Don Antonio's
If you’re born and raised in Los Angeles, chances are you carry a Mexican restaurant in your heart—a place that has quietly marked the passage of your life. A dining room that has witnessed birthday candles, family toasts, and the slow accumulation of years. For my family and me, that place is Don Antonio’s, just off Pico and Bundy. I don’t often sing the praises of the Westside, but when I do, it’s usually in reference to Don Antonio’s. Owned by Steve and Ester, the restaurant feels less like a business and more like an extension of home. The staff greet you by name, many of them having worked there for decades. My mother ate at Don Antonio’s the night before she gave birth to me, so it’s fair to say this place is woven into my origin story. Inside, the space is warm and delightfully eccentric—red booths, colorful tilework, and a room tucked away like a cenote, cave-like and glowing. The food completes the feeling. A basket of piping-hot chips arrives at the table, followed by their zesty, house-made salsa—comfort in its purest form. Every dish tastes like it was cooked with memory in mind. In my family, we always return to the albóndigas soup, the fish tacos, and the chile verde, with sides of beans and rice that demand equal reverence. You leave full, content, and certain that you’ll be back—because places like this don’t just feed you, they hold you. Don Antonio's 11755 West Pico Blvd, West LA, CA. 90064 (310) 312-2090 Tues - Sun: 11am - 9pm CLOSED on Mondays
Sacred Space w/ Radha
Sacred Space w/ Radah on NTS Radio These monthly mixes by Radah are always on repeat for me. Her curation feels smooth, timeless, and effortlessly distinctive. She weaves R&B, ambient, and folk into something both grounding and sensual—music that creates ease, warmth, and quiet joy at any hour. I put her mixes on for yoga, while cooking, or when the moment turns intimate.
Hats
Hats by The Blue Nile feels like music made for late hours and low light. The album moves slowly and deliberately, carried by quiet synths, aching melodies, and Paul Buchanan’s hushed, heart-on-sleeve delivery. It’s romantic without being sentimental, melancholic without heaviness—an album that rewards stillness. I reach for Hats when I want to sink into a mood, soften the edges of the day, or let a little longing linger.
Strange Flower
Strange Flower by AYA feels quietly intimate and inviting, like music meant to be discovered rather than announced. The album moves gently between soft vocals and textured electronics, creating a sense of closeness without feeling confined. There’s a tenderness to it—curious, human, and subtly emotional—that unfolds with time. I put Strange Flower on when I want to feel present and open, letting the night soften rather than sharpen around me.
