A few weeks, months back (we took a fall hiatus) my ex-work wife Emily (we got divorced when I quit the job) asked to be taken on a pLAte adventure. After sending her the full list Emily immediately zeroed in on Lou’s in Hollywood because the pLAte is actually a drink.
“You picked the right girl for a liquid dinner!” Emily g-chatted and off we went later that night to Lou’s. Upon arrival – two hour wait at the door. Strike One.
“I know, Loteria is right around the corner. That’s on the list, let’s go there.” Upon arrival – closed for a private party. Strike Two.
“Well there is always Musso and Franks. Technically that’s on the list too,” I said. We both looked up at the neon sign, took a deep breath and in we went.
Featured prominently on Hollywood Boulevard, Musso & Franks bills itself as the oldest restaurant in Hollywood. Take a walk inside the doors and you’ll see why. High booths covered in decade old leather upholstery fill the dining room. Alongside the left wall an empty lunch-style counter looks as if it hasn’t seen any regular action since 1919.
“Listen, we don’t have to do this,” I told Emily as our maître-d (tux and all) started shuffling us towards one of the booths in the back. “Nah, we’re already here,” Emily said. “You are going to have to cross the pLAte off your list eventually”.
I know it sounds as if I’m being extra tough, don’t get me wrong. I actually love diners, drive-ins and dives (not the show, the actual places). It’s just that there is something depressing about a restaurant that is well past its prime. But before I fully judged the experience – we had to try the pLAte.
Welsh rarebit (which up until that night I thought we were having rabbit) is the must-have at Musso & Franks. “Oh I know what that is…I’ve made it!” Emily exclaimed.
“Well that explains the clientele in here,” I chimed. Besides the rarebit, we took a look at what else might be worth sampling on the menu. Some of the mouth-watering offerings include: Jell Consommé, Potatoes Lyonnaise, Low Cal Plate, Grenadine of Beef, Appetizer Franks and a Flannel Cake (only til 3pm).
“What a weird place.” Emily deduced. The game plan was to start with some drinks (Bourbon Sidecar Margarita for me and a Gin Martini for Emily), order the rarebit and then go from there.
Turns out, this waspy-sounding dish is actually pretty basic. Tomatoes, cheese, bacon and bread to dunk is what goes into the welsh rarebit. Bacon and cheese, that’s my kind of food. How could it get any better? This has got to be a guaranteed homerun right? Wrong.
“Look it’s the same color as my nail polish.” Emily pointed out. I dug into the dish hoping that looks can be deceiving. I mean, the cheesy, gloopy sauce wasn’t terrible…but it sort of tasted like what would happen if you nuked some nacho cheese and poured it over some soggy bacon. Now some people may be into that, but those are probably the same people who head straight for the deep fried butter at the state fair.
“At least the bread is good.” I sighed.
“It looks like leftover toast from this morning’s breakfast.” Emily said as she wiggled a piece over the dish. “This whole thing is like poo on a plate.” Now that’s an endorsement if I’ve ever heard one.
Next up after the rarebit…nothing. Much to our ancient waiter’s surprise, we paid the bill and left. Strike Three. We’re out.
Even though the food was a total bust Emily, look on the bright side – you did get that liquid dinner you asked for.
Musso and Franks
6667 Hollywood Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA 90028
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