 Connie & Ted's
When I overheard Little Alfonso and Joey Queefs whispering about "sleeping with the fishes," I thought for sure I was about to be whacked! Did they know I'd been skimming off the top of the weekly Girl Scout shakedown money? That I'd been puttin' it to the boss's little Girl Scout niece? That I was the one who put a hit out on that Armenian prick father of the Girl Scout in South Pasadena? Saying all that together, I can admit that maybe my focus has been a little too heavily skewed toward Girl Scouts in general. But I can change! I ain't a bad guy, I just made some bad choices! Aw shit, fellas, don't do it, don't do it, I wanna live!!
Turns out, they didn't say "sleeping with the fishes," they said "sleek décor and excellent dishes" in reference to Connie & Ted's, the upscale fish place in West Hollywood. Whew! I gotta get my earwax checked! I don't eat a lot of fish, but Connie & Ted's is a place I look forward to time and time again. Perhaps it's basically a super-fancy Red Lobster, but even so, it's a delightful, spacious setting with an energetic, not overly loud buzz and a menu full of high-quality, super-fresh, and unpretentious seafood. Perfect for schlubs like me who can speak sushi just fine, but ultimately far prefer a place where you can just relax and enjoy a nice meal.
The selection here covers all the classics with ample sophistication but without "evolving" everything to the nth degree. For example, the undeservingly unheralded Rhode Island Clam Chowder, which has a clear broth instead of the creamy New England or tomato-based Manhattan renditions, putting the actual flavor of the clams front and center. Delicious. I always start with that, and sometimes a few Kumamoto oysters, which as you probably know, are a great aphrodisiac—I especially recommend them for enhanced self-pleasure.
On this visit, I got a Steamer Pot, Little Alfonso got the Fish and Chips, and Joey Queefs had to go wait in the car after trying to catch a live lobster with his hands in the tank. Always trying to prove he's "man enough," that Joey Queefs. With a bottle of Corsa Pinot Grigio and a nice tip, the bill came to something like $130, which I happily covered to express my relief over the earlier misunderstanding. Ironically enough, we had to whack Joey Queefs later that night, not because of the lobster thing, but because he was an informant.
Review by Higgldy-Piggldy, December 2014 |
