Linni Eats L.A.:Pure Luck

Something shifty has been going down with Los Angeles vegan cuisine. An already difficult dining task has been made more so by the dubious closing of several herbivorous favorites, causing me to pause and ponder—must we all convert to carnivory in times of recession?

Many food bloggers blame the economic crisis, an easy target were it not for the other carnivorous restaurants that seem to be hanging in there. Has the vegan lifestyle been relegated to the status of luxury?

Many deride organic, local and sustainable food movements as snobby, a reputation that unfortunately gets slapped onto vegan establishments too. This is hardly fair when you consider not only how many restaurant choices animal-eaters have, but the ever-expanding population of vegans. With the number of converts increasing every day, it’s getting harder and harder to use the excuse that there aren’t enough vegans to justify multiple vegan joints.

While many favorites have closed, I recently found a secret vegan combo that’s surviving the bad economy—Scoops ice cream shop and their neighbor, the aptly-titled Pure Luck cafe. Located in the HelMel interchange in east Hollywood’s bicycle district, Pure Luck is a vegan gastro-pub and Scoops serves up ice cream flavors that are so unique, they make 21 Choices look downright bland.

A gastro-pub! For vegans! Somewhat hidden off the main drag, Pure Luck is just across the street from Scoops. With all this right next to L.A. City College, I’m considering transferring out of Oxy to make a home with this hip crowd.

In actuality, the crowd may be the only drawback at these two places. Dudes looking to fit in ought to don a flannel and a solid next-day shadow, while the ladies best have those tattoos showing. Or you could awkwardly stumble in wearing Crocs and feel like a square, like me. Don’t let the hipsters get you down—the food tastes the same no matter how tight your jeans are.

I threw mom’s warnings to the wind and visited Scoops first after getting on Pure Luck’s Saturday night waiting list. Pistachio date, chocolate Jack Daniels, pomegranate passionfruit coconut, vegan guava kiwi and brown bread made with Grape Nuts cereal jockeyed for preferential treatment. The ones worth ordering a whole cup, however, were a little more on the savory side. Scoops is known for inventive creations like strawberry balsamic, and tonight their stars were the black sesame honey, which paired gloriously with a black peppercorn chocolate. Second place went to the Guinness and Chocolate Peanut Butter pairing—the latter flavor was surprisingly and pleasantly salty, a visionary accompaniment to the standard brew. I felt like I was munching roasted peanuts out of a snack bowl at an Irish pub.

The gentlemen behind the counter were kind enough to hold our ample servings in the freezer while we ate dinner. And what gentlemen they were—if I were in the business of objectifying men, I would come to Scoops just for the servers. Luckily for them, the ice cream is good enough to be the main attraction.

Back at Pure Luck, I spotted Three Philosophers beer on tap and knew this was going to be a whirlwind experience. My cheeks flushed with excitement when I spotted peanut-oil fried plantains on the menu, and my blush grew deeper when I saw that their “carnitas” were made with jackfruit. Trying to decide between the cornmeal-fried pickles or rosemary French fries as appetizers, my face nearly exploded with giddy heat to see that you can get those specific snacks served half-and-half! They came with a garlic aioli and a barbecue sauce that smacked of homemade.

Massive entrees come with sides—fries, salads, soup of the day (an intensely flavored posole) or any substitution you desire. Our incredibly accommodating waitress dusted off our self-effacing comments about pickiness, saying my demand for plantains as a side would only be annoying if it weren’t so reasonable.

The fries carried a strong rosemary scent, but were a little soggy. Instead, I gorged on the pickles, which lived up to every carnival dream I’ve had about them. The mother load arrived next in the form of a grilled ciabatta roll with tofu grilled to perfection, with a basil spinach pesto and mayo, all vegan. Then the grand finale, Jack’s Super Burrito Wrap. This behemoth arrived neatly wrapped, showing no signs of it’s explosive interior—the jackfruit carnitas reside in a paradise of fresh cilantro, pinto beans and sweet potato fries, all luxuriously bathing in the housemade barbecue sauce. Add avocado for a dollar. You won’t regret it.

With Scoops right there, they don’t bother making dessert, though the menu says they’ll put whipped cream on the plantains if you ask nicely. This meal provided enough food to have me living on leftovers for days, a steal considering the sandwich’s $10 price tag and $5 appetizers. Their immense selection of tap and bottled beers also keep things reasonable, which leaves me wondering how the economy is putting so many of these gems out of business.

What they need is a continued fan base. So whether you’re vegan or not, head over and support the seitan out of this place—it’s the gold standard of a dying breed, the model and yardstick against which all other vegan restaurants should aspire to. If this place can’t make it, what will?