No Need To Starve. It's The Year Of The Snake.

No Need To Starve. It's The Year Of The Snake.

Last night I dreamed I devoured a snake. I had slow-roasted it, like a pig on a spit, split it down the middle and scooped out its steaming flesh with my fingers.  As I lay in bed contemplating the oddity of my slithering supper, it hit me: It's the Year Of The Snake.

Ancient Chinese lore states that a snake in the house ensures your family won't starve. To guarantee you won't go hungry for Chinese cooking, let's take a trip to the largest Chinese-American community in the U.S.

Just 20 miles from L.A., the San Gabriel Valley isn’t your cliché Chinatown: tourists, tchotchkes and a towering, dragon gate.  It is China-Country--200 square miles of authentic eats.  

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East Meets West

East Meets West

Dreams of clam strips are dancing in my head.  Tonight, I head to my Connecticut, childhood home, where I will load up on fried fish, butter-sautéed scallops, and lobster rolls .  Living in L.A., land of many flavors, I have my pick of international eats, yet I lament the lack of seafood shacks of my youth.  Sure, there's the PCH standbys, Neptune's Net and Reel Inn, and Santa Monica's BP Oysterette, but head inland and the choices are slim.  That is until Son Of A Gun came to town.

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