Table at Third & Fairfax is a weekly dining column in 2023 where Food and Drink editor Patricia Kelly Yeo will eat her way through the Original Farmers Market. Each column will drop on Thursday for a week-by-week recap of her journey through the classic L.A. tourist attraction. Last week, Kelly tried the Salad Bar.
For the first time in months, the thermostat cracks 80 degrees on Friday, making the market look and feel as beautiful and idyllic as tourists must imagine L.A. to always be. Summer feels imminent when I enter through the West Patio, every table filled with folks enjoying the warm weather, eating tacos from Trejo’s Tacos, pizza from Friends & Family and smoothies from the Salad Bar. Money in hand, I’m ready to visit Sushi A Go Go (est. 2001), one of the few cash-only vendors and the tiniest stall by square footage at the Farmers Market.
Founded by Hiro Funaoku and Janet Nicholson, the stand offers inexpensive, everyday sushi, mostly in the form of fusion-style maki: think caterpillar rolls stuffed with imitation crab, dragon rolls topped with crisp teriyaki eel and lots of shrimp tempura. In other words, the kind of fare purists would scoff at, but great for those who love sushi in all its forms. I’m not averse to a well-made roll, but I’m not in the mood to play another game of immune system roulette with my shrimp sensitivity, so I order the 10-piece nigiri market special ($24), asking the employee at the cash register to substitute something else for the shrimp.
It’s not fair to compare Sushi A Go Go to the dozens of high-end L.A. omakase options I’ve been slowly making my way through for work, but I do believe it’s fair to compare it to similarly priced options like Murakami Sushi, Kula Revolving Sushi Bar, SushiStop and the sushi section at Erewhon, which is actually more affordable for prepared food than the location might imply. In truth, I haven’t eaten at a place where the price of nigiri breaks down to $2.40 apiece in a long, long time; whenever I’m craving raw fish, I usually count the days until my next omakase reservation or order a Hawaiian poke or chirashi bowl.
In under 10 minutes, I receive my order, which comes with ikura (salmon roe), masago (smelt roe), two pieces of tuna, two pieces of salmon (one substituting for shrimp), albacore tuna with ponzu, sauce-drenched unagi (freshwater eel), tamago (sweet egg omelette) and a piece of whitefish that looks like hirame (halibut). The gunkan-style roe pieces are both tasty enough, even if the seaweed has already gotten slightly too chewy. Though I discard about half the sushi rice from each nigiri, the salmon and tuna pieces get the job done.
All goes well until I bite into the whitefish and have to retrieve a little curl of plastic wrap from my mouth. Slightly grossed out, I set the rest of the piece aside. While I don’t have the highest expectations for budget-friendly sushi, it shouldn’t contain the plastic wrap that covers the mound of fish in the sushi counter. I finish the last two pieces, eel and tamago, carefully inspecting each for any foreign objects. Scraping my uneaten rice into the trash, I walk around in search of something cold and refreshing for dessert.
I end up once again at the West Patio’s Local Ice, ordering a hot lava sundae ($14.99), which layers chocolate and vanilla ice cream with brownies, hot fudge, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, peanuts and a cherry. Unfortunately, the “hot fudge” at Local Ice is just room-temperature chocolate sauce. The sundae itself is good, but not great, unlike the one I’ve had at Bennett’s. On a hot day, though, I’m happy to get to eat frozen dessert, especially before getting back on the road to fight traffic.
Meals from Table at Third & Fairfax fall into three categories: Skip It, Worth Trying and Must Have.
Vendor: Sushi A Go Go
Order: The 10-piece nigiri market special
Verdict: Skip It. Sloppily made with lower-quality fish, you can find better sushi at Erewhon down the street—and you won’t need to visit an ATM in the process.
Vendor: Local Ice
Order: Hot lava sundae
Verdict: Worth Trying. The “hot fudge” isn’t remotely warm or fudgy, but this decadent chocolate sundae will get the job done.