Dinner For Four On The Beach

Duckweiler State Park, Los Angeles - March 21, 2014

I was so very glad to get to Kat’s little cottage in Venice Beach.  Spending time with my kids is so much fun.  I never thought too much about having adult children.  I knew I would love them when they were little but never gave any thought of how we would relate as adults.  Turns out I like my kids even better now that they are adults.  They are all different but the one thing they all have in common is they are all great company.  I simply like spending time with them.  All four of them knock themselves out planning events for me but the truth is I have just as much fun doing nothing – just hanging out.  To gain two days of just hanging out with Kat and, of course, Loo Loo was something to anticipate.

I was also glad to take a break from the Airstream.  The pings not withstanding, the Airstream had served me well.  There are two areas where the old alloyed land yacht doesn’t fill the bill – personal hygiene.  Simply stated – the shower and the laundry. 

A one man shower for one small man

The shower isn’t bad considering its on wheels.  Now that I have the hot water working the shower is more than sufficient.  When you are plugged into a water source the pressure is quite strong.   It’s hot and plentiful.  It’s just the shower is little small.  To say the size of a phone booth is a stretch. I’m not a big guy – 5’ 9”.  There is no way I can stand under the shower.  Instinctively you find yourself squatting down like a beginner in a palates’ class.

The shower head is one of those handheld arrangements attached to the wall. Plus the screw on the bracket that keeps the shower head secure in the wall mount is impossible to tighten.   Combine that with strong pressure and the shower head takes on a life of it’s own.  With no provocation the shower head will just drop down, shooting water only on your feet.  It is just as likely to point to the left

A loose screw

shooting through and out the flimsy shower curtain or spring right, spraying the side of the shower and ricocheting mist all over.   So I end up using the shower head as God intended, as a handheld.  A one handed shower is not my idea of relaxing.

As for the laundry, there is no washer and dryer, so laundry is out.  Even with my minimalist Steve Jobs inspired attire the dirty clothes pile is mounting.  So, I drive to Venice Beach looking forward to seeing my daughter, taking a shower and doing some laundry – in that order.  And a non-frozen dinner would be nice. 

For two nights the Airstream is abandoned.  We dine at Wurstkuche, which bills itself as an “exotic sausage grill,” on Lincoln.  A German beer hall warehouse industrial hip décor combined with a simple menu of unusual sausages, beer and fries.  The perfect antidote!  Kat tops Wurstkuche simply by going across the street  the next night as we head to Baby Blues BBQ, a funky Venice institution that can match any joint in either Memphis or Austin when it comes to great ribs.

Baby Blue BBQ

Wurskuche Sausage & Beer

Kat is busy getting ready for her trip and suffering through an endless series of conference calls she has to endure as johnnie-O contemplates hiring a web site design firm.  I have fun being a fly on the wall listening into the conference calls.  On day three, so she does not have to come up with another great spot or cook herself, I invite Kat, her boyfriend Jon and Loo Loo to dinner at the Airstream. 

“I will handle everything,” I tell her as I slip out of the johnnie-O World Headquarters at 3:00 pm and walk down Wilshire to the Whole Foods.  I am not a total novice when it comes to groceries (I am a Kroger’s guy myself.)  I have been in a Whole Foods before, but I have never been to a Whole Foods alone, hungry (we somehow missed lunch.) and when I am trying to put on the dog for my daughter.   I am embarrassed that I got sucked down the Whole Foods rabbit hole.  Here’s the trap.  Whole Foods sets up their stores to create the atmosphere of a festive street-market with abundant displays of fresh foods, suburb quality, exotic choices and – here’s the rub – astronomical pricing.  Like Wonderland, it’s a fantasy world until you get to the cash register.  Truth is, I made a rookie mistake.  I got Whole Foods confused with Trader Joe’s. –I  know – They are polar opposites with my home based of Kroger set in the middle.  I was plainly beyond my depth.

I was Alice running around wide-eyed in this meat and produce Wonderland, getting this, sampling that, deciding on all sorts of unusual and potentially tasty things.  My exuberance to put together a great meal along with the dazzling selection overwhelmed me, clouding my judgment.  (I even ran around looking for Two Buck Chuck.  I hadn’t come to the realization that I wasn’t in cheap, wholesome Trader Joe’s.  I was in pricey, indulgent Whole Foods.)  Kale & arugula salad, mango shrimp kabobs, Le Gruyére Reserve, 12-month aged cheese from Switzerland and – what the hell – I also tossed a Rogue Creamery Caveman Blue Cheese into the basket along with my French bread and Spanish dried salami.  I was on a roll.

It wasn’t fatal until I hit the meat section.  I never, I mean never, talk to the butcher.  I am strictly a prepackaged meat guy.  As I was standing in front of the meat counter, however, this perfectly nice gentleman said in a friendly matter-of-fact manner, “OK, my friend, what’s it gonna be today?”  “I need three nice steaks,” I replied.  “You want me to pick them out he,” he asked.  “Sure,” I said trying to look composed, but he was setting the hook.  Before I knew what was happening he handed me a butcher paper wrapped bundle the size and shape of a 2 lb. sack of Pillsbury flour.  Same size but this parcel had enough heft that my hand sank under the initial weight which reminded me of an oblong shot put.   That’s when I started to snap out of it, but it was too late.

I checked out at the counter with another efficient, smiling gentleman who filled my two shopping bags, smiled and said, “That will be $192.00.”  For two bags of groceries!  For dinner for three! I staggered out to Wilshire Blvd when it finally dawned on me.  I had been in the tony Whole Food not the downhome Trader Joe’s.  I could have flown to LA for the price of this little meal.

I shook it off.  We’d have a great time.  I got down to the Airstream in time to get ready for Kat, Jon and Loo Loo.  They were bringing charcoal for the charcoal grill set up which was part of every RV site, so I had little to do.  If it wasn’t for my daughter, Liz I would have had nothing to do.  She had given me a survival package consisting of utensils, silverware, cups --- all the necessities which never crossed my mind before I took for from Texas.

Sunset on the Beach

As is the habit in LA, the kids were caught in the insane traffic that is bad on the freeways but impossibly slow on the side roads, particularly at rush hour.  Kat lives 4 ½ miles from her work and it routinely takes her 40 minutes to get to work – on a good day.  They were making that drive, then had

Service Dog Miss Loo Loo

to get down to me an additional ten miles.  So I busied myself putting down my fancy awning, setting out the folding lawn chairs, putting on a little dinner music and then proceeded to sip a little wine and watch the sun set in the Pacific. 

Jon learning the Circus Pose!

Eventually, they arrived just as the sun settled into the Pacific. Jon is a very nice guy and makes Kat happy.  We chatted, took some pictures and had a relaxing time on the beach as we nibbled appetizers and let the coals heat up.   Everything was perfect - the weather - the company - the location.  Even our neighbors were not around.  We had the place to ourselves.  As it grew dark and the coals grew red it was time to haul out the steaks.   I explained that perhaps I had overdone it a little in my excitement to make it a great night.  That notion was confirmed when I hauled out the steaks.  We had three hunks of meat that were maybe rib eyes or maybe filets that were easily four inches thick.  We put them on the grill.  Now, I am a guy who never really learned who to grill a steak which is surprising since I have been doing it steadily for 40 years.  Our family honored the traditional approach that guys grill out, woman cook in.  So, I have always been the grill man.  Somehow I never know what I am doing.  Too many variables. Temperature, distance from the surface, cooking time, size of the meat and most critical, the amount of wine I consume before, during and after the process.  Too much for me to handle.  Jon swung into action.  He calmly said, "I'll keep an eye on them."  I was more than happy to hand him the wheel.  He calmly took command.  The mango shrimp kabobs were grilled and consumed in no time.  We chatted and cooked, then joked and cooked, then cooked and cooked some more, but those steaks were still thick as a brick and not nearly done.  Finally, it was getting pretty dark and Jon announced, "I think we got them.  Here Kat. Try a little."  He carved off a piece and handed it to Kat.  Nope still cool and raw in the middle. We kept cooking until finally there was a clear and present danger that the coals were cooling down. So we took the steaks of the grill, declared them done and rather than each have a giant glutenous piece, we carved off chunks and started eating.  

I must admit, if I didn't think about the $29.95 a lb., they were damn good steaks.  Of course, each one had to have at least 2 lbs. of meat.  We are talking maybe 35 ounces of steak each.  Kat weights in at about 105 and Jon is probably a vegetarian but too polite to say anything. Regardless, we were having a great time, sitting there in the dark, carving off hunks of meat and enjoying the evening.  

By the time we were finished we were all surprised that we had consumed two of the giant steaks. Simultaneously, we each one of us confessed that maybe we had slipped Loo Loo a bite or two when no one was looking.  We had a great dinner on the beach but I am convinced that Loo Loo had the most fun when our little fete turned into dinner for four on the beach. 

Leftovers - Whole Foods Style