Chopsticks are My Vice: a Trip to Little Tokyo
I’ve been on the hunt for beautiful origami paper recently, not that I know how to make anything other than fortune-tellers (AKA Cootie-Catchers): it’s just pretty and I wanted it. Although I do have a few projects in mind for it — stay tuned.
I’ve been wanting to go to Little Tokyo downtown for a couple of weeks, and since I didn’t have to be at work until 1 yesterday, and it’s 10 minutes away from my office, the stars aligned and I spent my morning wandering around the shops and restaurants in the Village Plaza. There are obviously quite a few cheap trinkets — polyester “kimonos”, samurai swords, Hello Kitty everything — but there are a lot of interesting and beautiful things as well. So many kitchen gadgets and tea paraphernalia that I irrationally coveted (“I MUST have this slightly flattened wooden rice ladle”).
Maybe I bought a few more sets of chopsticks, even though I already have a drawer full of them. Maybe don’t give me that judgey look.
Gorgeous, no? Even the packaging is pretty. Aesthetics are important. There was some really beautiful paper, thick, ornate, with traditional patterns and gold; I wanted all of it, but I had to budget somewhat — $20 for four sheets of paper is a little out of my reach right now. Or it will be until I take up that gold-digging career path I’ve been considering.
The food smelled AMAZING, I am definitely going back for lunch in the near future. I found a ramen place off the beaten track with a large crowd of locals around it, always a good sign, that tempted me to call in late “because of traffic” (JK, I wouldn’t do that) (Someone please give me a job). I will investigate and report back.
Tip: If you find yourself in Little Tokyo, there’s a parking lot on 2nd, just before Central, that has $5 flat-rate parking all day (it’s $4 after 4pm), which is grand, especially since most of the other lots around there are $2 for every 15 minutes. Gotta love LA.
I may or may not have gotten in an argument with some jackass conversing with his cab driver who was blocking the driveway as I left, but I’m not holding it against the parking lot people — he was just a fuckhead whose pants were too tight.