Have you ever...
woken up with a pounding head, in full (smeared) make up, drool on your pillow and a vague recollection of a bottomless champagne glass and toasting among men with Italian accents? Me neither. (Ahem...)
A former woman of ill-repute, I am now a respectable married lady - which, of course, means that this morning's headache was a total and utter mystery. It certainly had nothing to do with Santa Monica hot-spots Makai, Tengu and Penthouse. My girlfriends were definitely not accomplices, and there is absolutely no connection what-so-ever between my headache and Fancisco, Vincezo, Antonio or those other guys...
It started off as an early appetizers-and-cocktail evening. Umoja and I met Jackie and Melanie at Makai, where they cheered on UCLA. We arrived as the Bruins lost, and decided to drown our sorrows in sushi and cocktails, down the block. If theyhad won, we would have done the exact same thing but labeled it "celebrating their win." Either way, we were going to Tengu, which I first visited shortly after its opening with fashion blogger, DC Celine during her LA visit. The food is AMAZING, the scene is ON and the cocktails are tasty lil' suckers. Last night, my first one featured fresh ginger... delish. My second drink was a bit too sweet but I didn't exactly send it back...
We were going to end it there - plus Tengu can deplete the budget very quickly - but Umoja hadn't seen Penthouse, down the road, so we decided we'd do a quick lap . If you haven't been to Penthouse yet, its high time you high-tail it over. Melanie and I remember it when, a decade ago, it was a cheap margarita and free taco Mexican joint. The perfect after-beach party spot, it was frequented by surfers, volleyball players, students and the general public low on cash. The outdoor glass elevator provided a great view of the ocean, and city lights.
Today, when the elevator hits the 17th floor of the Huntley Hotel, the doors open to wall-to-wall people, packed into a lavish white-on-white setting. Breezy curtains section off large private booths, the cocktail waitresses sport the perfect "little black dress" and the crowd is there to see-and-be-seen. We jostled our way around the bar, taking in the change in atmosphere, and Jackie struck up a conversation with a familiar face. Next thing we knew, we joined the Italians' table and the J Champagne (Californian, woman-owned vineyard) was flowing...
Needless to say, this morning, as the sunlight burned holes clear through to the back of my skull, I knew what I needed. (All this time as a cocktail chick has taught me a few tricks...) My understanding and non-judgmental husband fetched me a tall glass of water and some aspirin, and we headed down Sepulveda for the all-time #1 hang over cure at Pho 999.Pho has all the right ingredients for a hang-over remedy: broth (ie: water), protein, veggies and lively spices. After a big steaming bowl (loaded with spicy Sirachi), a pineapple boba drink and lots more water, all was right with the world. And, the headache born amidst giggly bubbles in Santa Monica, died a peaceful, timely death in Sherman Oaks...
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