When Wes and I were first looking for a house, we started in Highland Park. We liked the area, and figured we couldn’t afford Eagle Rock (and knew we couldn’t afford Silver Lake). We’d heard about a cool place there that stocked a lot of different kinds of sodas and soft drinks, so we made a point to stop there while looking around for open house signs.

We entered Galco’s for the first time. Our jaws dropped, and grabbed a shopping cart. Before us was an array of nearly 500 different kinds of small-batch sodas, an equal number of beers from all over the world, two long cases full of hard-to-find, old-school and regional candy bars (from Mallo Cups to my beloved Zagnut) and a deli counter making great football-sized sandwiches. Oh my.

When we wheeled our cart up to the counter, the girl at the register gave us an amused but friendly look and said, “Hm. First time here, huh?”

“How’d you know?” I said.

“Because you have an entirely full shopping cart with one of each item. Kind of a dead giveaway.”

We chatted as she rang us up, and we mentioned that we were looking to possibly buy a house in Highland Park. She lit up, said we’d love it there and could get some great deals, then glanced at the back of the line and said, “Ooh … you should talk to Angel back there.” From the back of the line a disembodied voice said, “You wanna buy a house in Highland Park, you talk to me! I’ve been in the business for 35 years!” We couldn’t see her because she was maybe 5′ tall in her stiletto-heeled leather boots. That was where we met the force of nature in her perfectly coiffed ‘do, Jackie O sunglasses, long thin brown cigarettes, silk jacket from a poker casino in Henderson, Nevada who was made of awesome and indeed named Angel, and 10 months later she put us in our house not in Highland Park, but next door in Eagle Rock.

We have Galco’s to thank for that, as well as a lot of great beer and great sodas. Here’s a wonderful 12-minute look inside their operation, guided by their owner and passionate engine John Nese.

Even though we’re not actually in Highland Park we’re right next door and it’s part of our neighborhood. Come on down to 5702 York Blvd. in Highland Park and let yourself loose in Galco’s. I suspect you’ll end up with a full shopping cart with one (maybe two) of each item. Permalink

A few weeks back Wesly and I met up with Mary, Steve and Diana at Langer’s Deli, which is widely recognized as having the best pastrami anywhere (and I even know some New York Jews who agree — let the arguing begin!). When we parked at their parking lot a block away, we saw the most bizarre mural painted on the building wall next to it.  For a few minutes we were scratching our heads and saying, “WTF?”

Finally Steve was the one to get it. “It’s swine flu!”   We thought the snot streaming out of the pig’s nose was the killer touch.

On a less disgusting note, we did have absolutely fantastic pastrami as ever, thick and spicy and hand-cut, with the perfect amount of fat — just enough, and not too much.  (I already had a good picture from a previous visit, so I got lazy and didn’t take another one.)

There was one other picture I took while we were there, though.  Our dear friend Dave passed away in July, and we miss him terribly.  Dave loved Langer’s and we felt he should have been there, at least in some way.  So we bought several extra side orders of their kosher pickles, and spelled his name out:

Then he was there.  We weren’t able to finish all those pickles, but it was worth it.

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