Konnichi Wa!

Konnichi wa! Last weekend, I turned Japanese. One evening I had dinner at the highly revered sushi spot Nishimura in West Hollywood, the next night I rocked out to The Boredoms at the Henry Fonda Theatre. Nishimura is such a find that there is no sign posted outside of the austere gates. I sat at the bar with my two dinnermates, savvy travelers with discriminating taste who share my philosophy that there is not enough time in this lifetime to waste on bad food. For an appetizer, instead of edamame, which has become as common as the shoelace, we were offered roasted ginko nuts with coarse salt. During most of the evening, I stared at the long sushi knife resting in front of me. I was well-behaved throughout the meal.

Fists of fury!

I try to see The Boredoms every time I get a chance. I remember vividly the first time I saw them. The year was 1993; I was standing in the middle of an empty school gymnasium in Kyoto. The tickets cost me then 1500 yen, or about $15. It was one of the cheapest concerts I ever went to in Japan. But the recent show in Los Angeles only cost me a meal of Vietnamese chicken curry. And I got a backstage pass. Miguelito and I split from our posse to check out the performance next to the stage behind the security curtain. We were in awe of the three drummers and Yamatsuka Eye, who beat drumsticks against a hydra comprising seven guitar heads attached to one body.

This is Eye working his keyboard.

Eye also danced like a banshee. Caught in some sort of trance, he repeatedly leaped over the drum kits to spin in the center. But one time he didn't jump high enough and twisted his right ankle. As the Japanese like to say, he followed the motto to "ganbaru," or endure. Though he limped for the remainder of the evening, his energy never faded.

Eye kept the hydra under control.

For the encore, Eye traded places with one of the drummers.

The hydra can also be played from behind, as demonstrated by the third drummer, who looked like a big nerd if you didn't know that he could rock out with The Boredoms.

Foie Gras at Ford's Filling Station

Fearing a Vietnamese superstition that forbade me from eating duck during the first month of the Western and Eastern new years, I waited until March 7 before I could savor a morsel of foie gras. I broke the fast at dinner with Miguelito at Ford's Filling Station.

The namesake chef of the Culver City eatery is Ben Ford, Indiana Jones' son, who, in a nod to his father's manly movies, installed wide skylights and big wooden beams befitting the hearty American bistro.

The warm baguette was smeared with crushed garlic and olive oil.

Miguelito had a wheat beer branded Hoegaarden while I had an extremely girlie pink lemonade cocktail spiked with vodka.

Miguelito and I decided to dine in Culver City because the runway shows for L.A. Fashion Week were being held nearby. I promised Miguelito that I would take him to his first runway show, a presentation for a punkish men's line called Elmer Ave. We were so hungry that we wistfully gazed at the food waiting to be delivered from the kitchen

This foie gras was worth waiting two months for. Seared to perfection, it was carefully balanced on fluffy French toast guarded by a trio of blood oranges.

The Bibb lettuce served as a refreshingly light bed for the crushed hard-boiled eggs and bacon.

Miguelito and I shared the fish and chips. The turbot was dipped in a beer batter. In addition to the French fries, or chips, we were pleasantly surprised by the addition of onion rings, fried asparagus and sweetly pickled carrots to the basket. Afterward, Miguelito and I watched a procession of tricked-out blazers to the ear-shattering tunes by a two-man band called The Devil's Orchestra. There was a reason why the show organizers placed earplugs on all the attendees' chairs.

For the Record

Miguelito pointed out that I failed to report that I went to the Grizzly Bear concert, not to mention the Spaceland all-day love jam, with him. I suppose he worried that people would get the wrong message that I went toute seule or -- heaven forbid! -- with another boy. Nah, Miguelito was by my side the entire time.

Yummy Blogs

I like blogs that make me laugh, make me hungry or make me go, "A-ha!" One of my favorite new online discoveries is Honeyee, a Japanese design magazine that has a smattering of English but not too much. (Sorry, non-Japanophiles!) Honeyee hosts a plethora of guest bloggers, including Sarah Leferl. Fashion fans recognize Sarah as the buyer for Colette, the edgy emporium in Paris that is a must-stop for all aesthetes. So full of ideas, Sarah also writes another blog for Arkitip. When I'm ready for a giggle, I check out Elizabeth Spiridakis' section on T Magazine's blog. It's very very! After my tummy calms down from all the guffawing, I whet my appetite with a glance at Just One Plate. One of the best beet salads I've ever had is on there. Bon appetit!

Band Blow-Out

In the last two days, I saw half a dozen bands and one orchestra. The musical marathon kicked off on Saturday night with Grizzly Bear's sold-out show at Walt Disney Hall. Following the L.A. Philharmonic's stirring 45-minute performance, which included Stravinsky's crowd-pleasing "Firebird," the Brooklyn, N.Y.-based quartet entertained the crowd for almost two hours with their Sigur Ros-meets-Wilco act. The only drawback to seeing a classical concert with hipsters is that they don't know the etiquette for arriving at their seats late. You're supposed to wait until the piece is done, even if it's 10 minutes long. They also hollered their approval for one of Stravinsky's crescendos. My past as an uptight first-chair flutist is coming out. The other bands I saw played at Spaceland's 13th anniversary party on Sunday. It was billed as a 12-hour jam, but I made it in the middle after I returned from a reporting field trip in Manhattan Beach, Calif. Though I missed The Movies, which is one of Miguelito's favorite local bands, I stayed for Radar Bros., Earlimart (I met their bassist/keyboard player three years ago when the up-and-coming band played a surf conference I attended in Cabo), The Little Ones (fronted by two little Filipino dudes), Whiskey Biscuit (Miguelito said his anthem is "I Like Sleeping All Day Long") and 400 Blows (Miguelito's friends have done their tours of duty in various positions). Radar Bros. were a little too slow and fuzzy for me, whereas Earlimart provided good indie background music. The Little Ones were fun to watch; the lead Pinoy wore tight jeans with suede Wallabees and a yellow and green tunic covering his bootie. Whiskey Biscuit worked the novelty card with their Southern rocker flair. My eardrums are still recovering from 400 Blows' blues metal ragers.