The restaurant was busy Lisa and her husband, Brian, were amazed that the wait for a table was only 30 minutes, as it can be twice that. She had stealthily worked me over with an effective “undersell.” Her understated and succinct description made it clear that this was a place worth visiting.Īfter talking about it for over a month, we made our way to Salsa and Beer on a Saturday night.
The latter point is particularly noteworthy, especially when discussing Mexican fare, which is often light on vegetation however, I was more convinced by her delivery than her words.
Lisa told me this bustling eatery is packed every night of the week they make everything from scratch, and their dishes are so fresh, and full of discernible vegetables. Usually, she is vibrant and dramatic, but when she spoke of Salsa and Beer, she became subdued. She gave it a glowing review, but not in her typical way. In addition to reliving old gossip from our heyday, many of our conversations revolve around food upon our first (re-)meeting, Lisa mentioned a local Mexican restaurant called Salsa and Beer. We share an anxious mindset and a lot of history, yet we are very different it’s the kind of friendship that I can learn a lot from. Lisa is approachable, animated, uninhibited, and thinks and talks quickly. I am a contrary, elitist snob (thought not without my charms), and I tend to move and think slowly, deliberately.
Through myriad conversations, I have deduced that we were essentially the same in third grade as we are now. We ended up at different middle schools, and lost touch, but Los Angeles has brought us back together. We lived down the street from each other, attended the same school, and even carpooled to Hebrew school. I have recently had the hilarious pleasure of reconnecting with a friend from elementary school. Psycho Eats LA: Salsa and Beer (Van Nuys) by Psycho Cooker