It was a Hollywood Sunday afternoon; the sunny haze drenches the low rise buildings with a 70's sunshine cellophane like film. I pass by a partially opened door and peek into what I gather is a congregation of sorts, latin music comes through as does the sounds of fans furiously expunging the body heat emanating from the bodies squished inside a brick & mortar sardine can.Parking at a street meter, (forgetting that there's always valet in LA) I get a pedestrian view of the restaurant and it's arrival; amidst a diverse neighborhood (both in architecture and use) little fork's exterior seems rather sparse, even nondescript to the glancing eye.
But walking towards the monolithic structure, with a discerning eye, you can see the subtle nuances of small yet deliberate details that defines minimal theory; the light grey concrete facade in a smooth, honed finish is a shade lighter than your average dull, cellblock variety, a line of vertical windows serving as the only architectural fenestration into the main dining room define a visual language, albeit a nominal one. With the only ornamentation being it's name: electrified luminous neon tubing of 'little fork' in lower case script ... minimal monolith juxtaposed with 'bodega deli' signage hints as to the mangeables you'll find inside..
