i HEART downtown

my newest hood: downtown. although the sum of my la life is a mere six months, i have spent it in many corners of the city. first it was the northern world of "the valley" in studio city. then i took a few months to explore the consciously trendy hipster hotspot of silver lake. this past week, in the middle of getting the boot from my swell silverlake pad and overtaking a two-month lease for friend hatnim's tiny studio in koreatown, i bunked with a fellow figh gnarts member on a quiet but urban stretch of street in la's mystifying downtown.

naomi and i took a "vacation in our own city," trying our darndest to become aquinted with the hidden little gems of the oft-overlooked portion of the city just east of the 110. here are my pics for a good time downtown:

a latte from the bishop, where owner susie (also a native coloradoan!) will let you have a bite of her amazing chicken salad. just be careful of the locale late at night, because into the upstairs lofts is where we spotted paris fluttering during an evening visit to her boyfriend.

for a more legitimate paris experience, try a flaky croissant at cafe angelique, nestled into a trianglar corner of traffic where spring and main meet.

for lunch, spend the afternon with a glass of wine and panini at the fashion district's tiara cafe, an organic gem.

lounge for at least an hour by the edge of the standard hotel's rooftop pool. just be certain to jet before the flurry of activity by the well-heeled picks up when the sun goes down. unless you're into that scene.


i propose, instead, a visit to the best little dive bar downtown: hank's. there's never beer on tap (they're still waiting for the keg to come in apparently), so a good gimlet or grolsch will do. be careful not to touch the mannequin or try dimming the harsh lights in the back room. although a great gal, deb is territorial about her bar.

for a snack, grab a delicious double-dipped french sandwich from the century-old establishment philippe's the original. still original, still delicious, still coffee for 9 cents.

for a less authentic gritty crowd, throw your cash down at the beautiful golden gopher. perhaps a little too trendy for it's own good, at least one can buy a pack of smokes (not for my delicate lungs, of course) at the tiny little liquor market in the corner or pop in a few quarters at the surprisingly well-curated jukebox.

and if the tunes you choose keep you partying well into the night, head to one of los angeles's very few afterhours venues, the deliciously illicit speakeasy. illicit, because there is no liquor license. delicious, because the no-smoking law is flouted in favor of a more aesthetically european experience: smoky, dimly lit, and sometimes even a little three-piece jazz number. only on thursdays. location undisclosed.