Los Angeles: Visiting G's Sister

Every city has a version of itself that exists in movies and a version that exists in real life. LA has about seven of each. The LA you see in films (palm trees, convertibles, sunsets over the PCH) is real, but it accounts for about 15% of the actual experience. The other 85% is sitting in traffic on the 405 wondering if this is how you die.

We flew out to visit G's sister Lola, who lives in LA. This is the single most valuable travel hack I know: have a person in the city. Not a tour guide, not a blog, not a "Top 10 Things to Do" list saved on your phone. An actual person who lives there and eats there and knows which streets to avoid and which taco truck only shows up on Thursdays. Lola is that person for us in LA. She's been there long enough to have opinions about everything, and her opinions are consistently better than Yelp's.

We stayed at The Langham Huntington in Pasadena, which is a very different LA from what most people picture. Pasadena is old money, quiet, historic. You know it from the Rose Parade, if you know it at all. The hotel sits on 23 acres (in LA, where a parking spot is considered real estate, 23 acres is obscene) and has been operating since 1907. Spanish Colonial architecture, manicured gardens with actual rose gardens that the Tournament of Roses Association uses for events, a pool surrounded by landscaping dense enough that you forget you're in a suburban sprawl. The rooms are large and well-maintained. The Huntington Spa is consistently rated among the best hotel spas in Southern California. There's an afternoon tea service in the lobby lounge that G rated a 10 and I tolerated, because sometimes you sit in a room full of women in hats drinking from tiny cups and you just go with it. We keep ending up in places like this. G says she's not bougie. The Langham afternoon tea says otherwise. I don't argue because I ordered the scones twice. Valet parking is $45 a night, which for LA is standard. Budget for it. You will have a car. Everyone in LA has a car.

Location note for anyone planning: Pasadena is about 20 minutes northeast of downtown LA with no traffic (so about 45 minutes to an hour in reality, because traffic in LA is not optional, it's a lifestyle). It works if you want calm and a hotel with real grounds and space. If you want to be in the mix, stay in West Hollywood (walkable restaurants on every block, central to everything, the Sunset Tower and Chateau Marmont are both there). If you want beach energy, stay in Santa Monica (the Shutters on the Beach is the classic choice, and you're on Abbot Kinney in ten minutes). Do not stay near LAX. There is nothing near LAX except LAX and sadness.

Lola took us to Bestia one night. Bestia is a husband-and-wife operation (Chef Ori Menashe and pastry chef Genevieve Gergis) in a converted warehouse in the Arts District downtown. The space is massive: exposed beams, an open kitchen visible from every seat, a copper-topped bar, and a courtyard strung with lights where the music dims to a hum and fig trees frame the tables. It has been one of the hardest reservations in LA since it opened in 2012, and the difficulty hasn't faded a decade later.

The trick to getting in: reservations open on their website exactly 30 days out at midnight Pacific time. Set a calendar reminder. Friday and Saturday nights sell out in literal minutes. If you miss the window, try for a Tuesday or Wednesday, or call the restaurant directly and ask about cancellations. Bar seating is sometimes available as a walk-in if you show up at 5:30 when they open.

What to order: start with the house-made burrata (they make it fresh in-house, and if you sit at the bar you can watch them do it). Lola ordered it before we'd even opened the menus because she'd been talking about it the entire drive over. The slow-roasted lamb neck has become an iconic dish, falling apart and caramelized, served with whatever seasonal accompaniment Ori is working with that week. For pasta, the spaghetti rustichella with dungeness crab is the crowd favorite, but the real sleeper is the cacio e pepe uovo: a single perfectly cooked egg yolk set in a nest of pecorino cream and black pepper. G took a photo of it before touching it, which she never does, which tells you something about how it looks on the plate. It's a starter, not a main, and it will haunt your dreams. For mains, whatever is coming off the wood-fire grill is what you want. The whole-animal program means cuts you don't see at normal Italian restaurants: pork collar, lamb shoulder, offal dishes if you're adventurous.

Save room for dessert, because Genevieve's pastry program is as good as Ori's savory. The chocolate budina (a rich, creamy chocolate custard in a crisp tart shell with salted caramel) has been on the menu since day one because people would riot if it left. After dinner, their sister restaurant Bavel is across the parking lot, does Middle Eastern food at the same level, and has a bar scene that runs late.

Other LA food from the trip: Gjusta in Venice is one of the best bakery/deli experiences in the country. Go before 9 AM for the morning buns, the smoked fish platter, and a cortado from their coffee window. The line gets serious by 10. Jon & Vinny's on Fairfax is a no-reservation red-sauce Italian spot that's always packed because the spicy fusilli and the meatball sub deserve the hype. And if anyone tells you to go to Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles on Gower in Hollywood, listen to them. Order the Obama Special (named after Barack, who ordered it, three wings and a waffle with a side of potato salad) and stop asking questions.

For non-food LA: the Getty Center is free admission (you pay $20 for parking) and it's one of the best museum experiences in America. The Richard Meier architecture alone is worth the drive up the hill. The Robert Irwin central garden is a second museum unto itself, designed so the plants change with the seasons and the whole thing is different every time you visit. Go on a weekday. Weekends are packed. Griffith Observatory is the same story: go at sunset on a Tuesday and you'll have the viewing deck mostly to yourself with a panoramic view of the entire LA basin. Go on a Saturday and you'll spend an hour circling the parking lot on Vermont. The hike up from the Fern Dell entrance on the west side is about 45 minutes, mostly shaded, and way more pleasant than driving.

We left on November 25th, red-eye back to Toronto. The physical shock of stepping out of Pearson airport in late November after eight days in California sun is something you never fully get used to. Your skin dries out. Your body protests. You pull out the winter jacket you packed at the bottom of your suitcase and wonder, briefly, why anyone lives anywhere cold.

Good trip though. Every trip with Lola is.