Susan Feniger
Photo: Helena Ruffin
With her wild hair and manic grin, Susan Feniger may be the most joyous culinary icon you'll ever meet. She's a classically trained chef who, along with her longtime business partner Mary Sue Milliken, changed the way we understand food here in Los Angeles – first with City Restaurant in 1981, then with Border Grill in 1985 and Ciudad in 1999. Together, they were the Food Network's Too Hot Tamales. Now on her own, Feniger has returned to her roots with Street (742 N. Highland Ave.; 323-203-0500), a trendy, multiethnic small-bites eatery. The chef took time from her hectic schedule to chat with us about the project.
Merrill Shindler: You just opened – is there any rest for the weary?
Susan Feniger: I have not stopped, literally. I'm working 18-hour days, averaging four hours of sleep a night. My feet are killing me. I've never had problems before. We got there at 7 in the morning the day before we opened, and worked nonstop trying to get ready, figure out that tiny little kitchen. I thought about going home. But it didn't work, so we worked all night, all the next day, finally left at one in the morning. Four hours sleep felt fabulous.
MS: So, you're back to a normal schedule – for a chef.
SF: I go to bed at two, get up at six. The second I wake up, my mind is going – I'm always trying to figure out what I can do to make a station work better? It's a large ethnic menu, with many ethnic groups and not a lot of crossover in terms of ingredients. It's an organizational nightmare. I think about it all the time. I haven't had to do this in a long time.
MS: Can Street go on the street? Instead of sit-down, could it be served from a stand…or a truck?
SF: It's something we've thought about. It would be fantastic – a fast version of what we're doing. We've put a window between the kitchen and the patio; I really wanted that. I didn't understand how much fun that window would be. I'll see someone I know, I'll open the window and whistle. Someone will knock on the window to say hello. It's like a street cart, but it doesn't move. It's created this accessibility: I hand plates to people through the window. It's a real street kind of thing.
MS: And you're a real street kind of person, a chef who loves the down and, hopefully, not too dirty.
SF: When I travel, I never go to a known restaurant. I'm so much more interested in the food and the connection to the people making it. There's a cultural connection found on the street, the small neighborhood place, the lady making the dumplings at the stand in the alley. The first time I stepped off the plane in India, I was sure I had had another life there, because I connected to it so intensely. I still feel that 30 years later. I connect that way to street food and to the people making it. I love this food. This restaurant is all about a culture of living. This food is alive.
MS: Do you obsess on authenticity?
SF: Our panni puri is very authentic. An Indian customer said it was the best next to his mother's. Our mung bean pancakes are our take on a traditional dish, our translation. The Thai Bites are exactly the same as you'd find in Bangkok. But really, it's not about total authenticity – it's about tasting good. That's got to be our first job.
MS: Your menu is all over the map – literally. Aside from Antarctic chow, what's missing?
SF: The place I most want to go to is Vietnam. I don't know why; it's just where I want to go. It's a whole new world for me to taste.
MS: How about bugs? When I think of street food, I think of tasty, deep fried bugs – croutons with legs.
SF: I'm not a big bug fan. I want to do food I love, and that the public will love. And I don't love bugs. So, really, why? It's not about the shock value. It's about opening someone's eyes, and someone's taste buds. It's about serving them food they'll love – that they didn't know they'd love. It's all about revelation, awareness. It's about opening people's minds. And not about bugs.
– Merrill Shindler