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When Ba Restaurant opened on York Boulevard almost a year ago, it gave a decided yank to Highland Park’s gentrification tightrope. Part of the new wave of restaurants and shops on the neighborhood’s trendiest street, the French restaurant came on the scene with a teeny menu of 20-something dollar entrees and without the populist bent of fellow newcomer Maximiliano.
Despite some detractors who view the relatively fancy restaurant as a foreshadowing to a Silver Lake-like future, Ba seems to have found an audience. And now, they’re even serving weekend brunch, which is a good option if you, like me, have been weary of the nighttime price points.
I’ve returned from my trip to France, and I’ll be back to writing about LA very soon, but in the meantime, I thought you might like to see some delectable sights from the Flower Market of Cours Saleya in the Vieille Ville (a.k.a. Old Town Nice). There were plenty of beautiful flowers, but I was more interested in the food, of course. I was really blown away by the quality and variety offered in this (almost daily) market–from a robust selection of produce to vibrantly colored salts (pictured above) and confections that were seriously a site to behold.
It’s no secret that France is a food lover’s dream come true, and this market really blew me away!
Tune in for more tomorrow!
I’ll be in France very soon, and it’s honestly all I can think about. This will be my first time in Paris, or “the city of deliciousness” as I’ve come to call it. I can’t wait to buy crepes off the street, drink my weight in wine and slather a giant slab of butter on a fresh baguette…every morning (the baguette part is the only thing I’ll do every morning).
I’m also looking forward to shopping the legendary French markets, where I’ll buy the fixings to cook a few classic dishes—you know, a little coq au vin or duck l’orange, and maybe a gratin or two. I’ll even be armed with a few carefully chosen French cookbooks to support this coming culinary prowess.
If there’s one thing to be proud of as an Angeleno, it’s our burger heritage. Let the New Yorkers and Chicagoans ridicule our pizza. We can take it because neither can touch the prevalence of good burgers in LA. Not even close. You can get a fine burger fix in almost any pocket of our fair city. Heck, maybe the whole county—even Norwalk, the none-too-culinary suburb where I grew up, has at least three decent charbroil places that I can think of.
We’re blessed with burgers.