My husband and I were both born and raised in Venice, and we can no longer afford to live here. It breaks my heart when I tell this to people, but we’re not alone. The people we say this to all know someone — a daughter, a friend or coworker — priced out of Venice just like us.
Forty years ago, Venice was considered undesirable. Before GQ called it “the coolest block in America,” Abbot Kinney was known as West Washington Boulevard, with only one restaurant and a string of vacant storefronts.
Venice was riddled with drugs and gang violence. As a kid I used to think people were yelling “quack” at us as we drove down Brooks Avenue. I witnessed a drive-by shooting when I was a senior at Venice High School.
My dad and stepmom handed down a love of Venice to me. …
Read the full article at The Argonaut.



On a cone, in a cup, between two cookies or even inside a waffle taco shell, ice cream in all of its many incarnations remains the official treat of summer. And these days, Baskin-Robbins and Ben & Jerry’s aren’t the only game in town.
Playa del Rey feels like a charming little beach town tucked away from the rest of Los Angeles, so perhaps it’s fitting that the chefs behind a brand-new poke shop on Culver Boulevard would hide it in the back of a neighborhood convenience store.

