When The Monster first arrived in LA (right about the time when these newfangled things called automobiles were introduced but definitely before the advent of selfies and memes) he lived on the border of MDR/Venice in a place best remembered for the mirrored closets that never opened properly and ants that took up residence in the kitchen and never left. He had a horrid job that involved a Chevy S-10 pick-up with no air conditioning, a worse haircut and nothing even close to resembling a life.
Right across the way was a place called Killer Shrimp. A place The Monster would hobble over to in order to escape the drudgery of his life and eat said killer shrimp while quietly mumbling to himself. It is one of if not the first places The Monster ever remembers eating at in LA. And so it is fitting that the very last restaurant to be covered on FTM (more on this later) is Killer Shrimp.
The Monster heads over to the new digs in MDR with a killer (pun, intended, horrible) spot right on the water which boasts the only dock from which you can pull up in your boat, onload yourself and your fabulous friends with perfectly windswept hair and have a cocktail while gorging on the now famous signature dish.
Sitting down with Kevin Michaels, the owner of KS and son of the man who came up with the still secret recipe many moons ago, The Monster is flooded with memories of the last fifteen years of life in LA. There is the good, the bad and the ugly. On this day, the good is all we care about. And there is plenty.
Kevin orders up the shrimp, scallops, lobster mac, a special fried coconut shrimp (an order in total that has The Monster dizzy with glee) and as we chat The Monster realizes he has not had breakfast and the possibility exists that he might faint. Or eat his incredibly kind and amiable host Kevin.
Soon enough the food is spread about the table (weird looks from other patrons as The Monster is now alone and looks exactly like a prisoner fresh released who orders everything because finally he can) and the bacchanal begins.
Yes, the scallops are wonderful, the mashed potatoes creamy and buttery, the mac lobster filled, gooey and decadent, the fried shrimp are fried and shrimp and that equals marvelous obviously. But let’s talk about the killer shrimp.
Because one bite is a teleportation device to a bygone era before The Monster decided to eat his way through LA, before his life as film & TV producer, before he met is wife, before, before, before.
If you have not sopped up the killer shrimp sauce with the basket of bread provided to the point of near oblivion, if you have not eaten so many damn crustaceans that the very ocean asks why you are so unkind to her creatures, if you have not tipped the bowl over and drank from the broth like manna from the heavens, well then, you have not lived liked The Monster has lived. For some of you that is probably a-ok, for the rest, who have shared this epicurean journey over the years as friends and fellow food travelers, that is something to remedy asap.
And so it is, with this last restaurant post (one more post coming later today) that The Monster bids you all adieu.
Eat well. Be well.
4211 Admiralty Way
Marina Del Rey, CA 90292