Missed out on Brian Addison’s Favorite Things of past? We got you covered—just click here.

Too many years back, I wrote a very self-indulgent listicle that was about so-called “essential” Long Beach dishes; dishes that I loved and could depend on as long as that place existed—and I wrote it because there’s something so elemental and useful about a specific great dish at a specific place. It was less about some grander proclamation than it was about, “This is just great food.” (I’ve done a much more comprehensive, similar list since then.)

And after a year of not doing such lists, I want to return to it. Not some grand list of “essential dishes”—that is too hard of a burden to put on a restaurant: You better have this and you better have it all the time. But for now, in this moment, I am happy to share some of my favorite things.

In other words: Why not just own the moment? Without further ado, here are the favorite things I’m eating right now…

Empanadas from Black Pork

1916 W. Willow St.

Black Pork is West Long Beach’s hidden gem, smushed between two dive bars on Willow Street in what could easily be one of the Top 5 Most Long Beach Restaurants. Ran by wife-and-husband Veronica Lopez and Luis Mendiola, Black Pork’s menu happily sees no cultural boundary. Porchetta here. A Cuban sandwich there. A 45-day-aged steak over here. A stellar bowl of clam chowder over there.

There is really no bad order at Black Pork—you’re safe to explore everything—but their empanadas are outright magical.

You have a few options but I definitively suggest two. One is their chorizo con papas, and the other is their marinated pork. Heavily spiced, these savory bombs come in a happily fried pocket. And that pocket? A buttery, bubbly crust that eschews the smoothness of the baked empanadas over at OBRA and acts as the perfect carrier for both its filling and the chimichurri served on the side. (Pro tip? Ask for the salsa verde, a huancaina-gone-spicy-like concoction, and, particularly if you’re a fan of heat, their habanero salsa. You won’t regret it.)

Look for my full profile in the coming weeks.

Artichoke dip with grilled flatbread from ISM Brewing

210 E. 3rd St.

Many people ask me if I receive benefits when walking into restaurants, and, to be entirely honest, I often do. And I would be outright lying if I said I didn’t deeply appreciate each one because they usually don’t feel transactional. What I mean by that is that there is a mutual respect between me and many of the spaces I write about; it is far more camaraderie than purely professional exchanges.

So when Chef Bobby Gill—the kitchen manager at ISM Brewing and the man responsible for their stellar burger program—randomly asked me if I wanted some artichoke dip, he knew I was in. What I wasn’t expecting was how decadently wonderful the dish is. A call-back to the comfort “fancy” foods for us poor kids in the ’90s, it exudes everything you want from such a dip: a solid, carby pick-up device, a browned, cheesy crust on the top, and a bring-your-Lactaid layer underneath.

Loaded potato custard with caviar from Sky Room

210 E. Ocean Blvd. (inside Fairmont Breakers)

Chef Maxwell Pfeiffer—overseeing Sky Room at Fairmont Breakers in DTLB under Executive Chef Jared Reeves—is truly finding his rhythm and beat at Sky Room. Surely, as with any new space, Sky Room faced minor criticisms about service and consistency; I didn’t experience this, though I understand I am often treated vastly differently than the typical customer. I can confidently say that, compared to its opening months, Sky Room’s kitchen has found both confidence and execution that are only growing in mastery.

Launching into their first set of prix fixe course dinners, Chef Max is flexing across proteins—yes, there is halibut and chicken, but they now sit next to squab, lamb, and venison—and vegetables. And that latter area is where he particularly excels. Stellar plates of asparagus, artichokes, and aubergine have already appeared, but his loaded potato custard? It is something gorgeous. Minuscule bits of bacon. Tiny dollops of crème fraiche. Topped with Tsar Nicoulai caviar. It is, simply, wondrous.

Earl grey cream soda from Can Do! Formulation inside Black Ring Coffee

373 Long Beach Blvd.

Black Ring Coffee quietly underwent a significant change this year, with former and longtime owners Juliette Simpkins and Trevor Moisen selling the business to a new owner in January. However, that new owner has brought on a Long Beach coffee legend to helm the ship: Robby Hainley. You might have seen him at Steelhead and, if you’re a real OG, you would know him from Makai (which is now Jugband, which was formerly Deja Brew on Broadway and Temple).

And yes, while he is now roasting the coffee for Black Ring—harkening to the hallmarks of Juliette’s style and helping the brand evolve—his main endeavor is his Can Do! Formulation business. On the surface level, he helps people create shelf-ready canned drinks, be it coffee or cocktails.

Of course, what isn’t heavily advertised are his creations and how they’re available at Black Ring Coffee. My absolute favorite? His Earl Grey cream soda is the perfect match for people who love the earthy, herbal distinctness of Earl Grey but want it cold, carbonated, and creamy. It is an outright beautiful concoction worth ordering multiple times.

Biscuit sausage sandwich from Hartland’s

1900 Ocean Blvd. (on second floor above lobby)

Chef Rob White—the man heading both Liv’s in the Shore and Hartland’s in Alamitos Beach—has opted to give Hartland’s an all-brunch, all-day menu with the latest iteration of the space’s offerings. Surely, there are salads. And yes, there are shrimp’n’grits. Yes, there are plenty of omelettes. Yes, there are plenty of burritos. And yes, they kept their stellar burger on the menu. 

But the real star? Hartland’s sausage biscuit sandwich. Simple on the surface—but sneaky in the details. A fluffy biscuit, slightly sweetened thanks to maple butter. Happily spiced, house-made pork sausage. Soft—thank the Egg Gods—scrambled egg. Cheddar. Sweet, salty, rich, forthright in idea. Just a fabulous example of hiding the details in what is ultimately simplicity.

Missed out on Brian Addison’s Favorite Things of past? We got you covered—just click here.