick, a cloudy, coarsely filtered sake), Kurosawa Junmai Daiginjo (a close second, really a tie – similar in smoothness and elegance to Wakatake), and the Ohyama Tokubetsu Junmai (crisp, cucumbery and easy to drink) with an honorable mention to the complex (I wrote down my impression as “like being in an earthen basement”) and rare Nama (unpasteurized sake), Narutotai Junmai Ginjo Nama Genshu.

The setting for the class is a sparkling arena with courteous staff and an easy going crowd of students. Go!

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Here's what I said back on January 5th:
Tales of the ill-kept secret Milk and Honey bar, where at one time you could only enter if you had been given the ever changing phone number by an already trusted regular seemed the stuff of legend and had I not known people who had actually went through the hassle of obtaining the number, I probably would have let the famously exclusive Sasha Petraske hot spot remain off my radar and to do list forever.

See, I am not one for hassle and when I heard that they had changed their policy once again to make it where only members with a special key would be able to enjoy the hallowed dim cocktail walls, I knew that Milk and Honey was just a place I'd never see the inside of.

Fortunately for me, though, good friends are among the few who nabbed a key and they were kind enough to invite us there on Jim's Birthday. In a time when “speak easy” is the trend for drinking, this place trumps them all, as it should since it started the whole thing. The entrance is truly nondescript, even a bit sketchy: an unmarked beaten up thick gray steel door in a quiet apartment building, as you walk in you half expect that there's been some mistake and you'll end up in a stranger's living room past the thick curtains.

In fact, the space is not much larger than a living room and the ambiance is minimal: the lights are very dark, the booths are a bit battered and cozy, the music soft. I can't imagine the place would make any sort of real impression on those expecting a level of fanciness for all the secrecy, particularly if those lights were turned all the way up.

But superfluous decoration is beside the point of Milk and Honey, a bar truly and utterly devoted to the notion of substance over style. The experience here is about a civilized environment in which to enjoy perfect cocktails. Plus these expertly cocktails all cost $9; a price which is a steal compared to the $11-13 that absolutely everyone seems to think they can charge these days.

There are no crowds here and to our surprise, no menus either. You simply tell your kind and knowledgeable waiter what sort of drink you fancy and they come back with a custom made concoction. I opted for bourbon, starting with a frothy ginger spiced highball and moving on to a simplified take on the old fashioned. Jim found happiness in his beloved Chicago fizz.

It's a strange place in theory. In some ways it's a stand against the celebrity obsessed, over hyped bar scene. No name dropping or obnoxious behavior is tolerated, but at the same time, it's become an almost uncomfortably elitist corner of the city (in theory). After such a wonderfully pleasant evening there, however, I stepped outside and decided I may just enjoy being an elitist sometimes, so long as it means secret keys that open doors to places like Milk and Honey.

RUNNERS UP:
Voodoo Rootbeer
Agua Frescas
The Richardson
Lion's Tail
Temple Bar

My friend Shaun described the seasonal Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks as, “tasting like ham”. And, if you consider the crunchy sugar coating of some maple hams, in a way he's kind of right. And yet I still enjoyed this uber sweet, once a year kind of drink. It made me weirdly wired and felt like I was doing something mothers wouldn't approve of by imbibing so much sugar in the morning.

Strangely enough, my friend Tony, who rarely drinks, has developed a taste for Long Island Iced Tea: a cocktail that not only includes vodka and rum but tequila, gin and triple sec to boot.

On a recent visit, Tony ordered it in a beer bar, which resulted in a pint glass full of beer-bar-caliber booze, but at the home of our friend Shaun, who can occasionally be a bit of a booze snob, it meant nothing but top shelf all the way.

With rare vodka from Iceland and tequila from even further, the drink was rocking and I couldn't help but snap a photo of their counter full of potent potables that make up this crazy concoction. Funnily enough, the only ingredient that Shaun didn't have was Coke, so he substituted high grade cream soda, which added a yummy dash of vanilla to the drunkenness.