Best Of :: Food & Drink
The longest-standing Middle Eastern restaurant in Anaheim's Little Arabia approached a crossroads that might have otherwise seen the shuttering of its doors. Mike Hawari, who had run the kitchen of Kareem's Restaurant with his wife, Nancy, since the late 1990s, passed away last year. It was the always-affable chef's wish that she continue with their culinary creations without him. Sellers came and made offers, but with a little hired help and their children pitching in long hours, the legacy continues. Visit Kareem's Restaurant today, and the falafel sandwich is still that same bite into crunchy, garbanzo-bean goodness wrapped in warm Arabic bread. The lentil soup is a rightful treasure unto itself with the right squeeze of lime freshening it up. Fatteh, as with any breakfast of champions around the world, is served all day long. Come hungry for the hearty combination grill served with succulent slices of chicken, shish kebab and kufta, a tube-shaped aromatic mix of ground beef and lamb, laid out on a bed of rice, with a round of hummus on the side, to keep your stomach satiated for the rest of the day. Wash it all down with green mint tea or Vimto while dining outside, and in that moment, the joy for cooking Mike Hawari exemplified lives on.
Seven small tables, one of them covered with cookies, pastries and other Filipino desserts in plastic boxes. Not a single white face in the place. All good signs you're going to be eating the real deal. Go to the counter and tell the woman behind the glass what you want. Served turo turo (cafeteria) style, she drops two huge scoops of rice on a plate and looks at you patiently while you try to decide. Two large barbecue pork skewers, generous with smoky, flavorful meat, not too fatty? Or kaldereta, a hearty, chunky beef stew with bell peppers, chile and other veggies? Beef mushroom overflowing with large sliced mushrooms and slices of beef reminiscent of boeuf bourguignon? The calamares is a little more of an acquired taste for a white palate, but the tender squid is cooked in its own delicious, salty ink.
If you'd like to get away from the standard artery-cloggers posing as fast breakers 'round town, the Blue Frog Bakery's Vegi-Burrito will stuff your gut without stopping your heart. The O'Brian potatoes, scrambled eggs, avocado, zucchini and tomatoes stuffed into a large tortilla is a two-fister topped off with a side of salsa perfection. If cholesterol isn't an issue, the breakfast machaca's shredded beef, eggs, bell peppers and onions or the insidiously addictive Egg Muffin Breakfast—scramblers, meat and cheese on an English Muffin—beats the hell out of any fast-foody junk you'd pick up elsewhere. The inside can get full quickly some mornings, so get in early and snake out one of the four small café tables under the Bakery's eave. Catch up on your reading, drink a latte and start your day with a full stomach (and mind). Inside tip: If you're into anime or all things nerdist, chat up friendly and funny counter girl Red. She's our favorite.
"This is my favorite bar that isn't a bar," says a regular inside Left Coast Brewery's tasting room as he sets down two empty growlers and sits at the bar. He picks up a pint glass with the brewery's logo on it and asks if it's the biggest glass they have. It is. You can taste whatever's chalked on the brew board in 5-, 10- or 16-ounce vessels. As the bartender fills the guy's glass with Left Coast Baltic Porter, there's a general discussion about how to pour a black and tan and which Left Coast selections would make one best. Everyone happily disagrees. The guy loves his porter so much he says he'd pour it over ice cream, which leads to a unanimous desire for a stout float. It's Saturday afternoon, and people flow in to get their growlers filled, and all of them stay to have a big glass of something barrel-aged (not available to-go) or dark or hoppy or even double-hoppy—Left Coast claims it's one of the pioneers of the double IPA. Its version is an award-winner called Hop Juice that lures you in with a sweet maltiness, then delivers a multihop wallop of fun bitterness, followed not too long after by the full-body effects of its 9.7 percent ABV.
Whichever individual 5-inch pies you choose at this Aussie newcomer, comfort food meets up-to-the-minute freshness and inventiveness. "Shortcut pastry shell with a puff-pastry lid" is how Pie-Not describes the perfect enclosures for the tender, juicy fillings. The Dog's Eye is the place to start, a ubiquitous meat pie Down Under; it's like having the best tomato-basil-mozzarella panini of your life at a Rome train station. The filling comes in many lively variations: two we liked are Shroomin, with crimini and field mushrooms, and the premium Drover, which has petite peas and carrots, topped with garlic mashed potatoes instead of the puff pastry.
The fresh peach pie is a mountain of sliced-fruit perfection altered only enough to be called pie.