DINNER WITH A STRANGER

DINNER WITH A PAPARAZZI PHOTOGRAPHER
Bar Marmont at the Chateau Marmont
8221 W Sunset Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90046
(323) 650-1040


We met Giles at Bar Marmont, a favorite watering hole and public execution spot for Lindsey Lohan, Vince Vaughn, Matt Dillon, Owen Wilson, Elijah Wood (or is it Toby Maguire?), and countless other Hollywood types. Here, underneath a flock of actual butterflies meticulously pinned to the ceiling, we hoped to find the Dinner with a Papparazzi Holy Trinity: good food, good drink, and a good old-fashioned celebrity paparazzi standoff.

I guess 2 out of 3 ain’t bad.


He wasn’t at all what you’d expect. No cargo shorts. No backwards hat. No bouquet of cameras around his neck. No, there was nothing TMZ about him at all. You see, Giles isn’t your typical paparazzi; a fact that he solidified right off the bat when we asked him where his trusty camera was.

Giles: “I’m off the clock.”

You may wonder what kind of self-respecting paparazzi is ever off the clock? Well, as we would learn over the course of our dinner, the self-respecting kind.

And, on that note, since we were all off the clock, we ordered some drinks.

Now, normally we stick to reviewing food and people. But Bar Marmont has a reputation for pouring a damn good cocktail. And this night was no exception.

Giles ordered a gin & tonic. And though that sounds simple, like soup to a chef, gin & tonic is one of those true tests of a barman’s hand. This one did not disappoint. We ordered a scotch neat, which was a scotch neat, and their famous Calvados Sidecar, a sweet libation that was like liquid Lemon Head. i.e. delicious candy.

We raised our respective glasses and got down to business.

Giles was actually born in England to American parents, and, if you listen closely, you can still hear the ghost of a British accent. His dad was in the Air Force, so by the time he was starting to grow hair in funny places, he had seen the world. England, New York, the Midwest, Alaska, and eventually Los Angeles, where he’s been for the better part of two decades.

He, like most, chased his dreams of writing and production to the Promised Land. And, like many, he ended up attending, and eventually, planning parties instead.

He didn’t know it at the time but it was this elbow rubbing and flesh pressing that would eventually establish a network of contacts and leads for a career in celebrity photography. His career started innocently enough with a buddy who needed another person to man a camcorder. His career started with queen of slow-motion running, Pamela Anderson.

And, speaking of juicy, overstuffed treats, our appetizers arrived just in time. We started with their Chatcuterie, which is just fancy word for the process of preserving meats, usually pork,that is served on a cheese board. Marmont’s featured thin slices of speck, topped with cuts of sharp Parmesan cheese, soft, ripe figs and a pile of spicy arugula, drizzled in a sweet balsamic reduction. It was one of the best we’ve had, and the figs made a pleasantly surprising addition that complimented the Chatcuterie and the Pamela Anderson story perfectly.

Apparently, Giles had been recruited by his friend to operate a video camera while he snapped pictures of the Baywatch vixen. As we stuffed our faces with animal products, we asked him when he knew he had become a paparazzi. In return, we got the best sound byte of the evening:

“While I was shooting Pam, she looked right at me and said, ‘Don’t you have anything better you do, you lowlife fuck?’ And, well, I didn’t. That’s when I knew I had found my calling.

Just as we wrapped up Chapter 1, our Oxtail Bruschetta arrived. The juicy ox meat was piled high on a toasted baguette that also doubled as a sponge. It was topped with a heaping portion of sautéed parsley and caramelized, red onions drenched in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. The flavor was great, but it wasn’t long before the crispy toast became a soggy mess.


Last, and definitely least, came the crispy ricotta meatballs. These fried balls looked like Long John Silver’s hush puppies tasted, well, worse. And after biting into one of the fried balls, it was confirmed: Ricotta isn’t meant to be fried. We tried to create flavor in the flavorless bites by dunking it in the sweet Chile sauce that accompanied, but it was hopeless…much like the entire dish. Not worth your stomach’s real estate.

After the worst appetizer of the night, we had to ask the burning question: who’s the worst? The biggest asshole in Hollywood? We assumed it would be our nemesis, Harrison Ford, but again, we got the last answer we were expecting.




That’s right: Helen Cunt (do you mean Hunt?). One of the most beloved female leads of our time is an uppity bitch.

The list of usual suspects went on from there. Pierce Brosnan, Sean Penn, Screech, etc. But, on the bright side, Hugh Jackman is apparently a kitten. Don’t believe everything you see in X-Men (you know who you are). And many other Tinseltowners, believe it or not, relish the opportunity to have a photo snapped. The smart ones, as Giles explains, realize that their celebrity status hinges on their maintaining a spot in the public eye.

Many of these stars and starlets constantly update their locations on Twitter or facebook while some even call Giles directly. And for those less enterprising celebrities, there’s more than enough people willing to tip off the cameramen. Giles says he gets dozens leads everyday from valet guys, bus boys, limo drivers, flight attendants, taxi drivers and anyone who wants to make a cool 100 bucks just for picking up the phone.

But, as Giles explains, all the leads in the world are no replacement for having the eye. He spends most of his days driving around and spotting the celebrities that most of us disregard as normal people- the ones that we Angelinos walk right past everyday without so much as batting an eye. And, believe it or not, a picture of a celebrity coming out of a store or jogging along the PCH is worth almost as much as an Emma Watson upskirt.

But don’t be fooled. It’s not all casually chasing leads. No, just as the main course arrived, Giles geared up to regale us with a story of near-death paparazzing. But, first things first….


We started with the special of the night: a gourmet pizza topped with thick slices of tomatoes, dollops of goat cheese, caramelized onions, fried artichokes, sweet figs and chorizo. The pizza wasn’t thick but it wasn’t thin. It wasn’t sweet, but it wasn’t savory. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad. It just was.

If you want a flatbread, just do yourself a favor and go to Ford’s Filling Station. You won’t be disappointed.

Anyway, next came the Halibut, which, if you recall, is a white fish. However, when the almond crusted halibut arrived, it was pink. We thought it was salmon but after forking it open, we saw it’s flakey, white flesh. It was simple and light, free of the usual butter bath most fish take at other restaurants. It was topped with very novel grilled peaches. They were delicious and complimented the fish perfectly.

Lastly came Giles’s roasted chicken, which wasn’t roasted. That bitch was fried, but this is one bait and switch I could get used to. It was delicious. The mashed potatoes housed a pool of butter and the fried Kale acted as a great vegetable placebo. It was hands down the best entrée of the bunch and, really, something worth going back for.

As we slowly ate his chicken, Giles proceeded to tell us the most exciting tale of espionage, Mexican Federales, gunships and Brad Pitt we’ve heard outside the Oceans franchise.

Giles was in Mexico trying to sneak into a sea-side resort where Brad Pitt and then gf Jennifer Aniston were vacationing when he inadvertently trespassed on Mexican Military property. He was quickly apprehended by the Federale and suspected of espionage. After much questioning of what I assume was aggressive water boarding, he was released.

But wait, there’s more.

Instead of cutting his losses and returning to the US, he instead rented a boat and returned to the scene. But this didn’t fool the crafty Federale. He was chased for over an hour across the Gulf of Mexico by Mexican gunships. They were eventually caught. And while their lives were spared, their film didn’t have the same fate. Giles stood and watched as everything he put his life on the line for was tossed into the ocean.

CLICK HERE to help yourself visualize this struggle.

As we swapped war stories and cleaned our plates, our waitress dropped off the dessert menu and a recommendation. She told us that the Salty Pistachio Crumble came to their exec chef, Carolyn Spence, in a dream. When she woke up, she proceeded to spend the entire day troubleshooting and perfecting the recipe. Who were we to turn down a serendipitous desert?

Needless to say, it was dreamy. The moist, pistachio-flavored bunt cake was rich and dense in a good way, while the pistachio flavored gelato topping it was rich and heavy, also in a good way. The pile was drizzle with delightfully thick pistachio syrup that left you with an incredible sweet, salty, orgasmic taste after every bite.
It was dessert perfect.

Eat this, people.

The perfect dessert was the perfect ending to one of the most perfect “Dinner With A Stranger” dinners we’ve had yet. Giles was everything we didn’t expect. And it was delightful. We were hoping to get the stereotype and, again, our plans were foiled. Instead we left dinner with a friend.

While we didn’t have a celebrity run-in, we did find the Holy Trinity: good food, good drink and good company.