BLD 2010-02-14

BLD is not cheap. Nor does it blow a menu-sized hole through your taste buds. But it is so consistently good in a land of late-rising mediocrity that it deserves the highest marks by LA measures.

In a city that loves its sleep, finding a breakfast spot that opens before 9 ain’t so easy. But with BLD, (breakfast, lunch, dinner) you get as early a breakfast as you’re willing short of IHOP and hotel cafeterias. Considering that you’re blood-alcohol is probably still illegal, you shouldn’t make it too early.

One of the menu items I can’t seem to do without is the Cuban sandwich. They pile on the pulled pork onto a roll of bread that can more than stand up to all of it. Their fries are thin and crispy but will occasionally throw in a wet and soggy one that we all say we don’t like but secretly love to be surprised with. The sweet pickle I can do without. I prefer salty. But that’s me. I want to try other things but each time I have, I regret not going Cuban. There’s something in that sandwich that rings addictive. I hope it isn’t MSG.

The Huevos Rancheros are amazing. Even in a city where most people working kitchen are from Mexico, BLD excels with its take beyond the scope of others. They are also unafraid to charge for the privilege a cool $13. At that price one may balk but shouldn’t. Nor should one pass by the Cuban’s $18, the most expensive on the menu. Because nothing I have ever had that called itself a Cuban quite compares. I’m not even sure that this is a real Cuban since most sandwiches bearing the description have had variations of deli-meat. This was slowly-cooked pulled pork. Spicy. Amazing.

We caught LA on perhaps its loveliest weekend in a while. We sat outside and wanted to keep our sobriety defeated as thoroughly as the night before. But alas, BLD does not have a liquor license for its great outdoors! A let-down of buzz-killing proportions. The lovely waitress apologized that we were not told up-front and offered to promptly re-seat us on the legal side of drunk. No way. That afternoon, we were heading back to gross Chicago where it would be another 4 months before we could sit outside and not get frostbite. Plenty of time to drink indoors. We kept our spot and drank water. Sober had to come sometime. We sat in sunshine like Senators at fundraising bidding our fleeting intoxication fairy-well with a pound of pork.