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Peyton 🍴🥖

@peytoneats

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Food, Dating, & Los Angeles

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The worst part about having a crush is going on dates with other people and thinking “that was nice, but god, I wish I was with ***** instead.”

Dining in Los Angeles after spending three weeks in Europe feels a lot like that. Even the best meal I’ve had since being home feels so-so compared to the random pasta joints I stumbled upon in Italy.

You’re at the restaurant. You’re engaging in small talk with the person across from you. You even laugh with the waiter a little! But as soon as you get dropped off and slip out of your heels, that familiar feeling of dread waves over you. Three weeks was not nearly enough time to actually get to know a place, and yet I’m left pining after the simple flavors of Spain’s tostadas.

Perhaps the allure is in the mystery of it all. If a crush is simply a lack of information, maybe in another three weeks, three months, or three years you’d grow sick of the grenisadas. The fresh tomate you once loved could become familiar, tired, and uninspiring. Perhaps some stories are better left untold! taken in Dolomiti, Italy by @peytoneats

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3 years ago

I like dating from the Internet because it feels like I’m playing with Monopoly money: the game is long and the aren’t any real consequences, however, no one ever finishes. There’s a level of unseriousness to it. The recommendations put forward by the hinge algorithm read like every food guide of the “trendy new places” in LA.

Their best foot is (hopefully) placed forward. The restaurant is described as “bustling” (aka loud) and the guy says his height is 5’11 (aka 5’9). The viral pasta dishes always leave something to be desired, and the date is no exception. Sometimes they’re well behaved and earn a second visit! They open your door, walk on the street side of the road, and provide excellent service. It never quite works out though. Upon second look, the chef has an ego too big for his hat and the dessert tried to make too many things work.

Dating online can be brutal, but the alternative is so much worse: your friend sets you up with some guy she loves. You make a reservation at one of her favorite restaurants, only to discover that you and your bestie have contrasting tastes. She’s a health nut and you’ve been on a junk food diet. The food is a little under seasoned. The date is a little boring. The whole thing is just a liiiiittle too close to home. taken in Uovo by @peytoneats

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4 years ago

I have a tendency to go on dates with people that I don’t like. I also have a habit of going to aroma coffee and tea on a near monthly basis despite the fact that the food is flavorless. I think in both instances I’m hoping that the facade will lead to something deeper.

Each time I think to myself…perhaps it’s just missing something — a personality…a flavor…they’re one and the same.

I was catching up my friend on my dating life this weekend and I described nearly every person as “fine.” Not “fine” in the way that makes you want to crawl into their skin and live there forever, but in a way that is perfectly underwhelming. Not unlike the food at aroma.

My issue is that the aesthetic of aroma is what draws me in every time. It promises the perfect meet cute, endless conversations, and a call from your manager saying “you booked it!”

In reality, you get stuck going on a date with a guy who has a weird relationship with his mother (can someone tell me why I keep attracting this) while eating an omelette that tastes like someone with ageusia seasoned it.

After having reasonably priced farm to table meals at every restaurant in Victoria, I fear I will never be the same.

Slurred voices confessing feelings. Foraged chanterelle mushrooms melting into your mouth. Forgiving yourself for sometimes needing to learn lessons the hard way. by @peytoneats

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4 years ago

“Canada was the best thing to ever happen to you. Who are you?” -a friend

Who am I in Canada? I’m a girl who drinks on Mondays. A lady who finally likes mushrooms. A young woman who occasionally lives her life with a hint of reckless abandon.

Who I am today is not who I was 11 weeks ago, nor who I will be 15 days from now once this whirlwind is over.

Is it circumstantial? Is my willingness to throw caution to the wind a product of high stress days and a desperate need for release? Or is this my new normal?

What happens when the dust finally settles? I’ll still be 22. Maybe a bit grittier. A bit more jaded. Hopefully, well rested. I’m honestly frightened by what will happen when this “new” me gets plopped back into her old, familiar habitat.

It’s safe to say I’ll be hit on a bit less. (My ego will heal with time.) I’ll still be waking up in the middle of the night panicked about script revisions. Perhaps I’ll be slightly less uptight.

Once the anxiety slowly dissipates from my body, what’s next?

Some nights I spend my time wishing I was less self aware. In another universe I’m able to turn it off and get lost in the moment. Alas, that’s not how my brain in this dimension works.

I hope the Peyton in that cosmos is doing well. taken in Little Jumbo by @peytoneats

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4 years ago

I seemed to exclusively pick duds this past weekend in San Diego. Last week my dear friend Simone told me that I’m no longer allowed to pick the people I date. Adding an addendum to this rule, I’ve also decided that I’m no longer allowed to pick restaurants while on vacation.

Almost every single place SUCKED. It reminded me of that phase in my teens where I only talked lanky assholes over 6 feet tall. Or that time last year where I only dated people with fire sign venuses. Oh don’t worry, I’ll be sure to report back with this year’s data in January.

We got fish tacos and ceviche on from a place whose name I can’t remember. I didn’t realize fish could have that little flavor. I kept eating it, hoping that it would spontaneously become seasoned. It felt like this time I went on a second date with a guy, even though he was as boring as a plank of wood on the first date. Always the optimist, I gave him a shot and the second date was equally as boring.

The only silver lining from that night was discovering that I’m great at shuffle board. Kind of like how the ceviche we ordered wasn’t TOO bad. Sure, it wasn’t what we came for, but I’ll take the win.

Overall? I’ll continue to let Simone pick my dates and my restaurants. taken in La Jolla by @peytoneats

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4 years ago

The last time I went to The Cellar I was on a trip with my best friends and it was the beginning of one of the most magical summers I’ve ever had.

Reeling from a dramatic teenage breakup, I found warmth in the French toast. I found solace in the lavender latte. And I found peace in the June gloom that swallowed the sky while we dined.

That morning at The Cellar has remained one of my favorite restaurant experiences for years, and today, I went back.

I got the chicken sandwich, and it was pretty damn good. Now I can’t help but think…was it good because it was /actually/ good? Or was it good because I remember it fondly? Because the last time I sat in those chairs was a time in my life filled with excitement, growth and transformation?

My future was so uncertain four years ago. It still is. I loved dining at The Cellar today, but I have a sneaking suspicion that moment in time meant more to me than any meal.

And for that, The Cellar remains one of my favorite dining experiences.

Also, the coffee is amazing. (But between us, the tater tots sucked) taken in The Cellar by @peytoneats

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4 years ago

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4 years ago

A couple weeks ago I had the Worst Meal of All Time. Literally.

How can a place be so comically mediocre? It felt like I was in high school. Everyone was ogling over the hot lacrosse player with the movie star name (aka this restaurant) and I was all like “but GUYS he has such a bad personality and he’s SO impolite.”

Dress it up any way you’d like, this place sucked ass.

The French toast was literally just brioche with syrup on the side. It was a Disney channel kiss. There was nothing French about it. Zero dredging. Zero cinnamon. Zero hands in my hair. It was practically rated G.

Now the crispy rice ACTUALLY had a hair in it. Yup. Kinda ruined the whole experience. It was cooked into the rice. Ick. Hair in your mouth mid make out is understandable, but in food it’s just gross.

All Time is getting unmatched, blocked, and blacklisted. taken in All Time by @peytoneats

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4 years ago

Do you ever go in for a kiss with a guy and he goes way too hard way too fast? It’s as if one time he heard one of his friends say “girls like it rough” and adopted it as holy gospel. No nuance. No finesse. No tenderness. That’s how these noodles tasted.

How can a noodle be both flavorless and harvested from the firey depths of hell (aka spicy)? I found myself asking this question during my very first bite. It somehow lit my entire palate aflame, yet provided zero flavor or texture. The mushrooms were sliced so thinly that they were basically a white woman’s new take on noodles. Watch out, zoodles! Moodles will soon be sweeping Southern California homes come this summer.

Thankfully, I was able to return to the sweet arms of McConnell’s fine ice cream afterwards. My relationship with McConnell’s is kind of like returning to an old summer fling. Comfortingly familiar. Relatively consistent. Mostly satisfying. Always keeping me coming back for more.

(Jk. McConnell’s always satisfies) taken in Santa Barbara, California by @peytoneats

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4 years ago

White Lightning - the Ultimate Friends With Benefits. Playing the first date game in LA is tough. You go out and try a new pizza place, only to discover that they don’t ferment their dough and their cheese is kind of rubbery. Sometimes you find a hidden gem — fresh basil, fluffy crust, and a Hawaiian to write home about. The only con is…they’re on the west side. That’s practically a LDR.

Sometimes you need a slice and you need it now. You crave a pizza place that always delivers. That’s where Jon and Vinny’s White Lighting comes in. You guys have a history that spans years. That sinful slice hits the spot every. damn. time. Jon and Vinny know what you need without having to say a word. No matter how many other pizza places you try, you always always come back for that familiar flavor.

#personifythepizza
#jonandvinnys
#losangelesfoodie
#losangelesfood taken in Jon & Vinny's Restaurant by @peytoneats

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4 years ago

Picture this: you’ve driven to sunny laguna beach in rush hour traffic with a guy who is 6’2, has the deepest voice you’ve ever heard in your life, and wears transition lenses. After location scouting, you go for an early dinner at Nick’s.

He’s parking, so you cop a two top and patiently wait. You pour over the menu, unable to decide between the maple meatloaf, buttermilk chicken, or prime rib sandwich. He waltzes in after 15 minutes, computer in hand, and immediately starts responding to emails. You decide on a half and half split of the cioppino and the buttermilk chicken entree.

Just to clear the air, ALL the rumors are true. We’re not dating. I did, however, fall in love with the Cioppino. There’s something about seafood in a restaurant that’s close to the ocean that makes it automatically better. It’s like finally taking that first step and finally making out with someone after a long night of flirtatious glances and sly remarks. The tension has been built up. You knew where this is going. Yet you still hold your breath as you lean in. That’s how the Cioppino made me feel.

The buttermilk chicken was good too. Kind of disappointing after the Cioppino though. It felt like going on a first date and wishing you were spending time with the #1 person on your roster. Then you get kind of mad that you’re not in a relationship. Then you get a really good bite of the gravy and think “eh, money well spent.”

For dessert we had gelato, which Jacob paid for because I had bullied him relentlessly about how bad of a “date” he was. I got salted caramel and dulche de leche. Which are kind of similar but not exactly the same. That statement could also be used to describe the guys that I date. Onto the next! by @peytoneats

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4 years ago

Tried a new sushi place last week and it felt like a mediocre first date. You know those kind of dates when you have literally nothing to talk about? You’re pulling out all the stops. You’ve asked about their family, their job, and their childhood dog. You’ve given them your spiel about living in five states and explained why California is your favorite. You’ve probably even brought up football in a last ditch effort to have any sort of exciting conversation. (Well, maybe that’s just me). It’s 30 minutes into the date and you sound like you’re trying to break in to one of their AMEX security questions. It’s borderline creepy and your efforts are futile.

The thing about these kinds of first dates is that there’s nothing outright BAD about them. He doesn’t tell you that if he was in the “leveling up” phase of his life he wouldn’t be going out with you. (A true story that happened to my friend). He doesn’t run into his rehab friends while sitting at lunch. He doesn’t show you his new compass tattoo and attempt to explain the meaning. He’s just kind of…there.

The opposite of love is indifference and this sushi was…fine. It wasn’t love at first sight. We definitely won’t be going on a second date. This sushi was not the sexy summer fling I’ve been looking for, but my search for the perfect spicy tuna on crispy rice will continue (I’m in an open LDR with Shibuya in Calabasas) by @peytoneats

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4 years ago