Ruminations and recipes from a small kitchen in a big city.

5.3.13

Food in fiction: No. 2 in a series.

The title company had closed for the day.

I closed for the day too, and drove over to La Cienaga to Rudy's Bar-B-Q, gave my name to the master of ceremonies, and waited for the big moment on a bar stool with a whiskey sour in front of me and Marek Weber's waltz music in my ears. After a while I got in past the velvet rope and ate one of Rudy's "world-famous" Salisbury steaks, which is hamburger on a slab of burnt wood, ringed with browned-over mashed potato, supported by fried onion rings and one of those mixed up salads which men will eat with complete docility in restaurants, although they would probably start yelling if their wives tried to feed them one at home.

After that I drove home. As I opened the front door the phone started to ring.

No. 1 here.

4 comments:

Melbourne Girl said...

Nope, you've got me on this one

Dr. Alice said...

Raymond Chandler, though I can't remember which novel. His acid commentaries on the restaurants of his time are one of my favorite things about his writing. (Said commentaries were probably well-deserved.)

Dr. Alice said...

Incidentally, my office is located on La Cienega and it is still Restaurant Row.

kitchen hand said...

Yes, Dr. A. - Raymond Chandler - I can never place an extract unless a clear pointer such as a name is in it; even then I get confused.

It is from The Long Goodbye and it is Eileen Wade calling when Marlowe gets home.

So you're right on the spot? Go down and have a gimlet for Terry Lennox.