It’s almost a dare to not shop here. Newport Beach has become a capital of Southern California fashion, known for its byzantine map of brick-and-mortar boutiques. Now classic hotels are getting reboots, renewing their courtship of you and your discretionary income. Underneath the manicured verandas and yachty veneer of this OC beach burg, there are plenty of wild, upstart imaginations at work. Newport will never be LA—and that’s precisely the allure.

Fashion Island 

Most destinations have a payoff place; the one that encapsulates everything about its appeal—landscape, built environment, view, food, drink, people, style. For me, it’s Fashion Island. The distinctive open-air shopping center was the one that started it all. Fifty-five years ago, developers turned the traditional mall inside out by placing corridors outside, meandering through Mediterranean gardens and koi ponds.

Today, it remains potently relevant on the retail front as dozens of digitally native brands have hand-picked the center to debut physical stores. There’s Buck Mason, Johnnie-O and Something Navy alongside newcomers like Paired Up, a sneaker store that feels more like an art gallery. The athleisure game is strong here—with shiny flagships from Travis Mathew, Alo and Offline by Aerie.

In January, they’ll add Neighborhood Goods, a neo-department store with locations in Chelsea Market and Austin. “People still like tangible experiences when they’re shopping for clothes,” says Jim Davis, chief customer officer of Buck Mason, the made-in-LA brand that recently opened a breezy store with a vintage Porsche as the centerpiece. “The space has this timeless, midcentury vibe.”

Inside the Buck Mason boutique, which boasts breezy interiors and a vintage Porsche as its centerpiece.

In Newport’s culinary scene, next year Maestro’s will debut its newest concept, Ocean 48, and the drumroll has begun for RH’s four-story Design Gallery with a rooftop restaurant. Meanwhile, a local private equity group, Eagle Four Partners, is banking on the hotel scene. Across from Nordstrom, VEA Newport Beach, which opened in July, revved up the old Marriott with a sleek tropical vibe vis-à-vis Gensler, Burton Studio, and Houston Tyner Architects. VEA is sleek, cosmopolitan, and low-key. A reverse-engineered circular waterfall—The Oculus— is integrated into a pier-inspired design that lures guests from the sexy lobby to the restaurant veranda and pool bar with an unobstructed view of the undulating golf course at Newport Beach Country Club and the ocean beyond.

Coming soon, Eagle Four has teamed up with The Pendry for a complete overhaul of the Island Hotel with nightlife top of mind. The 295 guest rooms will include 82 suites with floor-to-ceiling windows that open to balconies, and the property will showcase three restaurants, a members-only club, an elaborate spa, and ample event space. It marks the brand’s third Southern California hotel after San Diego and West Hollywood.

The bar at the recently opened VEA Newport Beach, which was designed by Gensler, Burton Studio, and Houston Tyner Architects.

Lido Marina Village, Balboa Peninsula 

Some places create odes to style. Others create it. Lido Marina Village manages both. What was once home to wedding boats and dive bars has given way to the one of the finest examples of adaptive reuse on the California coast—one that preserved the mariner’s soul of Newport while luring in top-shelf retailers.

A nautical palette of high gloss, teak wood, and brass riffs on the adjacent docks. There are other fascinating subcultures to pull inspiration from, including The Wedge—a colossally dangerous surf break on the Southeast edge of Balboa Peninsula. “There are these amazing little shops that cater to a specific surf, beach, and casual lifestyle, all with a highly-curated, fun aesthetic,” says Scott Richards, founder of Slightly Choppy, maker of retro pennants that celebrate local surf breaks.

The boutiques not to miss: Alchemy Works’ expertly sourced vintage section; Maxine, a milliner known for a sublime curation of international brands (French sunglasses, Peruvian jewelry); SeaVees, local maker of kicks; and stockist of Slightly Choppy, Shoppe Amber Interiors, Marrow Fine, Elyse Walker and Love Shack Fancy.

A Duffy boat ferries passengers in and around Lido Marina Village and Balboa Peninsula.

Meanwhile, the culinary scene is be-seen with Nobu, Zinqué, and Malibu Farm. The margarita of note (every destination in SoCal must have a margarita hit list) is the Lido House Hotel, one of those rarified resort settings to wade in aesthetic pursuits swirling a Topside Margarita (Don Julio Blanco, Hellfire, Grand Marnier, fresh juice). Topside is the neighborhood’s only rooftop bar, and its cocktails and Champagne pairings make it a celebratory kind of place. On the ground floor, Mayor’s Table does moody, downtempo elegance and one of the best burgers in town (another contender is Arc Butcher & Baker a few blocks away).

The 130-room Lido has an architectural character that’s “Newport Beach nautical,” a West Coast interpretation of Cape Cod Style. Five local design firms outfitted the beach cottages for a decidedly local feel, and a cascading rope sculpture by Laguna Beach artist Jim Olarte is a scene stealer.

Forgoing a car while on Lido is easier than ever. There are beach cruisers, courtesy of the hotel, and the hyper-local Duffy Boats offer eco-friendly shuttling from Isle to harbor—and boast new-wave hues like seafoam and mango. Also cute and electric: The Moke, a retro-styled, low-speed vehicle that’s open-air and photogenic.

The post Uncovering the New in Old Newport Beach appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Cider House

Marie Buck

Why leave San Diego, arguably the craft beer capital of the world, to drink craft beer in Los Angeles? It’s a question that LA’s Ogopogo Brewing cofounder and former San Diegan Jason De La Torre thinks he can answer.

“The beer scene here has grown so much over the last 10 years,” he says, pointing to icons like Enegren and Highland Park, and newcomers like Hop Secret and Party Beer Co., as well worth the trek. But to experience the best of LA beer, some pre-planning (and maybe a rideshare) is required. Ready to brave some traffic? Here are a few of La La Land’s best breweries to seek out.

Benny Boy Brewing + Cider House

Located in the rapidly developing “fermentation district,” Benny Boy is the first and only combination ciderhouse and brewery in Los Angeles. To complement its rustic design, patrons should expect European-inspired beers like saisons and Belgian styles alongside hard ciders that range from bone dry to semisweet. For wine fans, there are a few natty collaborations with Pali Wine Co.

BEER TO TRY: Mr. Fluffy’s Pale, 6.5% ABV

CIDER TO TRY: Pippin, Straight Up, 7.5% ABV

1821 Daly Street, Lincoln Heights

Ogopogo Brewing

Ogopogo Brewing

With craft beer, wine, and even canned mimosas and sangria, there’s something for everyone at this Eastside destination. It’s less than four years old yet somehow the oldest brewery in San Gabriel, putting it at the forefront of LA’s ever-growing beer sprawl. The brews may be named after folkloric monsters, but they’re anything but scary.

BEER TO TRY: Boeman Belgian White Ale, 5% ABV

864 Commercial Avenue, San Gabriel

Highland Park Brewery

Since 2014, Highland Park has helped shape Chinatown’s craft beer scene into a world-class destination. Beers range from easy-drinking lagers to heavily hopped IPAs, barrel-aged stouts, and everything in between. The accompanying food menu, with bar staples like burgers, pretzels, and tots, remains equally approachable, with suggested beer pairings listed for every dish.

BEER TO TRY: Vienna Lager, 5% ABV

1220 North Spring Street, Chinatown

El Segundo Brewing Company

El Segundo’s chief vision officer, Thomas Kelley, says San Diegans have no idea how good his company’s West Coast IPAs are: “It’s the core of what we do, and we think we do it better than most.” That’s a bold claim to make to our beer drinkers, but considering El Segundo’s been churning out award winners for over 10 years, he may be onto something.

BEER TO TRY: Mayberry IPA, 7.2% 140

Main Street, El Segundo

Brewjeria

Brewjería Company

The Latino-owned brewery mixes Belgian brewing traditions with a modern, Spanglish twist by using ingredients like passion fruit and hibiscus alongside American and noble hops. While the beer quality is paramount, so is community support: a recent collaboration series with Norwalk Brew House and South Central Brewing Company raised funds for local migrant workers, and sold out almost immediately.

BEER TO TRY: Diosa de Oro Belgian Golden Strong, 8.2% ABV

4937 Durfee Avenue, Pico Rivera

Crowns & Hops

Crowns & Hops

The post Hopping Up to Los Angeles appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Patrick Glennon

Patrick Glennon

“Do you know who he is?”

People often whisper this when talking about Patrick Glennon. As vice president of sales for Santa Monica Seafood, Glennon is one of the foremost sustainable seafood experts in the country. That’s accomplishment enough. But a few months ago, he posted photos of his trip to cook at the James Beard House. Then he competed on Alton Brown’s Food Network show, Cutthroat Kitchen. He easily dispatched a few contestants, then barely (and debatably) lost in the finals.

How many fish salesmen cook at that level? Who exactly was Glennon? I started asking around. One local restaurant lifer explained: “Two decades ago, he was the Grant Achatz or William Bradley.”

Knowing both fishing and kitchen life, it’s not terribly surprising that two of the biggest names in San Diego seafood have this common thread: Booze, in life-withering amounts. Both Glennon and Tommy Gomes (Catalina Offshore) nearly drank themselves to death, got sober, then poured that once-misdirected energy into good, honest work until they became the faces of an industry. Glennon doesn’t live in San Diego, but as fishmonger to top chefs and hyperactive culinary activist, he’s in local kitchens every week. His name is synonymous with top-notch seafood.

“Paddy was telling me…” a chef might say of some new study on sustainable seafood. Or “I got Paddy barking in my ear about how there’s no way my diver scallops are actually diver scallops…” another will smile, knowing Glennon’s right.

Chefs trust Glennon because he was once one of the top up-and-coming chefs in the country. He trained in France under greats Alain Ducasse, Jacques Maximin and Bruno Cirino. An early pilot for the American version of Iron Chef was filmed at The Mirage in Vegas, featuring William Shatner as the host and Glennon as “the American chef” (the pilot was slated for TMC, but never aired). After a long, almost-famous run in SoCal that involved bribing cops, brandishing automatic weapons atop Mick Fleetwood’s restaurant, and some groundbreaking cooking—Glennon found himself hundreds of thousands in debt, working in a fish freezer for minimum wage, and reeking of booze.

This is how one of America’s most promising chefs lost everything, and fought his way back.

You trained under some French greats for eight years. You came back to America in the 80s as a hugely talented young chef and went to… Newport Beach?

Yeah. I was forbidden by the French guys to work for some of the top American chefs of that era, like Wolfgang Puck. They wanted me to use my training for myself and not to make those guys any bigger. The French guys considered the American chefs culinary thieves. Jean-Louis Palladin was in charge of placing me coming back from France. I stayed at the Watergate for a week and then—the biggest mistake I made—I told him I wanted to go back to Newport. I should’ve gone to Chicago or New York City. The pool of opportunity got small quick.

Where’d you cook in Southern California?

I was the chef de cuisine for Ritz-Carlton Four Seasons during the ’80s and early ’90s. I was also the chef for the Le Meridian hotel in Coronado. The Meridians were known to have the best restaurants in the country at the time. [Mister A’s longtime chef] Stéphane Voitzwinkler was there; he was part of the entourage of young cooks we brought over from France. Tim Connelly of [San Diego farm] Connelly Gardens grew everything for me. We had a tasting menu—people hadn’t seen that before. We had to explain it to them. We’d put anchovies on the plate and people would get mad because it’s bait food. We were way ahead of our time for San Diego and Top 5 Zagat in the country. [Top French chef] Michel Richard came down from L.A. with a group of 12 French chefs just to have a meal with us. In the kitchen it was all the Frenchies and me. We’d have our trucks already packed and ready to go—after dinner service we’d go across the border and surf in Mexico for the weekend. It was a different time.

Then you went Hollywood?

I got big money thrown at me to open this place in L.A. for one of the head models of Guess Jeans, called Bilboque. Stefan came with me. Iman, Madonna, Stallone, Rod Stewart—they were regulars. But even with all these celebrities and notoriety, it was very short-lived. They said my salary was $175K. But we weren’t seeing any money. After three months of not getting paid, we jacked all the equipment and sold it to pay my crew. I was fine with them not paying me, but not paying my crew? Irish carjack.

That’s where you hooked up with Jean-Francois Meteigner?

Jean Francois and I took over all the hotels owned by Severyn Ashkenazy—the Bel Age, Mondrian, Hermitage.

I heard there are celebrities in Los Angeles.

It was wild. We did Pamela and Tommy’s wedding at the Bel Age. I cooked in John Travolta’s home. Same with Guns N Roses. We cooked for New Kids on the Block, Sting, Vanilla Ice, the Stones. But then the recession hit. No one wanted to hire us because we were high-paid chefs during a recession. So I partnered with [longtime New York pastry shop owners] The Ferraras. They wanted to open restaurants in L.A. We had a small farm in Topanga where we lived and smoked pot and drank all day. We farmed at least 40 percent of the food we cooked. This is when alcohol started to catch up to me.

When that didn’t pan out, you teamed up with Mick Fleetwood?

Yeah. I partnered with Mick to open Fleetwood’s. I was chef-owner. We had a show on VH1 that was Mick jamming with everyone, like Marky Mark. Little Feat was our house band. But we ran into liquor license problems from the get-go. The grand jury thought we were mafia. They pulled our liquor license on a technicality that went back 40 years before we bought the building. We did Michael Jackson’s release party. We’d pay the fire and police department not to show up.

Sounds pretty above-board.

Pretty much all the business we were doing was illegal, since we didn’t have the license to gather or sell liquor. This was during the riots. When the riots happened, we were on the roof with semi-automatics.

From rock venue with semi-automatics you joined… Disney?

Mick and I were in “keep the lights on” mode. That’s when I left high-end cuisine and started chasing Cheesecake Factory style money. These guys came in one day and asked me to rebuild the spider Encounter restaurant at LAX with some Disney designers. That was fu**ing horrific. We rebuilt that with John Rivera Sedlar. I was still cooking on the line and in charge of everything else—working 100 hours a week and keeping myself numb with alcohol the entire time. I think that’s when I lost my culinary soul—and my soul, period. I don’t even remember those years. It was a decade of blur.

So you got out?

Yeah. I went to Vermont. My wife at the time was not mentally stable. I thought I’d find a nice place for her. I went to New England Culinary Institute, where I was chef-instructor for fine dining restaurants. I used to train and handpick the kids for Daniel and Le Cirque. I built my own seafood distribution business there called Paddy the Fishmonger—market, distributor, restaurant. Alcoholism took that down.

What lured you back?

I was on the golf course one day and the phone rang. It was Jean-François. He wanted me to take over L’Orangerie in Beverly Hills. They brought me in as a consultant with Ludo Lefebvre was in the kitchen.

What was the final straw for you as a professional chef?

I opened up Hollywood & Vine Diner with a group that was supposed to build-out concepts. The builder overshot the build-out by millions. We opened the doors with no money. I couldn’t be in another restaurant with no money. That was the end of my road with alcohol. I was blacking out. I couldn’t be on the line without alcohol.

How’d you get out?

My fish vendor said, “You’re better than this—let’s get you out of this industry.” I started working nights icing fish for minimum wage on the docks. I didn’t get sober right away, believe me. I finally got sober in 2005. I figure I was about a month from death. I thought I was done. Eventually, I worked my way up and became the fish monger to the star chefs.

You’ve become known as a “culinary activist”—an absolute bulldog about sustainable, eco-friendly seafood. Three things a consumer can do? 

First, buy US-caught fish, which is all under sustainable management. It doesn’t mean that Georges Bank is going to be recovered, but it does mean that anything from that area is in a rehabilitating, science-based recovery program.   Second,   Look up your fish on Monterrey Bay Aquarium’s site, www.seafoodwatch.org. They even have an app now. Third, look for the MSC (Marine Stewardship Council) certification. You’ll see it in most stores, from Whole Foods to Costco and Wal-Mart. It’s a really well-managed, science-based organization.

What’s the worst (most unsustainable) fish that people buy way too often?

Improperly farmed salmon. It’ll say “Atlantic salmon.” But unless the menu or the store is specific about the actual farm it came from, it’s most likely not from a sustainable farm. Chefs pay a premium for sustainably farmed fish—so they’re gonna put the name on the label or menu. They wouldn’t try to sell you a Cadillac by calling it “a car.” So “Atlantic salmon” basically means the same thing as “car.” It means nothing. If it says the farm, good chance it’s a sustainable operation.

What’s the biggest form of seafood fraud you see?

Mixing species. Sometimes a restaurant might call it grouper or sole on the menu, but it’s really swai—a Vietnamese catfish from Mekong River waters I wouldn’t drink. It’s often the seafood company who’s lying to the chefs, so it’s my job to try to educate them without “schooling” them. For instance, I’ll be bidding to sell a chef No. 1 ahi tuna and they’ll say ‘No thanks, I’m getting an insanely good price.’ I’ll have them take me to the walk-in cooler and show me the fish. It’s almost never No. 1 ahi. Or the chef thinks they’re getting Loch Duart salmon, but what they’re getting is actually Canadian salmon. If the fish was sold to them whole, they’d be able to tell by looking at it. But in filet form, it’s hard to tell them apart unless you taste it. So sellers can mislabel it and sell it for a higher price. A program such as MSC is a good way to insure what they are getting.  Another big one is “diver scallops.” The amount of diver scallops that are actually caught by a diver is less than nothing and most of that stays in the fishing community. Plus, it’s seasonal. Divers aren’t going to go out in the Atlantic Ocean from late October to the beginning of April. Even “day boat scallops”—there are a very limited number of day boats.

Intentional fraud, or ignorance?

I’d say it’s 50/50 the guys who claim to be sustainable really are doing it right, and the others are just saying they are to make you feel good. A lot of big corporate restaurants will put one or two sustainable, farm-specific items on the menu to make you feel good. But the other 99 percent of the menu is unsustainable.

Your sausage company, Europa Specialty Sausage, is served in Whole Foods and Caesar’s Palace, St. Regis Monarch. Why aren’t you retired driving a sausage-shaped speedboat in the Caymans right now?

It’s not so profitable when you have six kids. My final run in the restaurant business, took me into the couple hundred thousand in tax debt.

Were you hesitant to start cooking again?

In the end, a voice spoke to me and said, ‘If you cook for charity and environmental awareness, there’s a lot to be done.’ Everything I do is for straight charity—helping farmers, ranchers and fishermen survive. At the Beard House, I personally shook the hand of every farmer, fisherman or diver whose food we served. With each plate presentation, we included a bio for every one of them. We served Skuna Bay Salmon, which is Canada’s answer to top-end Scottish salmon. The farmers live on the water with the fish 24/7. They take the top farms, and then take the top of the top fish from those farms. The fish box is taped at the farm and not opened until the chef opens it at the restaurant. If you buy Scottish salmon, you have no idea if it’s salmon.

You don’t have a restaurant, you’re not trying to “make it” as a chef. Why cook on TV?

My number one driving force is protecting what’s left of our food source. I realized I needed a bigger soap box than just that of a sausage producer and salesperson. My initial thing was auditioning for Top Chef. I tried out three times. Each time I got near the final test and they’d ask what restaurant I cooked for. And I just cook for charity. They couldn’t quite get their heads around it.

How was the Cutthroat Kitchen experience?

It was great. I left with a bitter taste for about a week. I didn’t feel I lost in the finals. I think it was very hard for the editors of that show to make it look like I deserved to lose. Are you doing ridiculous shit? Absolutely. But you have to be able to cook. It was like WWE meets Iron Chef.

And the Beard House?

Man, that was it for me. It really came full circle. After alcohol got the best of me and 10 years later to be in that house cooking next to those awesome chefs—I proved to myself I’ve still got some tools left.

You’re working on a documentary film, too?

It’s called Hail, Caesar. It’s the journey of a Caesar salad and all the ingredients that are in it—GMOs, imported produce, to-go containers, the chemicals used to clean the plates. There are a lot of sustainability issues in just one single salad. There are tons of improperly purchased items in a restaurant. And the thing is—they don’t just sell it once. They sell that salad 3,000 times a year. The amount of waste, the chemicals they produce, the jobs they pull from the local economy and give to internationals… it’s massive.

Where does sleep fall in your value system?

My nickname used to be RPM. I don’t work 40-hour weeks. I talk to chefs at 11PM, and I talk to them at 5AM.

After all the years of hard living, how are you physically?

For as busted up as my body is, I work out five or six days a week, I fight in the masters division of amateur boxing. www.olddogboxing.com. We get 1,000 people at the fights. For me, to get my body to the level it’s at is a miracle—no matter how ‘off’ my metabolism will always be. I fight now with a martial arts world champion. He kicks the shit out of me, but I can handle it.

The post FROM THE DEPTHS appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Patrick Glennon

Patrick Glennon

“Do you know who he is?”

People often whisper this when talking about Patrick Glennon. As vice president of sales for Santa Monica Seafood, Glennon is one of the foremost sustainable seafood experts in the country. That’s accomplishment enough. But a few months ago, he posted photos of his trip to cook at the James Beard House. Then he competed on Alton Brown’s Food Network show, Cutthroat Kitchen. He easily dispatched a few contestants, then barely (and debatably) lost in the finals.

How many fish salesmen cook at that level? Who exactly was Glennon? I started asking around. One local restaurant lifer explained: “Two decades ago, he was the Grant Achatz or William Bradley.”

Knowing both fishing and kitchen life, it’s not terribly surprising that two of the biggest names in San Diego seafood have this common thread: Booze, in life-withering amounts. Both Glennon and Tommy Gomes (Catalina Offshore) nearly drank themselves to death, got sober, then poured that once-misdirected energy into good, honest work until they became the faces of an industry. Glennon doesn’t live in San Diego, but as fishmonger to top chefs and hyperactive culinary activist, he’s in local kitchens every week. His name is synonymous with top-notch seafood.

“Paddy was telling me…” a chef might say of some new study on sustainable seafood. Or “I got Paddy barking in my ear about how there’s no way my diver scallops are actually diver scallops…” another will smile, knowing Glennon’s right.

Chefs trust Glennon because he was once one of the top up-and-coming chefs in the country. He trained in France under greats Alain Ducasse, Jacques Maximin and Bruno Cirino. An early pilot for the American version of Iron Chef was filmed at The Mirage in Vegas, featuring William Shatner as the host and Glennon as “the American chef” (the pilot was slated for TMC, but never aired). After a long, almost-famous run in SoCal that involved bribing cops, brandishing automatic weapons atop Mick Fleetwood’s restaurant, and some groundbreaking cooking—Glennon found himself hundreds of thousands in debt, working in a fish freezer for minimum wage, and reeking of booze.

This is how one of America’s most promising chefs lost everything, and fought his way back.

You trained under some French greats for eight years. You came back to America in the 80s as a hugely talented young chef and went to… Newport Beach?

Yeah. I was forbidden by the French guys to work for some of the top American chefs of that era, like Wolfgang Puck. They wanted me to use my training for myself and not to make those guys any bigger. The French guys considered the American chefs culinary thieves. Jean-Louis Palladin was in charge of placing me coming back from France. I stayed at the Watergate for a week and then—the biggest mistake I made—I told him I wanted to go back to Newport. I should’ve gone to Chicago or New York City. The pool of opportunity got small quick.

Where’d you cook in Southern California?

I was the chef de cuisine for Ritz-Carlton Four Seasons during the ’80s and early ’90s. I was also the chef for the Le Meridian hotel in Coronado. The Meridians were known to have the best restaurants in the country at the time. [Mister A’s longtime chef] Stéphane Voitzwinkler was there; he was part of the entourage of young cooks we brought over from France. Tim Connelly of [San Diego farm] Connelly Gardens grew everything for me. We had a tasting menu—people hadn’t seen that before. We had to explain it to them. We’d put anchovies on the plate and people would get mad because it’s bait food. We were way ahead of our time for San Diego and Top 5 Zagat in the country. [Top French chef] Michel Richard came down from L.A. with a group of 12 French chefs just to have a meal with us. In the kitchen it was all the Frenchies and me. We’d have our trucks already packed and ready to go—after dinner service we’d go across the border and surf in Mexico for the weekend. It was a different time.

Then you went Hollywood?

I got big money thrown at me to open this place in L.A. for one of the head models of Guess Jeans, called Bilboque. Stefan came with me. Iman, Madonna, Stallone, Rod Stewart—they were regulars. But even with all these celebrities and notoriety, it was very short-lived. They said my salary was $175K. But we weren’t seeing any money. After three months of not getting paid, we jacked all the equipment and sold it to pay my crew. I was fine with them not paying me, but not paying my crew? Irish carjack.

That’s where you hooked up with Jean-Francois Meteigner?

Jean Francois and I took over all the hotels owned by Severyn Ashkenazy—the Bel Age, Mondrian, Hermitage.

I heard there are celebrities in Los Angeles.

It was wild. We did Pamela and Tommy’s wedding at the Bel Age. I cooked in John Travolta’s home. Same with Guns N Roses. We cooked for New Kids on the Block, Sting, Vanilla Ice, the Stones. But then the recession hit. No one wanted to hire us because we were high-paid chefs during a recession. So I partnered with [longtime New York pastry shop owners] The Ferraras. They wanted to open restaurants in L.A. We had a small farm in Topanga where we lived and smoked pot and drank all day. We farmed at least 40 percent of the food we cooked. This is when alcohol started to catch up to me.

When that didn’t pan out, you teamed up with Mick Fleetwood?

Yeah. I partnered with Mick to open Fleetwood’s. I was chef-owner. We had a show on VH1 that was Mick jamming with everyone, like Marky Mark. Little Feat was our house band. But we ran into liquor license problems from the get-go. The grand jury thought we were mafia. They pulled our liquor license on a technicality that went back 40 years before we bought the building. We did Michael Jackson’s release party. We’d pay the fire and police department not to show up.

Sounds pretty above-board.

Pretty much all the business we were doing was illegal, since we didn’t have the license to gather or sell liquor. This was during the riots. When the riots happened, we were on the roof with semi-automatics.

From rock venue with semi-automatics you joined… Disney?

Mick and I were in “keep the lights on” mode. That’s when I left high-end cuisine and started chasing Cheesecake Factory style money. These guys came in one day and asked me to rebuild the spider Encounter restaurant at LAX with some Disney designers. That was fu**ing horrific. We rebuilt that with John Rivera Sedlar. I was still cooking on the line and in charge of everything else—working 100 hours a week and keeping myself numb with alcohol the entire time. I think that’s when I lost my culinary soul—and my soul, period. I don’t even remember those years. It was a decade of blur.

So you got out?

Yeah. I went to Vermont. My wife at the time was not mentally stable. I thought I’d find a nice place for her. I went to New England Culinary Institute, where I was chef-instructor for fine dining restaurants. I used to train and handpick the kids for Daniel and Le Cirque. I built my own seafood distribution business there called Paddy the Fishmonger—market, distributor, restaurant. Alcoholism took that down.

What lured you back?

I was on the golf course one day and the phone rang. It was Jean-François. He wanted me to take over L’Orangerie in Beverly Hills. They brought me in as a consultant with Ludo Lefebvre was in the kitchen.

What was the final straw for you as a professional chef?

I opened up Hollywood & Vine Diner with a group that was supposed to build-out concepts. The builder overshot the build-out by millions. We opened the doors with no money. I couldn’t be in another restaurant with no money. That was the end of my road with alcohol. I was blacking out. I couldn’t be on the line without alcohol.

How’d you get out?

My fish vendor said, “You’re better than this—let’s get you out of this industry.” I started working nights icing fish for minimum wage on the docks. I didn’t get sober right away, believe me. I finally got sober in 2005. I figure I was about a month from death. I thought I was done. Eventually, I worked my way up and became the fish monger to the star chefs.

You’ve become known as a “culinary activist”—an absolute bulldog about sustainable, eco-friendly seafood. Three things a consumer can do? 

First, buy US-caught fish, which is all under sustainable management. It doesn’t mean that Georges Bank is going to be recovered, but it does mean that anything from that area is in a rehabilitating, science-based recovery program.   Second,   Look up your fish on Monterrey Bay Aquarium’s site, www.seafoodwatch.org. They even have an app now. Third, look for the MSC (Marine Stewardship Council) certification. You’ll see it in most stores, from Whole Foods to Costco and Wal-Mart. It’s a really well-managed, science-based organization.

What’s the worst (most unsustainable) fish that people buy way too often?

Improperly farmed salmon. It’ll say “Atlantic salmon.” But unless the menu or the store is specific about the actual farm it came from, it’s most likely not from a sustainable farm. Chefs pay a premium for sustainably farmed fish—so they’re gonna put the name on the label or menu. They wouldn’t try to sell you a Cadillac by calling it “a car.” So “Atlantic salmon” basically means the same thing as “car.” It means nothing. If it says the farm, good chance it’s a sustainable operation.

What’s the biggest form of seafood fraud you see?

Mixing species. Sometimes a restaurant might call it grouper or sole on the menu, but it’s really swai—a Vietnamese catfish from Mekong River waters I wouldn’t drink. It’s often the seafood company who’s lying to the chefs, so it’s my job to try to educate them without “schooling” them. For instance, I’ll be bidding to sell a chef No. 1 ahi tuna and they’ll say ‘No thanks, I’m getting an insanely good price.’ I’ll have them take me to the walk-in cooler and show me the fish. It’s almost never No. 1 ahi. Or the chef thinks they’re getting Loch Duart salmon, but what they’re getting is actually Canadian salmon. If the fish was sold to them whole, they’d be able to tell by looking at it. But in filet form, it’s hard to tell them apart unless you taste it. So sellers can mislabel it and sell it for a higher price. A program such as MSC is a good way to insure what they are getting.  Another big one is “diver scallops.” The amount of diver scallops that are actually caught by a diver is less than nothing and most of that stays in the fishing community. Plus, it’s seasonal. Divers aren’t going to go out in the Atlantic Ocean from late October to the beginning of April. Even “day boat scallops”—there are a very limited number of day boats.

Intentional fraud, or ignorance?

I’d say it’s 50/50 the guys who claim to be sustainable really are doing it right, and the others are just saying they are to make you feel good. A lot of big corporate restaurants will put one or two sustainable, farm-specific items on the menu to make you feel good. But the other 99 percent of the menu is unsustainable.

Your sausage company, Europa Specialty Sausage, is served in Whole Foods and Caesar’s Palace, St. Regis Monarch. Why aren’t you retired driving a sausage-shaped speedboat in the Caymans right now?

It’s not so profitable when you have six kids. My final run in the restaurant business, took me into the couple hundred thousand in tax debt.

Were you hesitant to start cooking again?

In the end, a voice spoke to me and said, ‘If you cook for charity and environmental awareness, there’s a lot to be done.’ Everything I do is for straight charity—helping farmers, ranchers and fishermen survive. At the Beard House, I personally shook the hand of every farmer, fisherman or diver whose food we served. With each plate presentation, we included a bio for every one of them. We served Skuna Bay Salmon, which is Canada’s answer to top-end Scottish salmon. The farmers live on the water with the fish 24/7. They take the top farms, and then take the top of the top fish from those farms. The fish box is taped at the farm and not opened until the chef opens it at the restaurant. If you buy Scottish salmon, you have no idea if it’s salmon.

You don’t have a restaurant, you’re not trying to “make it” as a chef. Why cook on TV?

My number one driving force is protecting what’s left of our food source. I realized I needed a bigger soap box than just that of a sausage producer and salesperson. My initial thing was auditioning for Top Chef. I tried out three times. Each time I got near the final test and they’d ask what restaurant I cooked for. And I just cook for charity. They couldn’t quite get their heads around it.

How was the Cutthroat Kitchen experience?

It was great. I left with a bitter taste for about a week. I didn’t feel I lost in the finals. I think it was very hard for the editors of that show to make it look like I deserved to lose. Are you doing ridiculous shit? Absolutely. But you have to be able to cook. It was like WWE meets Iron Chef.

And the Beard House?

Man, that was it for me. It really came full circle. After alcohol got the best of me and 10 years later to be in that house cooking next to those awesome chefs—I proved to myself I’ve still got some tools left.

You’re working on a documentary film, too?

It’s called Hail, Caesar. It’s the journey of a Caesar salad and all the ingredients that are in it—GMOs, imported produce, to-go containers, the chemicals used to clean the plates. There are a lot of sustainability issues in just one single salad. There are tons of improperly purchased items in a restaurant. And the thing is—they don’t just sell it once. They sell that salad 3,000 times a year. The amount of waste, the chemicals they produce, the jobs they pull from the local economy and give to internationals… it’s massive.

Where does sleep fall in your value system?

My nickname used to be RPM. I don’t work 40-hour weeks. I talk to chefs at 11PM, and I talk to them at 5AM.

After all the years of hard living, how are you physically?

For as busted up as my body is, I work out five or six days a week, I fight in the masters division of amateur boxing. www.olddogboxing.com. We get 1,000 people at the fights. For me, to get my body to the level it’s at is a miracle—no matter how ‘off’ my metabolism will always be. I fight now with a martial arts world champion. He kicks the shit out of me, but I can handle it.

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The Los Angeles Art Show is massive. An estimated 60,000 people will flock to view works from more than 100 important galleries. The fair itself is divided into sections for modern and contemporary, historic and traditional, vintage posters, and fine prints. A full schedule offers an opening night party, exhibitions, tours, and lectures, but we’re secretly more excited about the chance to try some of the new dining downtown. Nearby at the L.A. Live campus, there’s Rosa Mexicano, Trader Vic’s, and The Farm of Beverly Hills (800 West Olympic Boulevard). The sexy Soleto Trattoria and Pizza Bar is also a top choice (801 South Figueroa Street). Here’s to a day trip for fine culture and cuisine! laartshow.com

Monet work

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SLS Hotel Beverly Hills pool deck

SLS Hotel Beverly Hills pool deck

A Taste of L.A.

Serious foodies will make a pilgrimage to L.A. this month for the third annual Los Angeles Food & Wine Festival (August 21–25, lafw.com). Dozens of celebrichefs like Giada, Morimoto, and Bayless, plus wineries like Leviathan, Justin, and Tablas Creek, will be at various venues around the downtown area and in Beverly Hills. For a stay worthy of such dining, rest your head at nearby SLS Hotel Beverly Hills, which itself has two world-class restaurants, the Philippe Starck-designed Bazaar and the superchic Tres by chef José Andrés. And if, after all this grazing and eating, you can stomach the thought of donning a bikini, head up to the SLS rooftop pool and take in one delicious view of the city. slshotels.com/beverlyhills

The Shoreline guest room

SLS Hotel Beverly Hills pool deck

Affordable Hawaii

Hotels along Honolulu’s Waikiki shore are going boutique and cheap

Say aloha (and by that, we mean goodbye) to Hawaii mega-resorts, as boutique hotels have been popping up all along Waikiki. The most recent arrival is Vive Hotel Waikiki, open July 15. Under Joie de Vivre ownership, there’s the new Coconut, where rooms come with kitchens, and The Shoreline (pictured left), which has hip decor and offers stays for as little as $139 per night. Waikiki: why not?

87

Number of restaurants and stores in SAN by 2014 (up from 55). Latest additions include Terminal 1’s Craft Brews on 30th Street and San Diego Bay News in the Commuter Terminal, serving coffee from Caffé Calabria. Stay tuned for Bankers Hill Bar, 100 Wines, Saffron Thai, Pannikin, Garden by Tender Greens, Stone Brewing Co., Warwick’s of La Jolla, and more.

The post San Diego Travel News appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Sirtaj Beverly Hills Hotel

RivaBella

Vespa

Ritz-Carlton Lake Tahoe

Vacation Home

Mountain Livin’… at the Ritz

Time to upgrade that log cabin. If you have an extra $1.25 to $4.5 million lying around, you could own one of 23 luxury penthouse condos recently opened as The Ritz-Carlton Residences, Lake Tahoe. The two-, three-, and four-bedroom residences come with an all-season pass, ski valet and concierge services, private entrance, and priority access to the hotel’s spa and restaurants. Three of the penthouses are custom homes designed by Jay Jeffers, in what he calls “California Mountain” style. Own 3,000 square feet at 7,000 square feet, at a ski-in, ski-out residence in a Forbes Four-Star and AAA Five-Diamond resort? Where do we sign?

Oia

Art

Travel… in Your Imagination

Following a two-month painting trip in the Mediterranean, local artist and native San Diegan Grant Pecoff will show his series of plein-air and studio paintings called Greece & Croatia: Mediterranean Summer at his Little Italy gallery. Receiving the signature Pecoff treatment were Greece’s blue-domed churches, valleys of olive trees, and views from monasteries and mountaintops. He also painted from the vantage point of Croatia’s medieval fortresses and while sailing through 400 islands. “When you open your heart to the environment and people around you, everything seems so much more vibrant and alive,” says Pecoff. Indeed. Artist’s reception is April 13; oil paintings on display through April. Pecoff Gallery, 1825 India Street, pecoff.com

golfer

Now Playing

Swingers in Vegas: See celebs swing golf clubs (last year, stars like Wayne Gretzky and Tom Welling competed) at the 12th Annual Michael Jordan Celebrity Invitational in Las Vegas, April 4–7. Shadow Creek Golf Course at ARIA Resort & Casino. mjcigolf.com

382,376

Americans traveled to Mexico during Spring Break 2012

Source: mexicotoday.org

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