Chow Time: Howard's Famous Bacon & Avocado Burgers

This, my friends, is an unprecedented Chow Time post.  I have made a promise to myself that I won't post about places that I haven't been.  I won't post about crafts I haven't made (unless I'm featuring a talented crafter that I have met/interviewed).  I won't shill merchandise that I have never tried or for which I have no affinity.  Basically, I won't manufacture a blog out of thin air (let's face it, there is nothing thin about me, even the very air I breathe) based on something about which I have no personal knowledge and/or experience...until now.

Howard's Famous Bacon & Avocado Burgers - Culver City, CA

To be absolutely fair, I have been to Howard's Famous Bacon & Avocado Burgers in Los Angeles, CA (see above photo); I just haven't eaten there.  The irrefutable flaw with that point is that I have no reasonable explanation for my self-inflicted fast.  Self control has never been one of my virtues and usually when confronted with a hamburger (a bacon & avocado burger no less), I go from willing participant to grease-stained glutton before I can even consider the option of abstinence.  At the time, I believe I heard myself say, "I'm not hungry;" knowing that those words have never before escaped my lips, I think I might have been temporarily possessed by some evil force (it says a lot about my character that several weeks after the fact, I'm still grieving the missed opportunity).  On that day, for reasons unknown, I watched as my compatriots enjoyed the spoils of Howard's famed kitchen while I sated myself with photos of the interior, the staff, the patrons, and of course the bacon & avocado.

While the menu looks extensive, it is essentially burgers, dogs, sandwiches, and fries.
The most important item on the menu is "Cash Only."

With the style and locale of a post-surf hangout, Howard's (est. 1971) really looks like a set from Village of the Giants, Fireball 500, or any number of low-budget teen movies from a particular era.  Happy with my surroundings, I learned that, aside from food, there is much to appreciate about Howard's Famous Bacon & Avocado Burgers.

There's this, of course.

And this.
The dining room consists of about five formica booths that cradle diners
in the saturated tones of raspberry sorbet.  Old, faded lobby cards are
shellacked to wooden plaques as a half-hearted nod to the history of
the nearby studios.  The decor is so spare and unaffected that it almost
reads as intentional.

And this.
Although this is far from her greatest film, I am a sucker for Deanna!

And this.
Compositionally speaking, there is nothing even remotely redeeming
about this photograph, except for the confluence of COLOR!

The trash receptacle, enrobed in salmon and marine blue formica, set against
the aqua counter, mid-tone beadboard paneling, the orange scalloped molding
and grill hood, the quilted, stainless backsplash, the red fire extinguisher, the
creamy-vanilla walls, and the mint-green "Employees Only" area are mere
supporting players to that woman in the magical magenta ensemble!
Howard's is a colorful place.

Howard's could serve just about anything and I would still find its lack of refinements charming.  Nevertheless, with food paramount to the overall Chow Time experience, Nick & Cynthia were anxious to discover the glory of Howard's.

Cynthia shows off her Bacon & Avocado Taco (we were expecting a simple bacon & avocado taco
but it was actually a bacon & avocado cheeseburger taco!).  Nick, unamused by what he believed
to be Howard's ironic, post-modern plating style, dives into a bacon-free, veggie burger.

Howard's claim to fame is that they were the first to marry a hamburger with what I believe are the two ingredients that can be added to almost any food to improve the balance of flavor, texture, and the overall eating experience - bacon and avocado (at the very least, they were the first to make a giant billboard with marquee lights announcing the beautiful union).  We have friends who, after moving to California from the opposite coast, mock every menu that has something "California style,"(includes bacon and avocado).  Simultaneously filled with pride for California's delicious culinary contributions and pity for the tragedy of unrefined palates, I leave our friends unnamed in hope that, in their anonymity, they will have time to reflect on the shame of their speciousness (before they are deported from California's borders on the grounds of gastronomic treason).

The Bacon & Avocado Taco

Gratuitous fry shot

And then there was this.
It became clear with this photo that a proxy recommendation sufficed in honoring Howard's
with the wacky tacky Seal of Approval.  Much like a shark in attack mode, Cynthia was so
intent on devouring her combination bovine/porcine prey that her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Mmmmm...them's good taco burger!"
(Source)

I genuinely appreciate the signage and the seating and the swell atmosphere at Howard's, but next time, there will be burger!

Howard's Famous Bacon & Avocado Burgers

11127 Venice Blvd #7

Los Angeles, CA

(310)838-9111

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Chow Time: Hillbilly Hot Dogs

Do you ever go someplace entirely new to you only to get the feeling that somehow you're home?  Where the accumulation of generations' worth of junk is immediately off-putting and comfortably familiar?  Where the jokes are inappropriate, immature, unappetizing, AND entirely hilarious?   Where the food is nothing like "Mama used to make," and that is a good thing?  Hillbilly Hot Dogs in Lesage, WV is the home for which I'd never dared to dream!

I have never posted two "Chow Time" posts in a row, but I am winding up my wild and wonderful West Virginia wingding and I didn't quite plan the sequence as carefully as I might have. 

I told you that I found my home.
Like "A Town Called Odd," I'm unsure if I should be flattered or
offended by the offer of mayorship of Teenie Weenie Land.

Opened in the waning days of the 20th Century, Hillbilly Hot Dogs' appearance belies its mere adolescence; aged outbuildings, rusty farmyard equipment, and weathered vehicles give the facilities the time worn look of a much older hillbilly holler.  While technically it is a restaurant, Hillbilly Hot Dogs is at its core a giant junkyard.  Except for the unctuous aroma of hot dog and french fry oils heavily perfuming the air, a traveler might mistake HHD for the Appalachian interpretation of Sanford and Son.  Not shy of that fact, the management has made the "Junkyard Dog" one of the premiere menu items.  

Just one of the many outbuildings on the premises of Hillbilly Hot Dogs.
I know I have a serious problem when I review this photo and see more than a
 few items that I wish I would have brought home as souvenirs from my trip.

With its tongue firmly entrenched in the hollow of its cheek (parts of the anatomy one really shouldn't think about when eating mystery-meat hot dogs), HHD takes all of the hillbilly stereotypes, embraces them, and makes them digestible for an outsider audience.  

Multiple buses are "dry docked" and repurposed as dining rooms.

At least it's two-ply.

This tree is going places!

We found our seats (in the way back where all the cool kids sit)
but not before picking up a few permanent black markers. 

Every available surface from trash cans, to windows, to weather-beaten
toys is covered in names, dates, quotes, quips, and expressions of love.
We would have gotten in serious trouble writing on the walls when we were kids.
Nevertheless, I will say that I wasn't shy about leaving my mark at HHD.

Do you ever see these plates when you're out and about?
I am always drawn to them but when it comes time to buy
them, for some reason choose to exhibit my most elusive
virtue - restraint.  I figured that signing the plate would
alleviate some of my non-buyer's remorse.

After surveying the premises and making a lasting impression on the walls and windows of a school bus, we made our way to the counter to order our hillbilly grub.  The menu, like the sprawling yard, is extensive and took some time to peruse.  The big challenge is the "Home Wrecker," a fifteen-inch hot dog with everything (and I mean everything) on it.  If a single guest can finish this big dog in under twelve minutes, the Home Wrecker and a prize T-shirt are free (stomach pump NOT included).  We toyed with the idea of ordering one and splitting it amongst our party of four but the last thing I wanted to do was waste time being sick!

At least we were assured that the food would be healthy...

Some crazy french fry concoction
I'm more of a purist.

The Hillbilly Hot Dog
(Mustard, chili, and onions)

The West Virginia Dog
(Chili, onions, and coleslaw)

The Strictly Business Dog
As I've mentioned before, my brother-in-law hails from the great state of Hawaii.
Not wanting to shame the people of his home state, he indulged in a hot dog
topped with that most-misunderstood delicacy, Spam (fried Spam at that).

A corn dog.

Refueling of all varieties takes place at HHD.

Lewd, crude, and disgustingly rude...why didn't I think of that?

It would have been entirely possible, necessary even, to have spent hours combing the grounds of Hillbilly Hot Dogs inspecting all of the accumulated treasures, dilapidated vehicles, and silly signage.  Unfortunately, we had to keep our visit brief as this was my very last stop before winging my way home.

Hillbilly Hot Dogs (Flagship Location)
6951 Ohio River Rd
Lesage, WV
(304)762-2458

www.hillbillyhotdogs.com


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Chow Time: Ben's Chili Bowl

The explosion of colorful signs juxtaposed against the neoclassical details of the
 building creates the kind of thrilling discord that makes our wacky tacky hearts
skip a beat...or maybe its just too many hot dogs and chili.

When discussing long-established Washington, D.C. institutions, The Smithsonian very quickly springs to mind.  Well, after just two short days in the nation's capitol, it became clear that there are institutions and then there are INSTITUTIONS!  Ben's Chili Bowl is a Washington INSTITUTION.

The founder of Ben's Chili Bowl, Ben Ali

In the same location since 1958, Ben's is a favorite of just about everyone.  Among the usual monuments, museums, and mausoleums, nearly every recommendation we received for our trip included a stop for a "Half Smoke" at Ben's. 

The "Half Smoke," a smokey, grilled link in a natural casing,
is clearly the favorite here .  Only one sad, little row of regular
hot dogs populates the flat top grill.

There is definitely a well-heeded protocol at Ben's - NO NONSENSE.  Like many culinary institutions of its kind, Ben's expects patrons to know their order before they even set foot in the ever-present line.  The practice of curtness is one with which I've always experienced a measurable level of cognitive dissonance.  On one hand, I love the tradition and the expectation that patrons won't create an undue delay by hemming and hawing and creating special orders; on the other hand, I wonder, "Would a sweet disposition and a smile be so terribly misplaced?"  Just be warned, one thing you will not get at Ben's is a folksy welcome and a tolerance for indecision. 

What you might get is a celebrity sighting.
Mr. President & Mr. Cosby - two of Ben's most famous patrons

Why is it always the people who need it the least get all the freebies?

A contrarian by nature, I have been accused of having difficulty "going with the flow."  When any person, place, product becomes a "big thing," the overwhelming tendency is for me to turn up my nose and turn the other way.  Knowing the code of conduct at Ben's, I overcame my ordinary obstinacy and ordered the standard Half Smoke like a regular.

Ben's famous "Half Smoke" comes with mustard, onions, the eponymous chili, and a side of Utz's potato Chips. 

So dainty...eating with a knife and fork.
I am an inveterate spiller - a trait inherited from my
grandmother.  You could almost always tell what she had
eaten base on the spots remaining on her  ample bosom
(the apple doesn't fall far from the proverbial tree).

Veggie Chili Cheese fries - shared among our crowd.
I preferred the veggie chili to the beef option.

"How did I manage to get it all over my face while drinking through a straw?"

As always, I am happy to visit regional institutions and partake in their famous offerings. The Half Smoke was tasty but maybe didn't quite live up to the hype that it received.  The funny thing is that it never occurred to me until now that ordering a bowl of chili was an option at Ben's Chili Bowl!  I would say that next time I would order a bowl of veggie chili but Ben's felt more like a check mark than a return engagement - a definite must-see, must-eat, must-experience but one time only.

I was hoping that the boomerang formica didn't prove
some kind of ominous foreshadowing...I did not want
 this meal repeating on me.  It didn't.

Sometimes the best part about road trip food is the detox afterward.  As tasty as chili dogs and french fries can be, there is such a renewal in fresh, unprocessed food.  I say this from the safety of my home with a buffer of 2,500 miles between us; this kind of heresy would not be smiled upon by Ben's management (to say nothing of the dedicated patrons).

I echo Ben's sentiments in saying, "Thank You...Come Again."

Ben's Chili Bowl
1213 U Street NW
Washington, D.C.
(202)667-0909

www.benschilibowl.com


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Chow Time: The Apple Pan

There are times in your life when you are doing fine, sure in the knowledge that you are doing your utmost to put your best foot forward.  Confidently striding along the precipice of disaster, you take one teeny-tiny false step and find that you are slipping down that old proverbial slope, realizing that the substance that makes it so slippery is grease - specifically french fry grease.  Aaaarrrgh!  Why are french fries so darn tasty?  It is impossible to just try one french fry.  French fries from The Apple Pan in Westwood are, of course, no exception to the rule.

Mr. Tiny looking sheepish after he answered
the siren song of french fries...and hamburgers.

I really have been trying to "eat better" (vague enough to allow for a multitude of sins).  Sometimes, however, in my quest to bring you good people the best in wacky tacky, I make selfless sacrifices, yes, even my health and well being.

The Apple Pan
"Quality Forever"

To be honest, The Apple Pan is as close to my idea of perfection, in terms of the type of restaurant that I would like to own, as an existing building could be.  It looks like a 1930's roadside cabin painted a creamy white with green trim and awnings.  The horseshoe counter accommodates no more than 25 guests, the kitchen (such as it is) is visible behind a brick facade, ceiling fans circulate the air so a fine coating of french fry and hamburger grease is evenly distributed throughout the restaurant and upon each guest, and then, of course, there is the tartan wallpaper.

The screen-door entry
The building could not offer any more charm.

Button-tufted barstools

The tartan plaid wallpaper

With all of its old-timey charm, The Apple Pan is in no way my idea of a perfect operation.  I realized, after not offering my patronage for many years, just why I had been absent for so long.  Firstly, the seating is limited to whatever stools happen to be vacant around the counter.  Let's just put it this way, the seats at The Apple Pan never have a chance to cool down between uses; it's always extremely busy and names are never taken.  Thusly, getting a seat is akin to an ancient Roman blood sport.  I hate waiting in line more than I hate people who refuse to use their turn signals.  I hate even more that someone who might have come into the restaurant after me gets a seat before I do because they happened to be staking out an area of quicker eaters than I.  Seriously, in the above picture you can see the culture of hovering (which isn't pleasant for anyone) and the one guy who chose to eat standing up because he could not get a seat.  Secondly, the service at The Apple Pan is, shall we say, gruff.  The staff is extremely efficient but efficiency and ungraciousness need not be synonymous.  Obviously, they are doing something right because they have been serving the same menu in the same location for 65 years but a little gentility wouldn't hurt the operation.

The french fries....pure evil.

In spite of my quibbles with the seating and customer service, there are things that I genuinely like about The Apple Pan.  Although it isn't a dining car, it is definitely reminiscent of the kind of joint where one could catch Wimpy offering to "Gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today."  The cups are wax paper cones set inside those metal, tulip-shaped stands (in all honesty I prefer a glass and a straw but this practice gets major nostalgia points).  Plus, once one is actually seated, it is the kind of place that feels perfectly old-timey; when one's eyes are squinted, it is hard to tell if it is 1947 or 2012 - that's a very good thing!  And then there is the food....

It doesn't look like anything particularly special but the spice-filled relish is
quite good and all of the ingredients add up to a harmoniously balanced burger.

Caught in the act

I really shouldn't bad mouth the service too vehemently; noticing that her meatless hamburger (she's always trying to one-up me in the "eating better" arena) took an inordinate amount of time to prepare, the server slung Mary a free piece of pie.  Such is Mary's life; she pretty much gets free stuff/preferential treatment wherever we go.

No pie for me...but can I keep the plate?
Except for the pie, nothing at The Apple Pan is served on a proper plate;
if I had these plates, I would probably save them for special occasions too!

Just like Disneyland's candy store, there is a viewing window in the
restaurant so diners can see the preparation of pies.  What I saw was puzzling.
The baker holds in his left hand some kind of sweet slurry which he adds,
through a hole in the top crust, to already baked apple pies.
I'm sure it was tasty, but have you ever heard of such a practice???

I'm at a loss as to the exact explanation of the restaurant's name.  As is evidenced above, they have pie, even apple pie, but there is absolutely no apple pan dowdy to be seen.  In it's glaring absence, I bring you some shoo-fly pie AND apple pan dowdy of a different variety.

"Shoo-Fly Pie and Apple Pan Dowdy" - June Christy

Pay no attention to the sexy lips, this is a very chaste

 song about homemade dessert...or is it???

The Apple Pan
10801 Pico Blvd
Los Angeles, CA
(310)475-3585


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny