I had a book signing a couple of weeks ago at Hibbleton Gallery, a
great little art space in downtown Fullerton, but there was a
problem–I arrived at 6:30, thinking my reading was scheduled for 7 p.m., when
in fact it was an hour later. Famished, I asked one of the gallery
guys, Jesse La Tour, about a nearby pizza place on my
Hole-in-the-Wall Life list. His scrunched face was as necessary a food
review as I needed. “What about Lizarrán?”, milady inquired, and the
three of us began walking.
The idea of tapas–small plates, each offering different flavors–has
never particularly appealed to me. If I wanted bite-sized morsels, I go
eat tacos; a buffet, I head off to Dosa Place's stunning lunchtime
serenade. But my gal had visited before, and Edwin gave Lizarrán a glowing
review way back when, so the idea of Lizarrán didn't immediately offend
me. Nearly no one was there, however, when we sat–not good for a kinda-new
restaurant in this economic environment.
Under that spirit, we hogged out. I can't remember the small plates I
choose, being that the distance of time and a wine-pickled brain does
wonders with memory. I do remember the ritual–to get cold tapas,
eaters went to the back of a restaurant, where a disinterested man
handed you a plate; warm tapas arrived via a perky young lady who
described each plate in detail. Those were better–I remember different
chorizos, cheeses, and other veggies–but I did like the cold ones save
a selection with anchovies, only because I forgot how damn salty those
critters are. The lady handed us a menu, and I might go back just to
try some of the actual platters (we did munch down a glorious Spanish
tortilla fast), but casual diners can do well with the small bites. If you find yourself in Fullerton with a hankering for a small meal, screw Taqueria de Anda and head east, young man. Besides, you're better off dealing with drunks than cholos.
Lizarran Tapas, 310 N. Harbor Blvd., Fullerton, (714) 879-9009; www.lizarrantapas.com.