Around the World in LA: Lagos African Cuisine

This summer I thought it'd be a good idea to try some new restaurants in LA. I've been eating the same foods for a while. Why not try something new?

Recently, I went to a place in Mid-Wilshire called Lagos African Cuisine.




I had looked it up on Yelp, thinking it was called Ngoma. They changed it two years ago, according to our waitress.

The menu is extensive. There's a section of entrees from East Africa, West Africa and Nigeria. We ordered one dish from each region, plus an order of Cassava Chips.



The texture of the Cassava Chips is interesting. I wanted to think of it as eating fries, but that's not accurate.

Here are the three dishes we ordered:



Ugalina Sukuma Wiki. Ugali is like a cornmeal paste, and by itself has no flavor. It's a staple of Eastern and Southern Africa. To get an idea of the ugali's texture, it's similar to grits. Since it has no taste, it's served with the sukuma wiki (kinda like collard greens) and chicken. It all works well together.



Fried plantains and fried yams, served with grilled fish. This was off the Nigerian section of the menu. While the plantains were OK, that fish was tasty.



Poulet Yassa. This is chicken marinated in a lemon sauce, sauteed with vegetables, served with rice. It's a West African dish.

I'm not a food writer at all, so I can't tell you the intricacies of African cuisine. But I do like food. Especially when it's something new. And Lagos was a success! I would go back here to try the other dishes.

Lagos African Cuisine (Formerly Ngoma Restaurant)
5358 Wilshire Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90036

A word on the Yelp reviews: There are two one-star reviews for Lagos, which you can take with many grains of salt. Their Ngoma page has more views and averages 3.5 stars. The food hasn't changed since they renamed themselves. I wouldn't let the one-star reviews sway you.

If you have a favorite African dish or restaurant, please comment! I'd loved to hear about it.

Before I Forget: Hong Kong

Writing about my last two trips has been difficult. I start strong, writing a great deal about the beginning, and then I lost focus and quit. This is an attempt to make amends.

My Highlights of Hong Kong:

Family



The real reason I visited Hong Kong. This was a chance to see K's grandmother (Amah), two aunts, uncle, sister and brother-in-law. Family time included Chinese food up the wazoo and a Thanksgiving feast, complete with turkey and fixings. I made nice with Amah; She said I had a nice nose.

Dialogue in the Dark



K's sister brought this to our attention. It's an hour-and-a-half long exhibit, and you're blind the whole way through. A guide gives you a walking stick and you walk in complete darkness. Really. You can't see crap. It's best to use the walking stick, or you'll end up groping the person in front of you.

You're taken through a simulated market, ferry ride, and other HK experiences. All using your other senses. And the end of the tour, you discover (mini spoiler alert) that the guide is blind and has to experience living like this every day. You end the exhibit with a Q&A session with your guide and an appreciation for your sight.

Sorry, no pictures were taken inside.

Dim Sum



Like you couldn't guess this one. I love dim sum and in Hong Kong it tastes...well, nearly the same as it does in Monterey Park. Sorry. I don't have a very discerning palette.

I had dim sum on two occasions, and the har gow and tsu mai were heavenly. And cheap. That's important.

TST

Tsim Sha Tsui. It's a touristy spot, overlooking Victorian Harbour, but you get fantastic views of the HK skyline. Great for unwinding and people-watching.



Central Station



If you hang around Central Station on a Sunday afternoon, you will find yourself surrounded by Filipino women. These women work all week as domestics, and Sunday is their day off.

They're everywhere; sprawled on broken-down cardboard boxes, playing cards, eating lunch, and gossiping. Outside Central you hear packing tape ripping, over and over again, as they pack their balikbayan boxes (they're like gigantic care packages).

And throughout Central is the aroma of Jollibee's fried chicken...



The Peak



It's a must-do. You can take the tram, but we took the bus. If you're mildly carsick like me, consider the tram. The Peak is also a tourist spot, but for good reason. It offers a view of HK that you can't get anywhere. We went at night, which I recommend. It was crowded, but not much. You will have to fight the tourists to get that perfect photo, which I never seem to take, but that's ok.

I very much liked Hong Kong. It's loud. It's smells funny. The streets aren't people-friendly. But the city is so alive. It doesn't hurt that the food is fantastic.

This won't be my only visit. As long as K has family living there, and as long as har gow is still being made, there will always be cause to return.

The American Tourist

While cruising my twitter feed, I found this article:

How to Avoid Looking Like an American Tourist

It's a lengthy article. It's full of "Do"s, mostly "Don't"s. I agree with some (fanny packs are just ridiculous) and there are some I wholeheartedly disagree with (leave my nylon cargo pants and travel shirt alone!), but overall, the article got me thinking.


*Breaking so many rules in this photo*

I get the point; Don't do anything to be a prime target for thieves, and don't do anything to embarrass your fellow Americans. Basically, don't stick out like a sore thumb.

Here's the thing: Americans are so good at sticking out and embarrassing themselves because that's who we are. We love fanny packs! And taking dorky pictures of ourselves! And yes, sometimes we let one fly while we're in public. Go USA!

On the flip side of that coin, we can be at ease among strangers (Americans are gold medalists in small talk), we're game for most things (see: Andrew Zimmern) and, though we may appear dorky, we're really fun-loving (see: My Travel Guru).

American tourists can follow a list of guidelines a mile long. We can ditch our fanny packs. We can switch our REI convertible pants for linen slacks. We can whisper instead of yell. That won't change things. We'll still be louder than most. We'll still be laughed at by locals.

For all our faults, I'm still proud to be an American Tourist; Thankful to have the means to travel, and eager to learn how to be a better citizen of the world.

But sorry. I'll wear my travel shirt wherever I damn please.

Catching Up

Good grief, it's been over half a year since I've posted?

I feel awful. But I had a wedding to plan and after that, a marriage to tend to, meaning time away from this blog.

That doesn't mean I've strayed away from traveling. The wife (who will figure prominently in this blog going forward, whether she knows it or not) and I spent a week in Belize. And, if all goes according to plan, we'll be hitting up South Africa in October.

When not traveling, we've been trying out a few restaurants in the LA area that serve a different cuisine than I'm used to. It's sort of a summer project that keeps me yearning to travel. And eat. And eventually, write.

And I owe a few words about the 2nd leg of my 2010 trip. Well, there's a leg of my 2009 trip that I never covered. I should put it to the blogosphere now before it evaporates.

I'm just getting my groove back. Here's hoping I hold onto it!

One Hour of Glory

I stood while singing. I don't usually sit down for the first song. K and Terri were seated. They thumbed through the songbook, looking for the English songs. This usually happens during the first song. Nobody watches you. I knew this, so I just went for it.

"YOUUU CAN DANNNNCE....YOUUUU CAN DANNCEE..."

This wasn't the first time I've sung ABBA to open a night of karaoke. This WAS the first time I sang ABBA in Japan. Or any song.

It was a moment years in the making. After singing song after song in many Norebang in LA Koreatown, and singing in my aunt's living room on the Magic Mic, this is what had eluded me; Karaoke in its home country.

"HAVVVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIIFFFEEE...OOOOOH..."

The Karaoke experience is embraced by some, abhorred by others. I don't know any in the latter category, so let's not worry about them. I love Karaoke. I love the cheesiness. The way your voice sounds coming out of the speakers. The more reverb the better. I love watching other people sing, they way they just go for the gold. And what you can't sing, you make up for in improved rap and interpretive dance.

We only had one hour. It was our last night in Tokyo, and we were a tired bunch. We broke off into two groups; Reub and Susie took a trek to Kyoto and Osaka via Shinkansen, the rest of us on a day trip to Hakone. I had agreed to postpone Karaoke on my birthday, which was two days earlier. Time was running out.

"It's not gonna happen," I thought. We're gonna get in late, everyone's gonna be tired. Nobody will be up for singing. As we walked back to our hostel, I turned to Karen. "One hour, that's ALL I need."

"OK," She replied. I didn't know if she was really up for Karaoke, or if she thought I'd be a sulking mess for the rest of the trip if we didn't do it. The two of us, with Terri, stepped into a Karaoke place a couple of blocks from our hostel. I didn't know any Japanese, the people working there knew no English, but does it really matter with Karaoke?


*The view from our room*

We rode up an elevator the the seventh floor. This Karaoke building had nine floors total. Japanese Karaoke just kills anything in the US. The room could fit the three of us comfortably. And we only had one hour.

No time for trying new songs. I went through my usual suspects. ABBA. Done. Guns n' Roses. Check. Elton John's Your Song? Sung to Karen without needing to look at the words? Yes, that too.

And that was it. My one hour of glory, done. It, like the rest of our time in Tokyo, went by way too quickly.

I'll be back here. There's a lot more of ABBA to go through.

Alone with the Crowd

The fish, with a stick through its carcass, jerked a few times, then jerked again. Karen was the first to notice. "It's still moving!" She refused to eat it. I grabbed a piece of sashimi with my chopsticks, waved it in front of the fish, taunting it. "I'm gonna eat you! You gonna be delicious!" Karen, my two friends Terri and Winnie, the waitress, the family in the corner, and the old man dressed like a Mongolian in the other corner, all stared, aghast.

We were in a seafood restaurant on a cold, rainy night in Moto-Hakone. With the exception of the 7-11 next door, it was the only place open. I was hungry, soaked and a little chippy. The entire day was spent getting to this spot. From our hostel to Asakusa station, then a train to Shinjuku station, then a train to Hakone-Yumoto, then a bus that crawled through winding roads.

I took my frustrations out on Flopsie. That's what we called the fish for the remainder of our trip. I assured everyone that Flopsie was quite dead, but that didn't make anyone feel better. I also said that fish have no feelings, so my taunting didn't really matter. That made everyone feel worse. I stopped talking and ate more of Flopsie.



This was the start of our trip away from Tokyo, to get away from the crowds. The plan was to stay a night at the Moto-Hakone Guesthouse, then wake up early and get a full day of Hakone in, with our Hakone Freepass. For 5000 Yen, our freepass was good for selected buses, trams, cablecars, ropeways and ferries.

The only problem was that we planned this day for November 23rd. This happens to be a Japanese National Holiday. Which meant thousands of other Tokyo-ites were leaving town, for the quiet scenery of towns such as Hakone. There went our hopes for a quiet day-trip.

Crowds surrounded us. On the bus from Moto-Hakone to Gora. On the cablecar from Gora to Sounzan. While waiting in line for Ropeway from Sounzan to Togendai. On the cruise boat across Lake Ashi back to Moto-Hakone. Swarms of families; mostly Japanese with a few westerners. Snapping pictures at every opportunity, taking in the foliage as the rain clouds were swept away for a brief moment. My energy drained with each trip. I just wanted to get away from our getaway.


*Aboard the sightseeing cruise*

The crowds stayed with us on our two-hour bus ride back to Hakone-Yumoto station. I spent half the ride standing up. With each hairpin turn I shoved my backpack into a old man's face. The crowds followed us back to Shinjuku. Only when we trudged through Asakusa to our hostel was when they left us alone. What was supposed to a restoring daytrip turned into an endurance test. I failed. And we had to fly to Hong Kong the next day...

Hakone, with its foliage and mountain views, is a beautiful place. Contrasted with the bustle of Tokyo, it can be a peaceful getaway. Just be mindful of those national holidays.

And if you happen to be in Moto-Hakone and get the sashimi, just be warned.

Autumn in Tokyo

I love autumn. I love the brownish red and orange leaves. I love the crisp air that doesn't bite so much as embrace you as you walk. The sunlight seems softer in autumn. The day shortens, but that makes you appreciate it more.

I don't get to enjoy autumn much in L.A. This past September, the temperature Downtown reached 110 degrees. It rained a few days in October, I think. Otherwise, warm temps. Nobody seems to complain. They brag to their relatives back east that they wear flip-flops year-round. I weep for autumn in So. Cal.



Japan knows autumn. The trees flaunt their colors in areas like Ueno Park. After our Sushi Adventure, we strolled down Ueno Park, from the the Shinobazu Pond on the south side, all the way to the Tokyo National Museum to the north.



We thought these were water lilies covering the pond, but after further review, they're lotuses. I had never seen anything like this.

We weren't the only ones enjoying this autumn Saturday in the park. Kids dragged their parents to the Ueno Zoo and the amusement park. A group of old men played croquet. Other kids encircled a pair of jugglers. Tourists like me snapping pictures at trees and fountains. I don't blame them.

I love the weather in L.A.. I'm spoiled. But I still love the autumn. And I had to go to Tokyo to find it. I'm sure it's cheaper to go to New England. How's the sushi there?