"I Just Want To Say...", Nancy Silverton Begins Palestinian Israeli Peace Negotiations in Jerusalem

Tired of the bullshit, American chef Nancy Silverton has decided the key to unlocking the door to lasting peace between Israel and Palestine is for her to just go there and start cooking and eating and drinking. So she did. 

"I think food and wine are the missing negotiation ingredients in the seemingly endless conflicts between two people who both love the same things," said Silverton, the only chef to win the James Beard Award for best chef and best pastry chef in America. "Look, you can argue forever who made the first hummus, but why? The key is to eat the best hummus together, have some good kebab,  some great red wine, and then quote Rodney King."

"I just want to say, you know, can we, can we all get along" Can we get along?" - Rodney Glen KIng III, May 1, 1992

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sONfxPCTU0

"Southside" Compared to Raymond Chandler in Los Angeles Review of Books

LOS ANGELES REVIEW OF BOOKS , January, 2015. 

Tyler Dilts  on Southside by Michael Krikorian

Chandler’s Shadow

“WE’RE GOING TO TALK about Raymond Chandler for the next four hours,” the tour guide says. I’m on a bus with about 30 people on “Raymond Chandler’s Los Angeles: In A Lonely Place, An Esotouric Bus Adventure.” The driver has just pulled to the curb on Olive Street in front of the Los Angeles Athletic Club and across the street from Giannini Place, where Chandler worked as VP of the Dabney Oil Syndicate until booze, flakiness, and dalliances with female employees led to his dismissal and then to his writing career.

We get off the bus and cross the street to visit the Art Deco entrance to the Oviatt Building. The tour guide recites the history of the building and reads a passage from Chandler’s The Lady in the Lake that describes where we’re standing: “The sidewalk in front of the building had been built of black and white rubber blocks.” The rubber was removed to be recycled for the war effort, but other things have remained the same; he continues: “They were taking them up now to give to the government, and a hatless pale man with a face like a building superintendent was watching the work and looking as if it was breaking his heart.” Much of the architectural detail survived the decades — sconces and stained glass and Art Deco detailing — and much of today’s Los Angeles was Chandler’s setting 70 years ago. Anyone writing crime fiction set in Southern California today is writing in Chandler’s milieu.

Raymond Chandler, the author of The Big Sleep and The Long Goodbye, is widely regarded as a titan of the subgenre of crime fiction. Among writers and scholars, though, his essay “The Simple Art of Murder,” first published in The Atlantic in 1944, is nearly as well known as his fiction. In this takedown of the English tradition of mystery stories, he lambasts the Golden Age of detective fiction (“Sherlock Holmes after all is mostly an attitude and a few unforgettable lines of dialogue”) and, after offering a detailed critique of a number of those stories, offers this summation: “There is a very simple statement to be made about all of these stories: they do not come off intellectually as problems, and they do not come off artistically as fiction.”

Later in the essay, Chandler cites Dashiell Hammett as representative of a different style of detective fiction, one that deals in realistic situations and uses realistic violence to achieve its ends. Due to this realism, Chandler argues, this fiction has the potential to engage in a kind of literary art that is otherwise absent in the genre. Of those who challenged Hammett’s work as mysteries, he says, “These are the flustered old ladies ... [who] do not care to be reminded that murder is an act of infinite cruelty.”

In the first few paragraphs of his essay, Chandler describes the ideal detective. In a well-known passage of the work, he writes: “Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid.” This distils the essence of Philip Marlowe, the intrepid knight-errant protagonist of Chandler’s seven novels and most of his short stories. He wasn’t the first detective of his kind — but he was perhaps the finest — and has become archetype of hard-boiled protagonists in the decades since his creation.

What sets Chandler and others of the hard-boiled school apart from the broader genre of mystery fiction is the idea that violence has consequences from which one can never fully recover. Even if the murder is solved and the killer brought to justice, order can never be completely restored, because it never truly existed in the first place. With his fiction and (even more prescriptively) with “The Simple Art of Murder,” Chandler established a paradigm for literary crime fiction that would dominate the genre for well over half a century.

Due to the many reproductions of his novels, that paradigm has necessarily included Chandler’s literary style, as well as his vivid depictions of Southern California, and both aspects have become conventions of the hard-boiled style. Two recent novels — Matt Coyle’s Yesterday’s Echo and Michael Krikorian’s Southside — highlight these sometimes disparate aspects of the genre.

Michael Krikorian’s Southside grapples with this issue in a manner from which most Southern California crime fiction shies away. Krikorian is a former gang reporter for the Los Angeles Times, and his considerable authority on the subject is clear. The novel’s protagonist, Michael Lyons, covers gangs for the city’s major newspaper, and when he’s shot outside his favorite bar after a midday double, a complex plot of revenge and retribution begins to unfold.

Krikorian nails the newspaper culture with both humor and venom. Almost as soon as the shooting occurs, Lyons’s colleagues form a “Who shot Mike?” betting pool. The speculation grows even more intense when a tape recording of a conversation between Lyons and a gang shot caller named King Funeral, in which he suggests being shot might give him more street cred, is made public. As the story develops, we see both the newspaper business and the criminal investigation in vividly realistic detail.

We know early on, though, that Lyons was not responsible for his own attack. No. The shooter was Eddie Sims. There’s no mystery in this — Krikorian reveals the attacker’s identity early on. We know not only who did it, but we also see more of what Sims has in store. Years earlier, his son, who had avoided the gangs so many of his peers were involved with, was killed in an incident involving the leader of a local crew, Big Evil. After Sims sees a documentary that shows Big Evil flourishing as a trustee in a super-max prison, he decides to take revenge on those who failed to seek the death penalty in Big Evil’s trial. Death Row, Sims believes, even without the ultimate punishment, would still be a fitting fate for Big Evil. Lyons is Sims’s first target because the reporter wrote a profile of the gang leader that humanized him and granted him even more notoriety than he already possessed.

Krikorian does much the same thing for his characters here as Lyons does for those he profiles. He gives voice to the realities of their lives in South Central Los Angeles in a way Chandler never could. Eddie Sims, in all his grief and loss and capacity for senseless violence, is the most compelling of the central characters. When Sims is on the run and holed up in a cheap motel, Krikorian writes that “he stayed in his room and watched the news. There was nothing of interest. He finally fell asleep around three in the neon morning, his reloaded S&W revolver in the nightstand drawer atop the Gideon Bible.” Even as we’re horrified we feel empathy; Sims is recognizably and understandably human. He’s a character who, in Chandler’s world, would be invisible, but whom Krikorian makes visible.

Southside is written in a combined first- and third-person perspective, but the portions written in the third person achieve an authenticity and authority that is absent in Lyons’s first-person point of view. Reading, I had the impression that Krikorian was trying too hard to fit Lyons into the mold of the hard-boiled hero Chandler described in “The Simple Art of Murder,” and wondered if Lyons, as he goes down the meanest streets Los Angeles has to offer, might in fact be mean himself. By the end, tarnished though he is, Lyons is shown not to be mean, but for a novel that examines the underside of Southern California (untouched since before Chandler began writing), that is only a minor consideration. While Lyons’s redemptive actions in the novel’s final act might not ring entirely true, ultimately, Krikorian’s authority on the subject overcomes the limitations of his protagonist’s characterization, and Southside becomes an examination of a Los Angeles too seldom seen in serious crime fiction.

Krikorian's Southside and Coyle's Yesterday’s Echo can be read as two distinct aspects of Chandler’s legacy. In terms of style, voice, and tone, Matt Coyle ably follows in the master’s stylistic footsteps and evokes the literary quality with which Chandler imbued the Southern Californian tradition of detective literature.  

Krikorian, on the other hand, builds an authentic Southern California landscape that allows the vast blind spots in Chandler’s vision to be at least partially filled in. Perhaps, it’s fitting that Krikorian’s rendering of this landscape is more problematic and less cohesive than Coyle’s. Chandler’s creation of the mythic Philip Marlowe was so successful it turned the author himself into a figure almost as mythic. These two novels find the value not only of furthering the myth, but also of tearing it down.

                                                                                                    ¤

The bus tour ends a block away from where it began, in the rapidly gentrifying Los Angeles Arts District. The tour guide regales us with the last sad anecdotes of Chandler’s later years and his suicide attempt; I’m struck by how thoroughly and effectively the tour has deconstructed Chandler the writer and replaced him with Chandler the man. Gone is the myth, and present is the humanity, faults and failings in full relief.

Chandler argues midway through “The Simple Art of Murder” that all fiction, from the most populist to the most literary, is about escapism. It’s not hard to imagine the writer’s greatest creation, Philip Marlowe himself, as an idealized, wish-fulfilling fantasy. Marlowe may have been neither tarnished nor afraid, but it’s become impossible for me to think of Chandler as anything but the embodiment of those two qualities, and surprisingly, I like him even more for it

Ed Boyer, my former editor at the Los Angeles Times, deep into "Southside" at a local pizzeria.

Southside

By Michael Krikorian

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Wanted Chef Dominique Crenn - Superhero to Many, Anarchist to Others - Returns To Los Angeles, Arrest Imminent

Nearly one year after she fled town following a very public assault, renowned chef Dominique Crenn is returning to Los Angeles where a warrant for her arrest remains active.

Crenn, who assaulted a rare and endangered Japanese Suzuki fish while it was in the possession of chef Josiah Citrin, is expected to be arrested as soon as she enters city limits which could be as early as Thursday, authorities said. ( http://krikorianwrites.com/blog/2014/3/23/chef-dominique-crenn-wanted-by-police-flees-to-france )

"We will have officers waiting at LAX, Union Station and various highway entrances to the city limits," said former LAPD homicide detective Sal LaBarbera, now in charge of the City of Los Angeles'  Fugitive Warrant Division (FWD). "I'm stunned she is coming back knowing full well she will be arrested. However, I understand she is not adverse to being handcuffed."

Crenn, the only woman chef in America with two Michelin stars - earned at her San Francisco restaurant Atelier Crenn -   will be risking the arrest to participate in the second annual All-Star Chef Classic event at the L.A. Live , the scene of the crime last year. 

"I have come to save the world from the mundane, from the cliche, from the boring," Crenn said in a phone interview at an undisclosed site. (A global positioning unit later pin-pointed the site as the southwest corner of Highland and Melrose.) 

Sources in the LAPD said it was very possible Crenn would be allowed to compete in tonight's All Star Chef Classic once she posts bail after her arrest.  Bail is expected to be set at $500,000. Pressure by the Japanese government is being cited as the chief reason the high bail, normally set at $100,00 for this crime.

Chef Jonathan Waxman believes the Los Angeles District Attorney's Office would face an uphill battle if they decide to press charges and take Crenn to trial for assault. 

"The main witness was consumed [and] therefore unable to testify, hence her ability to circumnavigate the charges," said Waxman, who will be at the L.A. Live event Saturday. .

Chef Citrin, whose restaurant Melisse in Santa Monica also has two Michelin stars, said he was going to avoid Crenn at the event.

"I'm going to keep my mise en place as far from her as possible," said Citrin "I'm avoiding danger this year."

In the brief phone interview, Crenn said that her actions,  her passions and even her recipes will all be unveiled in her first book, "Dominique Crenn: Metamorphosis of Taste" which is available for pre-order at http://www.amazon.com/Atelier-Crenn-Metamorphosis-Taste-Dominique/dp/0544444671  

Atelier Crenn: Metamorphosis of Taste

By Dominique Crenn

Nancy Silverton, seen below in a photo taken at the Mozza Kingdom with a woman who resembles Crenn, could not be reached for comment.

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White People Account For Disproportionate Amount of Crimes at Laundromats in Los Angeles County

Los Angeles - Although they account for only 17% of laundromat users here, white people were responsible for  a staggering 73% of all crimes committed at or near the washing and drying machine establishments of Los Angeles County last year, according to a federal study released Wednesday.

The Spokane-based Bookings Institute study, which analyzed crimes committed at or within a 50-foot radius of all Laundromats in L.A. County from January 1, 2014, to December 31,  2014, found that of the 2,417 crimes committed in the target area,  1,766 were allegedly committed by white people*.  These crimes ranged from a double homicide in Monterey Park. to the theft of a single doily in Toluca Lake.

"I think white criminals have discovered that laundromats are basically un-chartered, un-claimed outlaw territory," said William Dithers, who spearheaded the study dubbed "Operation Spin Cycle".  "Liquor stores, mom and pop groceries, gas stations and street robberies are pretty much wrapped up by other criminal elements. So, for the white thug, laundromats are the way to go. Not that in any way am I encouraging these deplorable acts on hard working, neat citizens."

The study, the first of its kind,  also showed that Chinese,  while traditionally associated with laundries, fared poorly, accounting for only 2.7% of total crime even though they made up 12% of the laundromat attendees. 

Mexicans  - both local and those from Mexico -, who comprise more than 71% of laundromat users, were suspected in only 5.8% of the crimes committed there. Authorities cited several reasons for this.

"Although they are best known for other things - most notably, making  tacos and napping -  Mexicans are not only one of the most laundry-friendly people in the Western Hemisphere, they are among laundry's most law-abiding citizens," Dithers said.. "The other thing about Mexicans is they are not particularly  good multi-taskers. So, for them to do laundry and commit crimes, is, well it's simply not in their wheelhouse." 

Black criminals were even less likely to commit crimes in a laundromat,  accounting for only 1.3% of crimes. among the lowest of any group on Earth. 

"The thing about black criminals is that they rarely go to laundromats for a couple of reason," said Matt Baylick. an associate professor criminal behavioral science at Stanford University.  "Black gang members don't like change and change is the primary loot at Laundromat crime.  For, say, a Swan or a Rollin' 60 or a Hoover to pull out a wad of bills, even if they are only ones. is fine.  But, to have a pocket full of change, even quarters, well, that is just not bool." 

*In this study  the term "white people" did not include Georgians, Armenians or Chechens or Mountain Jews.

Jeremiah Henderson Suspended After Only One Week As Beverage Director of Heaven's Best Restaurant

After yelling 'This beer and wine list sucks!" in the main dining room of "The First Supper", the greatest restaurant in all of heaven and the entire solar system, beverage director Jeremiah James Henderson, 32, was suspended for five working days by his boss, God, 4,569,269,007.

Henderson, who landed the prestigious job just a week ago after a relatively brief stint on the much-maligned, though extremely promising planet Earth, said the restaurant's chef, Georges Auguste Escoffier, was "too damn slow" in implementing his new beverage and food pairing suggestions. Henderson let this be known in the middle of Friday night service at the 667 star Michelin restaurant on the Southside of Heaven that serves only 250,000 fortunate diners a night.

"Look, kid, these old farts are still using a wine, booze and beer list curated  by Dionysus and Bacchus,' said Henderson with his infectious. but mischievously boyish  smile. "Dionysus was good.  Bacchus, too.. In their time, kiddo. In their time. Things have changed. Hell, they are still have Olde Babylon 800 in cans, for god's sake. They're still pouring  the Battle of Arbela Syrah, Alexander the Great Vineyard, 331 b.c. by the glass. Even Alexander himself thought that shit was way too tannic. Duder, in five or six centuries no one will be drinking red wine, anyway. Plus, God has his kid running the place and he's never there "

That "kid", General Manager Jesus Christ, 2014, who critics also say is rarely at his restaurant, preferring to travel and promote his own brands and self-help books, was reached in East Saturn where he is opening a branch of the popular "La Buffet 'd Jesus Christ." chain. 

"Jeremiah? I love that guy," said Christ, a carpenter by trade. "A week in and i love him.  He's got the fire. But, maybe a week off might chill him down a bit.  Look, I wouldn't have hired him if he didn't have the passion.  And do you have any idea how many "somms" come to heaven and tell me or John the Baptist they know all about wine, booze, beer and shit? But, Jeremiah, he did know. But, he also knew not to take it too seriously.." 

However, Christ said it wasn't the vast food and beverage knowledge that convinced him to hire Henderson, but rather a particular correspondence with an Earthling.

"In key positions here, before I take on anyone, I like to talk to the family and friends of the potential hire from their previous world," said Christ who grew up in a small town on Earth without a "normal" father. "So i talked to Jeremiah's father, cat named River Rock Mike,  He told me something that I thought was so moving, so soulful.  He told me that his son 'Jeremy wasn't bigger than life. He made the lives of others bigger.' 

"I heard that and I told our host, St. Peter 'That JJ guy ever come up in here and I'm on tour, hire him on the spot. You feel me, Pete?'  That's why we hired him. Because of what his father said. Not because he could blind identify a 149,000,047 B.C. Screaming Pterodactyl."

But,  after three days on the job, Henderson began to clash with Escoffier and chef de cuisine Fernand Point over the future direction of The First Supper's food and beverage parings. Jeremiah was urging the kitchen to incorporate more Thai and Vietnamese dishes on the menu, food he knew matched well with wines and beers he loved. That didn't go over well. Monday night, Jeremiah took a 10 and had a martini with a bleu cheese-stuffed olive backed with a tumbler of garage-made California Apple cider he had brought with him from Earth. He then returned to the dining room and let it rip.

After being suspended during service, Henderson stormed out of the restaurant and went to a hill overlooking the entire world and sat on a lone chair arranged to appreciate the view. A reporter caught up with him. Henderson rose from the chair. He started getting nostalgic for his previous jobs, all of them on Earth, which looked so little, so fragile, yet so damn achingly beautiful  on this heavenly night. Henderson took off his L.A, Kings cap and wiped his brow with the back of his wrist. He sniffled a few times and his eyes grew as shiny as the stars when he wondered aloud what his family and his beloved crew were doing. He even lamented leaving so soon.  

"I wonder if they're missing me. You think they miss me, bud?"

The reporter assured them they did indeed. "Very much so. More than you know."

Henderson pointed to the now-vacant chair. "My crew used to make fun of me because I was always late. They'd send me pictures of an empty chair like that one and say I was there in spirit. Sweet, huh?"

Yeah.

"Earth gets a bad rap lotta the times, but when it's on, bud, when it's on, no place in the universe can beat it. One time, I had the crew dancing to James Brown on a hardwood floor in their stocking feet, sliding around and jumping on the bed like we was five-years-old. Pure, unfiltered, unrestrained  joy. Get on up!" I'll always remember that. Get on up!" 

The reporter asked if Henderson was concerned when he came back to work in a week that he would still have his job at The First Supper.

"I'm not worried at all," said Henderson as he gazed off at Mount Olympus. "But, either way, it's bool.  I hear Zeus is hiring. Yowza!"

Then Jeremiah Henderson looked even further away. Off at galaxies so distant they don't even have formal names. "Maybe I'll just go traveling. Rock a few casbahs.  Hey, kid, you know the best part about traveling?"

The reporter thought about that for awhile, then said 'No. What?'

"Gettin' lost."

This story was reported by Mike Henderson, Taylor Grant, Kate Baratta, Alexis S. Kozac, Gary Alan (who is often mistakenly called Alan Gary),  Bethany Walls, Jared Hooper, Adam Vourvoulis, Verona Masongsong, Daniel Flores, Kim Trac, Rachel Kerswell, Matthew Kaner and  Kate Green. It was written by Morty Goldstein, Jr.

Twitter nom is  @makmak47

Chef Matt Molina Resigns From Mozza To Pursue Career As Race Car Driver, Silverton Calls Him the"George Washington of Mozza"

James Beard Award-winning chef Matt Molina stunned the Los Angeles restaurant world, his family and even his boss, Nancy Silverton, when he announced Saturday he was leaving his job as the Executive Chef of Mozza to chase his dream of becoming a professional race car driver.

"Matt is like the George Washington of the Mozza kitchen," said Silverton shortly after hearing Molina was moving one.  "I'm stunned he is leaving. Especially to race cars."

Within one hour of the news, Team  McLaren announced that Molina, who has been secretly testing road and race cars, had signed a seven-figure contract to be the chief test driver for the esteemed British automobile manufacturer.  McLaren founder Ron Dennis said it was "with profound relief I can finally let the world know it was Matt Molina behind the wheel when the McLaren P1 recently lapped the Nordschilfe at the Nurgurging in under seven minutes."

It had been assumed that McLaren test pilot Chis Goodwin had been driving the P1 during this stunning lap. Check out the video of Molina in the P1 at the Nordschilfe;  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9IWiTpWeiM

Molina had been hinting he would leave to race cars for months. The San Gabriel Valley native  who won the James Bead Award for Outstanding Chef in the Pacific region in 2012 ( http://www.grubstreet.com/2012/05/matt-molina-james-beard-award-mozza.html) was often seen wearing a golf cap with the letter "M" on it, but most thought it meant for either "Matt" or "Molina", It is now known it symbolized McLaren.

It was a 2014 trip to Las Vegas to celebrate the birthday of his friend Adam Levine that really charged Molina when he got to drive an Aston Martin Vanquish S at a local track. "Matty was really happy when he came back from that racing weekend," said former Osteria Mozza sous chef Chris Feldmeier. ."If I'm not mistaken, I think he even asked me how my children were doing. I don't have any kids, but, still." 

News that Molina, who worked with Silverton at Campanile, was leaving stunned the Mozza family.

In New York City, Mario Batali, who gave Molina his nickname "Ponce" because of his uncanny ability to get lost in Italy, wished him well. 

"i have known Ponce for 20 years and have driven long on the golf course and slowly on the 405 with him and  he is truly great at both, but his true metier is in the saute pan,"

Batali added he expected Mclaren's arch rival to try to lure Molina away..

"i wish him the best of luck with the McLaren team, but do not be surprised if the Ferrari team comes knocking," Batali said. "Matt's heart, his palate and his engine are forged of steel and titanium near Modena in Emilia Romagna."

In Los Angeles, there was sadness.

"I am saddened and shocked," said Kate Green, Silverton's assistant. "Hey, let me ask you something. Do you know if I will still be able to get free food with Matty gone?"

Silverton had little to say.

"It's really sad Matty is leaving," said Silverton. "Like I mentioned, the strange thing to me is his new job, racing cars. Every time I've ever been in his car, he drove like an old lady."

Still, she praised her chef who opened Pizzeria Mozza in 2006 and Osteria Mozza months later. "Matty will always be part of the Mozza family."

Liz "Go Go" Hong, formerly the chef at Pizzeria Mozza will move over to the Osteria Mozza as executive chef.  

Molina has not ruled out a return to cooking and opening his own restaurant. 

"The race  season lasts only eight months," said Molina as he enjoyed a smoked short rib at Odysseus and Penelope on La Brea. "I'll have to do something during the other four." 

A sources close to Molina said he would either open a restaurant or join the PGA Tour. Another source said Molina has been offered a job as the private cook for the Tips For Jesus guy

AFter his farewell "lineup" talk, Matt Molina listens as Nancy Silverton toasts his mozza career. Pastry chef Dahlia Narvaez Looks on

*For the 2015 season McLaren has already signed Fernando Alonzo and Jenson Button as their Formula One drivers, however Molina is expected to replace either one if they falter 

Michael Hastings Crash Investigation Still Not Complete

Nearly a year after Michael Hastings died in a Hancock Park car crash so explosive it set off widespread conspiracy chatter, the investigation into his death is still not complete.

However, the LAPD detective in charge of the case maintains there was nothing sinister about the crash that killed the investigative reporter on June 18, 2013 and she is simply awaiting reports to officially close the investigation. 

“I am still waiting on some reports that have taken awhile," said an annoyed-sounding LAPD Det. Connie White, who has maintained - almost since the morning of the crash - that Hastings' death was accidental and not the fiery result of a "black ops" plot to silence the investigative reporter. Hastings was said to be working on a expose of CIA Director John O. Brennan at the time of the crash and told friends he was going off the radar for awhile.

Hastings was best known as the reporter of a Rolling Stone Magazine profile of General Stanley McChrystal in which the then-general and his staff mocked President Obama and Vice President Biden. Largely because of the article, McChrystal was fired.  

In more current light, Hastings filed the first extensive report on recently-freed POW Bowe Bergdahl back in June, 2012 that includes, among its roughly 10,000 words, the line "He decided to walk away". Here's that article. http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/americas-last-prisoner-of-war-20120607 

According to Det. White, because it is not a criminal investigation - and  crashes that are criminal investigations get higher priority - Hastings' report is often lowered in the priority rankings as new criminal cases are so frequently assigned to LAPD traffic detectives.

White says Hastings was speeding, lost control and hit a large palm tree on Highland Avenue.  Det. White said  "In the fight between car and tree, tree wins." 

Michael Hastings

Oct. 2013, Krikorian Writes' final report on Hastings crash

http://krikorianwrites.com/blog/2013/10/2/hastings

A video tape, copied off of a  security camera by someone's cell phone, is seen here  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzWHZngfONo

This is the first story I wrote on the crash, it was for Who What Why website.

http://krikorianwrites.com/blog/2013/7/16/x9pujjqlzq6bbc0kvdkm1ff9f1mhjl

City of Los Angeles Proclaims May 30th "Nancy Silverton Day"

The City of Los Angeles officially proclaimed today, May 30th to be "Nancy Silverton Day", capping off a storybook month that began when she won the James Beard Foundation Award four weeks ago for Outstanding Chef in the United States.

The declaration, at the end of a very long City Council meeting,  was  presented to Silverton by Councilman Paul Koretz, who  - along with Councilmembers Ton LaBonge and Herb J. Wesson, Jr. -  lavished so many superlatives on the revered Mozza owner an outsider would have thought she had solved the traffic problem in town.

Silverton, as always, cool and sharp, in sunglasses and Marni, took the award and thanked her co-workers at Mozzas in Los Angeles, Newport Beach, Singapore, Stalingrad, and San Diego, as well as Chi Spacca.

"There are hundreds of people who help me everyday, working hard to hopefully make your day a better day," said Silverton, who was accompanied by her father, Larry, and her driver, Juan Manuel Fangio, who sped to the nearest trademark office to register that quote.

"i'm really honored to get this "Day" because it recognizes what an important industry I belong to," said Nancy, who, only two weeks ago, in a worldwide poll, came in 2nd place to Muhammad Ali as the most beloved person living on Earth. "The restaurant industry provides jobs to thousands and thousands of people. The joy of people have in eating our food, well, it's important to the spirit and life of our city."

Yeah, everybody, it's officially Nancy Silverton Day!  For me, that's just about everyday.

365

The Lost Corner of Highland and Melrose, aka The Wonderful Life of Nancy Silverton

THE ANNUAL MOZZA CHRISTMAS STORY based on  the  1946 Frank Capra zultra classic movie "It's a Wonderful Life", (screenplay  by Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett) 

FADE IN

A rumpled man exits a rusty, hubcap-less Ford Econoline van In front of a burnt-out, graffiti splattered, abandoned building at Highland and Melrose, takes a wobbly-stretch and a long, lusty swig from a bottle of Night Train. 

"Is that, is that, is that David?" asks Nancy Silverton incredulously.

 "Yes, that's David Rosoff," says a little man, "The years have not been kind."

This hunched-over Rosoff  - eyes marinated in Popov, unkempt black and grey hair wildly spilling out from the bottom of his tattered Members Only baseball cap, rumpled black sport coat four sizes too big, mismatched shoes untied - stumbles on the trash strewn sidewalk and then, as if it was a most ordinary act,  takes a piss right onto the fire hydrant on the southwest corner of Highland and Melrose. Of the two dozen people hanging out on the corner. not one pays this any attention. 

"Damn, he's a mess," Nancy says standing off above it all. The man with her nods in agreement.

"Well, Nancy," says the little man, "Since you asked to have never been born, I thought it was my duty to show you what would have happened to your friends and co-workers if, indeed, you were never born." 

"Who's those hookers over there?" asks Nancy, eyeing a brown and red-haired Asian woman with the pallor of braised Brussels sprouts, vacant eyes,. bitten-off fingernails, a seductive body set - wobbly - on 6-inch heels and a still-smoking, straight-shooter crack pipe sticking out from her cleavage.  Next to her is a six-foot white girl, thinner than a haricot verte, nibbling with a blank stare on a flageolet bean and wearing tight, dirty once-white dress so small it barely covers her pate de foie gras "Ya know. in a those two remind me of tramp 'ho versions my old Osteria  chef, Liz "Go Go" Hong." and my garde manger Anna.

"That is Liz "Go Go" Hong. That is Anna Nguyen."

"So sad," said Nancy. "What happened to them?"

"It's not what happened to her. It's what didn't happen to her.  You. "

*(If you missed out on the news, Nancy Silverton, distraught over many things including a mysterious mass on her index finger, a pain on the side of her knee, a leaking cappuccino maker and, most distressingly,  the unfathomable horror of repeatedly enduring  the man she lives with not putting the cap back on the toothpaste, pleaded with Zeus and the others of his ilk *(Jesus, Muhammad Ali, Moses, Audrey Hepburn,  Buddha, Roberto Clemente etc...) to have never been born. Now, a wannabe-angel, eager to do some good and earn his wings, has been sent down from the mountains to show Nancy what life in Los Angeles would be like if, indeed, she was never born.

It is shocking to see how the life of this one woman so dramatically changed the course of history in our city .As we catch up with Nancy and her angel-to-be, they are sitting atop the pavilion over pumps #4 and #5 at the Mobil gas station, a falcon's-eye view of the activities going on at the corner of Highland and Melrose, which, in the old "With Nancy" world, was the best corner in America, and now, without her existence, has become a cesspool of depravity, a lingering, wretched stop on the road to nowhere, a city's worth of squalid urban nightmares squished into one foreboding intersection. It has become what is now known the world over as "The Lost Corner".

Another disheveled man appears and grabs Nancy's attention. The guy is yelling at passing cars.

"What's that old, grey-haired guy saying to the cars?"

"Punch lines of bad jokes," said the wannabe angel. "That's Ralph Waxman."

"Tell me he's still not using that joke about the bird that cusses."

"'Fraid so."

Nancy notices a 20-something woman with “wearing” a sandwich board that reads “Who wants to be my friend?”. She pesters every passerby.

“Wait,” Nancy says to the wanna be angel. “Isn’t that Kate Green? She has more friend than anybody.”

“She had more friends than anybody. But, since you never existed, Well, things turned out differently.”

Heading east on Melrose, pushing a shopping cart piled high with T-Shirts with slogans like "My Cousins went to San Bernadino and All I Got Was This Lousy Shirt" is an Asian woman with grey hair and a bright purple jump suit with the "Ross Dress For Less" tags still attached.

"Is that, is that Carly Kim?"

"Yes, that's Carly Kim. Times were hard for her without you spending hundreds of thousands of dollars at her store." 

Kim wheels her cart - which, like most everything on The Lost Corner, is wobbly - past a weary and dazed  young man slumped against the abandoned structure carving up a wood pallet with a butter knife. Within seconds, the pallet is transformed into a salumi board.

"The bum with the little knife. Is that Matt Michaelson?"

"'Fraid so." 

A windblown newspaper tumbles across Melrose and then flutters up above the gas pumps where Nancy and this wannabe angel observe the corner. She looks at the headlines in disbelief. 

"Drug Kingpin Will Simons Arrested in Albuquerque"

"Will broke bad?" Nancy asks.

"Yeah. since there was never a Campanile and Mozza. he didn't get work after he left Valentino so he went home. and fell in with the tweekers."

Nancy stares again at another headline. "L.A. Murder Rate Tops Mogadishu's"

"I thought the homicide rate was going down."

"Well, in the rest of the country it did go down. But, in Los Angeles it soared. They say it's because all those gang members you hired at La Brea Bakery and Mozza went strong to their evil ways since you were never born."

"Ok. And this headline. "LA Ranked Worst in Nation for bread for 25th year in a Row. Worst in pizza, too." 

"You know, without you. the bread scene. well, it never happened. Same thing with pizza."

Nancy reads another headline. "Man Sentenced to Community Service  For Using Burrata On  Grilled Cheese Sandwich."

"Nancy, are you starting to get it?"

Yes, I am. This town is whack without me."

A rare Maserati stretch limo pulls up,  an exquisite  woman exits. and begins handing money to the folks of The Lost Corner. 

"is that who i think it is?".

"Yes that's Alisa Burket, the world-famous concert pianist. She helps these intouchables whenever she's in town." 

"Helen."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Look, she walked right by Matt Michaelson like she doesn't even know him." 

"Nancy, how many times do I have to remind you?  Without you, they don't know each other. Like so many couples here. Nick and Katie, AD and Celeste, on and on.  Speaking of couples that would have never got together, look over there."

Walking out of the Yum Yum Donuts, with her Yum Yum Donuts apron on is Dahllia Narvaez, the sous pastry chef there. She's carrying  a bagful of donuts. She gets near The Lost Corner and throws the bag toward the milling, maddening crowd. There's a scramble for the fallen donuts. The largest of them savagely  grabs four donuts. 

"Well," says Nancy, "Chris always did like donuts. At least some things didn't change."

As the scramble for the donuts gets more intense, a LAPD car appears. Two officers exit the cruiser.

"What a minute," says Nancy, "The cops. That's Rebecca and Derek. How did that happen?"

"With the increase in crime, the LAPD took to hiring anybody who applied." 

But, Rebecca and Derek, they look at the corner and shrugged and get back in their vehicle. The Last Corner has no hope.

"Look at that missionary. The one with the sign."

Below is a young pretty woman holding a sign that reads, "Come Let The Mormons Save Your Lost Soul". It's Verona Masongsong.

"Poor thing," says Nancy.

"Yes, Without your guidance, Verona remained lost in the Mormon religion. Alas, she never drank, she never ate Chad's fat. Look. All that booty is gone." 

Amidst all this is a piano that  looks like it survived - barely - the Battle of Leningrad. A man who hasn't been anywhere near running water for a week plomps down on the rickety piano bench. It shatters. Still, he rises, and starts playing the piano. As messed up as that piano is. the song comes through and it fits the corner. "Everything Happens To Me."

"Taylor can still play the piano, at least," Nancy says.

Just then a taco truck pulls to a stop in a two-foot high swath of weeds near the Highland sidewalks.  Only one person approaches the window to order. It's Ryan DeNicola. He looks penny-less.  

"One taco. No filling"

"That will be a nickel," says the order taker, Kate “G” Berg,. “Oh, actually whatever you can afford. We don’t care much anymore about the money I just want to make enough to get high so I can go the Berlin club and , well, none of your goddamn business.”

"Can I pay you next week?"

“G” Berg turns to the taco chef, Joe Tagorda, who says nothing, but puts his head down and starts making a taco.

Forty minutes later, Ryan asks "Where's my taco?"

"We're in the weeds," says G Berg

"No shit, lady."

From above. Nancy and the wannabe angel look on. 

###

"Say, Angel guy, whatever happened to my old boyfriend? Whatever happened to Michael Krikorian?"

"He died years ago."  

The two look on at the scene below for several silent minutes. Finally Nancy turns to this trying-to-become-an-angel chap. 

"So how well are you connected to Zeus and all those others?"

"Not well. Zeus doesn't even know my name. I told you I'm a rookie. Trying to earn my wings."

"I don't believe in fairy tales and all that rigamarolll, but I'm guessing in your line of work. the way to get some of those wings you keeping yapping about is to do something good for mankind. For the city.".  

"Yes, that would get me my wings for sure."

"Well,  then how about i take it back. The part where I say "I wish i was never born." You caught me at a bad moment.  i want to have lived my life just the way I lived it. My successes, my knockdowns, all of it. I want to live my liife,"

"Great. Great. I'll put in  a request right now."

Immediately, lightening  strikes, the thunder roars. the rains pour down. the earth quakes, Lyanka opens a dance studio, Steve Mize's car alarm goes off, Eva knits a three-piece suit, more lightening flashes, Megan falls in love, Verona has a drink, Pilar gets a starring role, Paige's U-turn ticket is voided, Christine wins a cookie shoppe, Lola and her scooter careen off the road but miss a skyscraper, Ralph gets a gig opening for Diana Krall, Arielle sprints by oblivious to the chaos, Tiffany falls in love, Sean gets a part, Zeke senses a screenplay coming on, more thunder, Luis buys a Ferrari, Alfie falls in love, trees topple, Pasty gets a part, a befuddle Derek wakes up in a police car, Lance sells a poster on E-Bay, Dahlia announces she's "sick of donuts, fauxnuts and cronuts," Ricky the waiter falls on the wagon, Alex the manager leaps out of the wagon's way, flowers arrive from Newport, Singapore and Macao, a cocktail shaker rockets out of Jason's grip, the down pour up-shifts to Bangladesh rains. A flood is coming. The Ford van floats away.  The grime is being washed off the Lost Corner. The sun breaks through. 

The Next Morning:  

Nancy Silverton's bed is laid out with her work attire. Marni, Marni Marni. Nancy exits the shower. From downstairs, she hears Thelonious Monk playing "Everything Happens to Me".  It's sad, but very beautiful.

She grabs her Italian toothbrushes and reaches for the toothpaste.

"Michael! Michael!. You did it again!"

No reply, Monk is the only sound from below. Nancy looks at the toothpaste without the cap on, shrugs, and brushes her teeth. 

Five minutes later, in a black Porsche Turbo S, Nancy Silverton is being driven  to Mozza, to the mythical Lost Corner of Highland and Melrose, by Michael Krikorian. On Beverly Boulevard, they get the green light at Rossmore.   

"Listen to this." He puts on a CD . It's Frank Sinatra singing "Nancy With the Laughing Face."

"If I don't see her each day I miss her. Gee, what a thriil it is to kiss her. No angel could ever replace,  Nancy with the laughing face."

The Porsche is floored. The engine roars. The oleanders along Beverly flash by. Whoosh!  It's a wonderful life. 

###

It's a Wonderful Life