Terroni

Knowing I might be working late, I hadn't made any solid plans for dinner with the parents. I suggested Malo or Terroni, and said I was about equidistant from both, which, now that I think about it, doesn't seem entirely true. I think Malo's probably closer. But I said goodbye to my boss, packed up, and screamed down Beverly. They'd already arrived, and said the wait was about half an hour, so I could take my time parking. Found a spot on Spaulding, and walked over to join them. Our estimated wait-time was accurate, but the hostess was attractive. We sat at table on the end of a row. Dad had a bench, Mum a wooden chair, and I a plastic Eames chair.

Our server was Bobby, who looked a little like Jason Schwartzman, without the mole. Similar stature and hair, though. Wondered if he's his stand-in. We started off with a plate of assorted meats - I had planned to put the prosciutto on my pizza, but I was so hungry by that point that I just ate it immediately. Pierre had an eggplant dish, I believe, and Mum had something zucchini-related. They split a pizza, and I had my own. Sadly, I skimmed the menu, and ordered the Margherita pizza instead of the Marinara, and ended up asking to trade the one for the other. Bobby accommodated my request graciously, but I was still waiting for a while before the new pizza was ready. When it did arrive, I dug right in, and burned my mouth a little, but it was worth it.

We skipped dessert in favour of some strawberry cupcakes I'd picked up from Sprinkles earlier that morning. Dad noted the chandeliers over the kitchen, and I pointed out that the shelves of wine on the walls were probably less than earthquake-friendly, but the consensus was that it was a pretty well-designed space. A little noisy - but that's L.A. dining for you. All glistening hard surfaces, with nothing to absorb the sound. At least the food spoke for itself.