When you walk in from the escalator you’ll see baristas wearing dad caps embroidered with the phrase “Tutto Benne” or “Everything Good” in Italian. I feel kinda bad for the Beverly Hills bakery with the same name down the street, but “everything good” evokes a calming rasta vibe that you’ll need before doing a lap in Eataly, especially on Black Friday weekend. Also of note, famous chef Mario Batali is a shareholder in Eataly, and you can, or should I say could have seen his branded products all over the store, he seems to be having a bad week though, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they pulled all the orange spatulas.

Extravagant chrome espresso machines that look like Russian castles stand in place of the sleek and modern third wave coffee matte finish units. No fixed gear silkscreen bags of beans for sale, just the classic Italian Lavazza stuff that seems to have got most of the world for the last decade. After living in a foodie bubble for the last few years, it felt refreshingly comforting to see something just regular, done well. Like when you go your childhood mall that kinda sucked.

Their bakery section up next, with a museum-like viewing window. Dinosaur sized mixers turning focaccia dough, a thin layer of flour over every surface, the flour looks imported. If you’re lucky, you might catch a lady weighing out eggs because that’s what bakers do, grab a stale crust sample from her. The housemade potato chips, encased in a lucite aquarium struck me as the first of many things in Eataly that are surprisingly priced well. That unexpected price tag carries over to their produce section, a smart collection of basics and seasonal exotic fruits and veggies. It’s not all about a rare and strangely beautiful radish here, I’d say the produce is somewhere between a Whole Foods and a farmer’s market, both in terms of product, and price (in a good way.)

No Pacifico in the beer cooler, but for some reason a small section of the cheese area has a couple Oaxacan cheeses and Cotijas in there, maybe a distributor favor. It’s not that bizarre of a sighting normally, but it would be the first and last non-Italian thing I’d see that day, not counting the parking lot. Their Italian offerings are priced well and abundantly- you can grab a four dollar nub of parmesan to microplane over pastas at home, and at $28 a pound for Reggiano  (it’s nice to just get a lil’ bit.)  The dried pasta and canned tomato section might be my favorite though, a library of pastas and sauces I’ve never seen before. Five aisles of dry pasta alone! Maybe it’s a good thing I live across town.

Oddly, Eataly somehow has the best selection of milks, both alternative and dairy, I’ve ever seen. From stoner-labeled unpasteurized heavy creams driven down from upstate, to seasonal Strauss eggnog in thick glass bottles, eight dollar almond milk from brands even I’ve never seen IRL. I’m starting to feel like I’m back in the womb, that body high I get from going to the overpriced fancy market I can’t afford, and just browsing around. You get the feeling that for those 45 minutes, the rest of the world doesn’t matter and you can just admire nice stuff. Waiting for a pizza slice could give Howlin Ray’s a run for its money, the line long like their pizzas, airy and risen, shaped like snow shoes and sliced onto those wood planks you’d put a cheese platter on, or spank a frat brother with. The self checkout area offers some much needed alone time after all that, buy some pasta, a weird can of imported tomatoes, and a little hunk of parma. For now, the food lines are really long, especially on the weekend, no wonder they tell you to grab a glass of wine before you do anything here.

Eataly L.A.

10250 Santa Monica Blvd. 

Los Angeles, CA 90067