Here’s the extent of my culinary knowledge: you can tap, bang, shake and caress the bottle all you want – the ketchup will come out when it’s good and ready.
So I’m not particularly qualified to review a restaurant. But I can highly recommend one. Saturday night I ate at Son of a Gun on 3rd Street in LA. It’s seafood-focused, and even though the décor is antique signs and mounted-marlin fun (and family-style seating) this place is highfalutin.
I kicked it off with a lobster roll that packed a lot of yumminess into a tiny appetizer, and was topped with even tinier potato chips. Then I split a smoked mahi fish dip intermixed with celery and radish, served with Keebler elementary school lunchbox-type crackers. I also split an alligator schnitzel with heart of palm and oranges. If the thought of eating alligator throws you, don’t let it. It both looked and tasted like fried chicken, and anyway, you wouldn't know the difference and chances are excellent you wouldn't care. So don't care.
Speaking of chicken, I’m a certified poultry addict, and the fried chicken sandwich came highly recommended. It was the best I’ve ever had, topped with so much spicy B&B pickle slaw that I had to unhinge my jaw before consuming it.
For dessert, a flourless chocolate cake with a caramelized banana, peanuts and coconut ice cream. I demolished it.
The head chef at Son of a Gun has a sushi background and while he was kinda shy when I complimented him, the man is doing God’s work with every dish’s presentation. This is art, beautiful and delicious and in my belly. Check this place out today.
