There’s a scene in the 1995 post-apocalyptic film Waterworld in which “ancient” relics are being examined. A character picks up a strange figure-eight-shaped object – the Thighmaster – and proclaims it to be a medieval torturing device. It’s the first thing that pops into my mind when I spot the Pilates reformer machines during my first visit at Pilates Studio City’s Valley Village location, the Annex, on a Saturday afternoon. If it weren’t for the smiling faces that greeted me as I walked in, I may have headed back the other way. I imagine the conversations of curious future peoples: Is that…

My neighbor and I started our own community garden along the side of our apartment. It's a modest little concrete walkway with plastic-lined wooden wine boxes atop plastic shelving.  She'd noticed my husband and I planted sweet basil after we moved in, and soon afterwards she planted lettuce, cilantro, tomatoes and peppers for us all to share. If my thumbs had to be any color, however, they might be a fading shade of green. My thumb tips might be a bright grassy green — a sign of a hopeful gardener — but at the knuckle it would start disappearing into a light avocado, and by the metatarsal my…

I’m walking to NE1 Skate Shop on a Tuesday evening, and the only thing I can think of is what to say when I’m asked if I need help finding anything. Between the aroma of gourmet coffee at Republic of Pie and the scent of cheese steaks at Philadelphia Sandwiches, I become distracted and forget about coming up with a cool and convincing answer. This writer is not exactly a skater girl. I can barely rollerskate in a straight line on flat pavement, much less keep both feet planted on a board for 10 seconds.  My knowledge of tricks is only thanks to the video game Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater, and I …

I can never get the timing quite right when CicLAvia rolls through.  Saturday family gatherings, forgetfulness, companions who are reluctant to exercise, friends without bikes – I’ve cited all of these as past excuses for missing L.A.’s biggest bike-friendly event. When nearly 100,000 Angelenos rode through 10 miles of car-free streets through downtown last weekend, I was again absent as I enjoyed an all-afternoon family get-together instead. Though CicLAvia and I can never seem to catch one another, the missed opportunity also serves as a reminder that North Hollywood is a perfectly good …

The unexpected aroma of chocolate is the first thing I notice when I step into The Candy Factory.  I had imagined walls of sugary stations filled with jelly beans separated by color, gummies in a variety of animal shapes and other sweet treats. Instead, the walls are covered with hundreds of plastic molds in different designs: everything from romantic roses and rubber duckies, toys (Legos or handcuffs, depending on your sense of humor) and objects for nearly every holiday (Valentine’s Day, Easter, Hanukah). An electronic bell rings when walk through the door, and I’m happily greeted by Debi …

To an undiscerning eye, Cahuenga General Store looks as if it’s been serving food and dry goods to North Hollywood’s residents since the turn of the 19th century. Look up, and you’ll see collections of antique bistro chairs, blue enamel pots and mason jars hung on the ceiling. On the shelves, there are old-fashioned soaps, candles and paper ephemera. The floor is worn and creaky, as if it’s lived through generations of customers who traveled by horse & carriage, then by horseless carriage to get their goods. I've wanted to visit ever since I spotted the curiously-decorated café after checking…

Pizza is not supposed to be healthy. I’m at Joe Peep’s talking to Marvin, the young man behind the counter, about their famously-unapologetic, unhealthy pizzas. “Are they really 5,969 calories like it says on the menu?” I ask him.  I imagine the chefs meticulously weighing every topping and measuring every square inch of dough on their prototype pizza to get the most precise calorie calculation. Well, he says, it’s actually just a rough estimate of their House Combo pizza, which is topped with pepperoni, sausage, Canadian bacon, meatballs and veggies.  “Pizza’s not supposed to be healthy!”, …

I’ll be up front about my experience with Russian cuisine and culture. I know “nul” about its food and ways of life, but I know enough not to assume any Eastern European accent is a Russian one when it may, in fact, be Ukrainian. I’d made that mistake when I first met Alla of Lucky You Resale Boutique, and she kindly (and politely) corrected me. Since then, I’d been curious about the number of Russian and Ukrainian markets in Valley Village. I’d seen the colorful trucks advertising fresh-baked European bread parked outside Tashkent, and since carbs are my weakness, I knew a visit was a must. …

Idrea Lippman had been out of a job and looking for work when her luck stepped in at the right moment. The 58-year-old had worked at Lucky You Resale Boutique in Valley Village for three months a while back, and when the previous owner, Dina Kimmel, offered to sell the store to Lippman, she jumped on the opportunity. When a vehicle crashed last November into Lucky You Too for Kids, the boutique’s second location on the same block specializing in children’s clothing, the damage to the structure and inventory made it difficult for the previous owner to keep the business afloat, Lippman told …

The first thing I notice about the Brick Yard Pub besides its revamped modern exterior is the woody, sawdust scent when I step in. There’s something fresh and inviting about the bar’s smell, and when I see the spacious bar’s interior for the first time I’m struck by its high, vaulted ceilings, exposed brick walls and the hanging Edison lights. The Brick Yard Pub had just opened a few days prior, and at 10 o’clock on a Wednesday night my husband and I are two of six patrons in the bar at 10 p.m.  When we glance at the two giant overhead chalkboards that serve as the pub’s beer menus, the …

"Alright, we have a winner!" It's the first thing we hear before we even open the door at Bar One in North Hollywood. For a Tuesday night, we're not expecting a huge crowd, but we're pleasantly surprised when we walk in shortly after 9:45 p.m. It's Loteria night — the Mexican version of the game Bingo, where numbers are replaced by pictures — and the bar's packed with twentysomethings with drinks in hand and colorful game cards before them. We admire the red velvet wallpaper and Prohibition-esque wall lamps. My husband and I remind ourselves that though we're still in our '20s, yet we can't …

There’s been speculation as to whether grilled cheese has replaced the cupcake food fad, or if pie is the new grilled cheese. Regardless of which camp you're in, a good cupcake is still a good cupcake, a great pie is still a great pie, and a delicious grilled cheese is, well, you get the idea. Republic of Pie brought tasty tarts to NoHo, and now a new(ish) place in Valley Village is serving up both grilled cheese and cupcakes in one place. Occupying the former Famous Cupcakes space, The Grilled Cheese and Cupcake Co. is sandwiched between Grandma’s Deli and Danielle’s Pizza in a strip mall at…

It’s 8 a.m. on a Wednesday morning and I’m standing outside of Republic of Pie admiring the big frosted-white logos on their front windows. I am by no means a marketing expert, but it’s a fresh, clean example of great graphics and branding: modern fonts on a solid circle shaped like a pie. I walk in and immediately feel like I’ve been transported back to San Francisco or to L.A.'s own Silverlake (minus the hipstery pretentiousness). The high ceilings, exposed concrete and reclaimed wood paneling remind me of the quirky cafétaurants up north. In the back, there’s a wide-open lounge area of …

The last time she saw him was the morning of Wednesday, Dec. 28. He was leaning against the wall in the parking lot of their apartment building when she bid him farewell before heading out for a tune-up. By the next day, he was gone. "She" is my champagne-colored Nuovo Sport bicycle. "He" is (or was) my husband's orange Trek road bike.  They'd been locked together since we moved to Valley Village in late October, and they seemed to be doing just fine hanging out in my parking space in the small, covered lot behind our apartment. I'd dropped my bike off at a local shop for a tune-up, leaving …

My household’s track record for recycling its Christmas trees has been less than stellar. “Irresponsible” is probably a better word for how we bid our past seasonal indoor greenery goodbye. I’m not giving excuses, but apartment dwellers often don’t have the convenience of those forest-green trash bins offered to homeowners. Apartment living has its perks — there’s no need to pick up the tab for plumbing expenses, the gardening is someone else’s responsibility and residents don’t need to bother with property taxes or insurance. But there’s one thing that makes me uncomfortable about rental …

The last movie I saw in theatres was Drive three months ago at the Los Feliz 3, a roughly 20-minute trip from my front door to finding street parking on a good day. Before that, I can’t remember the last time I went to the movies.   Sure, there’s Burbank’s AMC theatres, but big blockbusters, obnoxious mallrats and a packed Saturday night crowd equate to a stressful situation for me. And at least one obligatory back-row commentator never fails to show up at every opening night, giving the audience a play-by-play analysis of the movie. Then there’s the task of getting out of the apartment. What…

Like reality television, “fancy” and “dive bar” are two words that don’t belong together.  I always envision dive bars as seedy places that are half-a-violation away from getting their liquor license revoked, and local patrons with sketchy pasts mingle suspiciously alongside the resident cockroaches. But on a windy Wednesday night, a friend and I find ourselves at The Fifth, a fancy dive bar tucked away in the corner of a strip mall off Whitsett and Riverside. The bar’s name is written in swanky white script on a black oval sign trimmed with bright globe lights, but it easily could have been …

Upon first sight, J.E.T. Studio’s wide-open doors and bright white lights are inviting. But when I stepped into the gallery last Saturday for the opening of Art Noir, the seemingly happy exterior scene gave little warning of the exhibition’s delightfully dark subject matter.   Norwegian artist Torgheir “Thor” Ensud’s works are the first to greet you at the door. His sinister scenes conjur up images of the dark arts, meetings of secret societies and quick glances into nightmares. Passing through the hallway, Spike Dolomite’s morbidly humorous comics briefly brighten up the mood – cartoons like…

A day may be called "Cyber Monday" by businesses wanting your hard-earned bucks, but there's only so much one can take of online holiday gift window shopping. The plus side of mouse-clicking your way from store to store is that you don't have to compete with dozens of other little white arrows in the virtual aisles; the downside is you'll have to patiently wait for your package to arrive in the mail — only to find out that the navy blue sweater you got for your beau is actually more eggplant purple. Perhaps I let the enthusiastic holiday consumerism get to my head on my way home when I …

It’s true. I’m a sun-loving Southern Californian. I need to be in a particular mood for rainy days, and I prefer spending my weekends the way typical Angelenos seem to do in the movies — out and about, sporting sunglasses while walking along palm tree-lined sidewalks. Autumn is one of those seasons that begs to be appreciated in Los Angeles. Once in a while, I remind myself that those crunchy, stomp-worthy yellow and brown leaves on the sidewalks won’t be around forever (well, not at least until next year). I try to savor the cold, windy evenings that allow me to finally break out the mittens…