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PJM Lifestyle

Bridget Johnson


July 3, 2012 - 2:10 pm
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I got into L.A. a few days before Bryan did last week, and I confess that In-N-Out wasn’t the first place I headed. Since I flew into Long Beach, I swung by my old ‘hood and a fabulous dive called Casa Sanchez for some real, honest-to-God, why-doesn’t-this-exist-out-East Mexican food. What a relief to hear the person in line before me order cabeza tacos. What a delight to sip the first Orange Bang I’d had in four years. And how delish my chorizo con papas taco (a whole $1.20) and asada quesadilla were.

So I was a bit full heading into dinner, now soaking up some ocean breeze near my hotel at LAX. PJM’s Aaron Hanscom and I headed over to the In-N-Out to continue my journey through the myriad tastes of L.A. remembered but not duplicated anywhere across my new East Coast stomping ground. I didn’t even attempt the neapolitan shake — one of the In-N-Out code words (and yes, I did share some with Bryan, including the 4×4, before he and the Daves went) for the three flavors together — and didn’t finish my Double-Double animal style with animal-style fries (cheese, grilled onions, thousand island — like the burger). But as Patrick Poole noted in his pithy response to Bryan’s review, need one say more than “animal-style”?

Note the broken french fry hanging off the edge. The puppacita was sitting on the bench there, with the lovely view of planes landing at the Westchester/LAX location. Before I knew it, she had the fry sticking out of her mouth and tried to spirit it away. She’s never tried to steal a Five Guys fry, though that’s likely because I order the cajun ones just to get some flavor.

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