a hot time

The search for the perfect curry in Los Angeles is never-ending and frequently thankless. Many of the Indian restaurants, it has to be said, get away with murder, either deliberately or because they employ substandard chefs. Many staff the kitchen with Mexicans, who know about peppers and spices but usually have no feel for the subtleties, the nuances, the infinite variety of a skilfully produced curry. The problem is compounded by the fact that the local diners just don't know what they are ordering, much as it must have been in Britain fifty years ago unless you had an ex-Indian soldier or civil servant to guide you and tell the waiters precisely what was required.
So I live on a diet of hope, fed from time to time by friends, contacts, acquaintances, who have what they are convinced is a sure-fire tipoff. You can filter most of these very quickly. First question: is it in West LA, Santa Monica or the Indian enclave of Artesia, forget it. Second question: is the kitchen fully Indian? Third question: does it even pretend to serve onion bahjis? A No to any of these and you can pretty safely forget it.
The latest recommendations have come from Shel Talmy, a now-blind American record producer who has better-than-normal curry credentials because he spent 17 years in London producing the Kinks and Pink Floyd. He suggested Curry Palace, which shares premises with the Coach and Horses a few blocks west of Gardner on Sunset.
The pub is promising, with a long, ill-lit bar on one side, and booths on the other. The Three Stooges used to relax here, which may or may not be in the bar's favor.
Next door, the Curry Palace was less promising. In fact, it was empty. And it had no licence, though you could fetch drinks from next door (a strange arrangement, I thought, as they were effectively one establishment).
Indian-run kitchen? So it seemed? Far enough west? Yes. Onion bahjis? Yes, but of the doughy, leaden variety, with not a lot of flavor. OK though, I felt.
The main dishes were authentically curried, and could have been served in any of several thousand similar places in UK. The tarka dahl in particular was exceptional, thick and garlicky. Naans were the right consistency too, but the saag bahji was, well, a bit mucky. Do you know what I mean? Hard to explain, but it did not encourage me to return there. The service was a bit eccentric too. Altogether not a very welcoming place, but OK in dire emergency. On balance, I decided it was not up to the current benchmark, Mezbaan in Pasadena, which has a Nepali chef if you please. It lacks proper onion bahjis, but is otherwise pretty reliable. However, it falls short of the standard I can't help feeling LA must be capable of producing.
Next stop is Salomi in Lankershim Boulevard, north Hollywood.
I will report back but meanwhile, by way of a foretaste of the area and at the same time a complete change of pace, we drove up in that direction to the extraordinary Joe's Great American Bar & Grill on 4311 West Magnolia Boulevard, Burbank.
Like so many entertainment places in LA, it is a total throwback to the 1950s or earlier. A small version of a Glenn Miller big band tooted 1940s sounds for the benefit of dancers who had clearly spent many hours honing their skills. The food was ropey, the drinks were, well, drinks but people turned up there for the music - which was nominally free but the band regularly rattled a bucket and told anyone who cared to listen that it was not for tips, that was how they got paid. Joe (if he exists) wasn't taking any chances, apparently. I did not see many dollars being dropped into the bucket so, like many in LA showbiz, that highly competent band may have been slaving away for next to nothing, all for the chance to parade their wares in the hope that someone with real money might hear them and offer them a career-making contract, maybe in some period movie. Publishers, bar-owners and radio and TV station franchiseholders make fortunes out of the hope value they dangle before performers. It's a con that has kept LA going for a century and will continue to do so as long as there are enough radio, TV and film studios in the area. But it does mean that there is plenty of live entertainment any night of the week, often for free or next to nothing. It keeps the wheels oiled, and there will always be new hopefuls to replace those who finally give up and return home to mundane lives. But at least they know they give it a shot, probably their best shot.