BROADWAY — Whenever a new restaurant opens, my sister says, “Not another Italian restaurant!” A friend who works at Cal Tech claims that when man finally gets to Mars, he or she will find a Starbucks on one corner and an Italian restaurant on the other.
I have often heard of Michael’s in Santa Monica and have walked by it many times but never had a chance to visit until recently and was pleasantly surprised.
The best way to get a response to an article is to say something is the “best,” or create a list of the “best,” like the best Italian restaurant, or the best hamburger.
How do you live to be a 103, look like you’re 75 and still have your wits about you? I want to know. So I’ve been asking the only person I know who fits this description.
MAIN STREET — After a brief zoning misstep, the Santa Monica Food Truck Lot has returned — this time in the parking lot of the California Heritage Museum.
Years ago “American” fast food meant hamburgers, maybe fried chicken. Now it means pizza and tacos, those real “American” foods. But hamburgers are still very popular, and served in a lot of restaurants.
THIRD STREET PROMENADE — Restaurant owners and Downtown business leaders on Tuesday slammed a City Hall proposal to raise rents for those who offer outdoor dining on public property.
When my wife and I went into the AT&T store in Santa Monica to complain about their service, I guess we were a bit too emphatic. The salesperson called the manager.
With Christmas just three weeks away, you may be wondering what to get that special woman in your life. Well, as a woman, I have some ideas of my own: a KitchenAid Artisan Stand Mixer in ice blue for a mere $300, or a Maserati Gran Turismo in matte blue Mediterranean for around $130,000.
I have lunch at Lago at least once a week, and dinner at least once a month. At lunch it’s become the “place to meet” for the French business community in Santa Monica.
I want muscles. That’s what Diana Ross sang about in her song “Muscles,” written in 1982. But her song was about getting a man with muscles; it wasn’t about her wanting muscles of her own.
I have a friend who says that every holiday season he feels like the turkey because he doesn’t know what wine to serve with the holiday meals. It’s a topic of considerable differences of opinion.
