84: Truffle Honey-Laced Fried Chicken at Manhattan Beach Post.
When David LeFevre decamped to this sleepy Manhattan Beach space from downtown's Water Grill, a place better known for expense-account oysters and anniversary king crab, it was probably the most transformative occurrence since the city started hosting the 6-Man Beach Volleyball Tournament in 1961 (discounting the opening of Sharkeez, of course). Not only did the beach cities finally have a restaurant of national culinary note on their hands, but they netted a damn fun place to eat, too.
Manhattan Beach Post has come to be known as one of the better brunch spots in town, a place where you can supplement a weekend trip to the beach with a few rich bacon cheddar biscuits smeared with maple butter. The thing that has become the restaurant's dish of the moment is probably the fried chicken, a plate of crispy, glistening poultry drizzled with a sweet perfumed sauce that sticks to your fingers and permeates every drop of juice that spurts from the supple meat. It's down-home yet upscale, and isn't dissimilar from what you'd find at Honey's Kettle a few miles away in Compton. The crunchy multicolored kohlrabi slaw that comes on the side? That's pure bikini food.