Churched & Sated

Now that I'm moving out, I guess it's okay to discuss the residence frankly. Like share the exact address.

In case you'd like to stalk me the one afternoon I'm going to collect my belongings at some point during this month: I've been living in The Biscuit Lofts in downtown LA since last spring. A former Nabisco factory turned architectural wonder and luxury loft building. I am also lucky enough to have had a friend that wanted to split a unit. (Let's be reasonable here. Clover's not pulling solo Biscuit cash these days.)

So for those of you not familiar with the eastern section of downtown LA, the neighborhood can be summed up as one block of Chelsea and twenty blocks of Skid Row. Just how I like it. And one of the factors contributing to the Chelsea-ish qualities is a trendy bistro of a place called Church & State.

And just how hot is this joint? WELL, I will have you know, it was name dropped recently on the new Melrose Place. (You know. The guy who was Ella's boss at the PR agency before Amanda Woodward came back and fired him was trying to impress someone by saying he had "standing reservations at Church & State.") Or something like that. I wasn't paying that close attention. Okay I was.

(ASIDE: Melrose Place is only one in a long list of many shameful television programs I consume weekly. Yesterday morning Boyfriend asked me what shows he should set a season pass for from the living room and yelling them out from the kitchen was difficult even for me, and I have a say-it-loud-say-it-proud policy with my low brow television viewing. Q: Do you know how cool it sounds to yell "The Bachelor" urgently from across a house? A: As cool as being a contestant on The Bachelor.)

SO. Anycomfortablewithmyself, I have been a longtime enemy of this Church & State establishment.

Yes, I appreciate that its presence makes the otherwise no man's land that is my corner of DTLA a destination. And I like that it gives extra cache to the building. My beef with C&S stemmed entirely from the close quarters we shared. And when I mean close, I mean it's like this, y'all:




Shit gets loud.

My only understanding of Church & State was that its employees liked to listen to Kings of Leon and Journey. Loudly and often. And exclusively. While there was the audible din of a dinner crowd on a Friday night, the real headache began after the doors closed and before they opened, when it appeared the only songs its staff enjoyed hearing were "Sex on Fire" and "Don't Stop Believin'". There were times when I thought the bands were giving in-house performances and hoped for an earthquake so I could come crashing down on them. When this is occurring at 8 am after working at a bar until 2 am the night before, you easily become homicidal. Ear plugs do not cancel out the throbbing bass that will pulse through your loft floors. Goodbye rest and youth and beauty.

But I had heard the food was awesome there. And while a few nights over the past year I had gone in for a drink at the bar, that was not enough to win me over nor justify its existence. Plus I walked by it everyday. It wasn't THAT exciting. Usually I would glare at the patrons in my sweats while carrying groceries and feel completely desensitized to its awesomeness.

But this week, as my tenure at the Biscuit comes to a close, I decided it was high time Boyfriend and I had a date night there. As excited as I am to be back in Silverlake, I'm already having downtown nostalgia. I got misty as we sat at our table, and while checking my email on my iPhone, saw my wireless network pop up. Aw, Bisky. It's been so real.

And Church & State is absolutely as good as the hype. We ate like Royalty. (Like how Marie Antoinette got killed for eating this awesome. Also under this Royalty eating structure, vegetables are for the cake-eating plebes.) Eat this: the steak tartare, the foie gras served in a magical little French-y mason jar, the moules frites and the frisée salad with an (also magical!) soft poached egg and warm bacon vinaigrette.

So go go go, people. I'm totally over the time they ruined my sleep for a year.