Fake food in L.A.

Rodney Dangerfield: Bring this back to the chef and tell him this is low grade dog food. It's still got marks from where the jockey was hitting it.
Chef: (grabbing knife) Dogfood! I give him dogfood!!
--Caddyshack

I don't know if I have mentioned it before but I lived in the foreign land of surfers and actors for a while. The other day I started reminscing of my fond eating experiences and was reminded about the trials and tribulations that involved trying to find a good place to eat in L.A. It's similar to Chuch Norris trying to find a movie script without a fight scene.
A very close friend of mine decided to make a restaurant guide, for friends only, that was called the Birdseed. I took to staking my claim at his different suggestions like a pirate searching for gold. Since everyone knows that I am from New Orleans I have the distinct pleasure of trying every restaurant that has creole or cajun food listed among the items on the menu. I had to quantify whether the food was authentic or not. That's a big deal in L.A. where everything revolves around fake passing for real.

The first place I tried was called Aunt Kizzy's Back Porch. First off soul food is not cajun food or creole food. I like soul food almost as much as I like my New Orleans food, but it's not the same. When we pulled up to the restaurant, I suddenly had the distinct feeling as if we were being watched. As we entered the restaurant, the noise stopped, everyone stopped eating, even the waiters stopped their filling of the drinks to see in all the glory of the world what just walked in the door. 3 of the whitest college boys this side of Wyatts has ever seen.
"Wait'll Otis see's us. He loves us. Hey, my man Otis!" - -Animal House

We waited an hour in this restaurant that is predominantly accustomed to having one ethinicity eating at this establishment. Put it to you this way, when we sat down they had pictures on the wall of Harry Belfonte, Nat King Cole, Sammy Davis Jr., Bill Cosby, and even Muhammed Ali all smiling at me. it felt as if every moment was being counted until we left and the place could return back to normalcy. I can't say that I was uncomfortable because growing up in the deep south I have been to places to eat where I was the only person of my race sitting at a table. But, as I looked into the fearful eyes of my fellow honky friends, they both showed signs that anytime was a good time to leave. I enjoyed the moment and took my time eating. The best thing we had to eat that night was the cornbread. I think I ate about a loaf of cornbread because my entree was horrendous. The food wasn't anything to brag about, my friend got sick from the pecan pie. Nothing racial, just not used to sweet foods. I on the other hand, relished the fact that their is no substitute for the food back home regardless of the name of the restaurant.

The second place I tried was a place called the Rajun' Cajun down in Hermosa Beach. It's not bad, they do have some dishes that are average but not authentic. The experience is nothing compared to Aunt Kizzie's, still decided give up trying to find anything close to creole or cajun food. There isn't. That's why if you want creole food come down to New Orleans; don't try to find it at some shiek Hollywood Wolfgang Puck restaurant. As for food advice in L.A., stick to what the locals cook best, Mexican. I love the Mexican food in L.A. If you ever get a chance hit up El Chollo restaurant, they make the best Margaritas in town. But then again, I'm not one to judge what's authentic.