Recent Entries from Jessica Ritz Movable Type Pro 4.38 2014-08-18T11:33:59Z SoCal's Longstanding Pastrami Obsession,2014:/living/food//1240.74309 2014-08-18T18:33:59Z 2014-08-18T18:33:48Z Pastrami has a long Los Angeles history. We'd venture to say it's even more iconic to our city than it is to New York. Jessica Ritz On Santa Monica Boulevard near La Brea in the West Hollywood Gateway complex, sandwich emporium Mendocino Farms touts its artisanal, small-batch pastrami made in collaboration with a culinary outfit known as Ugly Drum. The brisket meat is smoked for twelve hours over pecan wood, the details of the rub ingredients predictably shrouded in some degree of secrecy, and the final result is fork-tender, thickly sliced meat consciously stacked in a particular way so as to achieve optimum fat-to-lean-meat distribution.

Instead of creamy cabbage and sliced cheese draped over the proteins, the slaw gets its tang from an apple cider-based vinegar marinade and a mustard dipping sauce that's been prepped to go with the Ugly Drum product. Such is the way Erik Black and Joe Marcos, two cooks who've clocked time in distinguished kitchens including Rustic Canyon, Osteria Mozza, and the erstwhile Spice Table, have presented their pastrami sandwich on a traveling circuit around Mendocino Farms locations. Soft caraway-loaded rye comes from Drago Bakery, rather from a source that's been cranking out crisped loaves on which to pile intense, funky meats for decades. Pastrami sandwich aficionados might deride the sandwich as catering to soft West Coast palates. It's arguably a gold standard sample, albeit a politely mannered one, which to some die-hards, might boast a level of technical precision that in turn lacks a certain ineffable soul.

Fast casual restaurants such as Mendocino Farms and Wexler's are revisiting old world pastrami curing and smoking techniques from start-to-finish without the intervention of any other large-scale purveyors. (As much as we're loathe to admit a lag time of culinary crazes reaching Los Angeles, small-batch, back-to-basics, updated deli does seem to be a trend that was kicked off in other American cities, including New York.) Many more restaurants, ranging from Langer's to the Oinkster, are also making their own famous versions using proprietary blends in collaboration with Burbank-based food supplier RC Provision.

But to get a taste of an iconic union of meat-and-bread that's reflective of our region's taste, however, travel a mere one-and-a-half-miles from Mendocino Farms in West Hollywood to Oki Dog on Fairfax, home of the notorious pastrami-loaded hot dog burrito, or to the Stamos family's Capitol Burger on Pico near Crenshaw. After all, crouching down in front of a grimy window attached to a little vernacular roadside building -- ideally with a weathered vintage atomic age-inspired neon sign standing proudly by -- to order a pile of thin-sliced meat loaded on a French roll, or within the walls of another local chain such as the Hat, is also typical of how L.A. eats its pastrami.

To some non-native eyes, the visible presence of pastrami in unlikely neighborhoods is yet another Southern Californian curiosity. "But even if most Jews left Boyle Heights long ago, their pastrami lives on as their culinary legacy," Dvora Myers wrote in Tablet magazine last year. In the article, Myers traces how targeted policies, most significantly real estate redlining by banks in collaboration with governmental housing agencies, led to a geographic dispersal of white ethnic residents and Boyle Heights' once-robust Jewish community, among other groups. (Internment of Japanese and Japanese Americans during World War II, for example, already had a devastating impact on the area.) This is a familiar story in neighborhoods across Los Angeles, and in all major American cities. This movement went both ways; while Jews decamped from parts of the city, they brought pastrami and their tastes to new swaths of L.A.

And yet spiced and smoked meat managed to transcend ethnicity. In the post-World War II era, factors such as buildings designed to accommodate the automobile, economic prosperity, and increasingly mechanized food supply chain dovetailed to create what became a distinct burger and fast food culture. Southern California's demographics and multicultural palate meant that pastrami started to occupy a prominent place in the mainstream. According to Micah Wexler of Wexler's Deli, Jewish deli food, and different approaches to pastrami in particular, are "all kinds of comfort food from different cultures that have become L.A. comfort food." Its ubiquity, however, doesn't equal knowledge among the general eating public. "Pastrami is always fascinating to me because people love it, but they don't have a clue what it comes from," explained Neil Strawder of Big Mista's BBQ. "All they know is, you slice it, and throw it on my burrito. It's like the meat that's behind bacon that you can use in everything."

Pastrami is not a consistent or cohesive delicacy; save for a generally smoky and peppery flavor profile, many expressions of pastrami have little else in common. "Deli style," for instance, typically refers to meat located at the brisket's navel end, while L.A. fast food style is another (and is more likely to come from much lesser grade beef). Comparing what's served at Wexler's, Mendocino Farms, and Langer's to what Vienna Beef distributes to its restaurant clients is akin to likening Arby's sandwiches to Lawry's hand-carved meats and tableside service. Pastrami, and particularly the French dip sandwich, is arguably a convenient way to mask inferior quality meat that's been injected with polysyllabic components rather than brined and cured for a considerable amount of time with what Johnnie's Pastrami in Culver City declares to be "costly spices."

"I grew up eating pastrami and eating at those kind of places, like Jim's, Pete's Blue Chip," said chef and restaurateur Andre Guerrero, who first encountered it as a child in San Francisco soon after his family immigrated to the U.S. from the Philippines. "After work, my dad would stop at a corner drug store, and we lived on Geary Street right near downtown. There was this old Jewish guy who owned the drug store, and there was a little diner counter. My dad would always buy a slab of it, and he'd bring it home, I remember it was wrapped in white paper. Something about that smell really imprinted in my memory." It was an obsession with pastrami later in life that led him to open the modern-day "slow fast food" joint in an A-frame building that for decades had been a Jim's location in Eagle Rock.

Whether thinly or thickly sliced, on French rolls, rye bread, or atop other foodstuffs, Pastrami's many unconventional uses fit into the region's broader culture. "We're a little more experimental here, so it doesn't faze us to have some chili cheese fries with pastrami on it," Strawder said. "We do stuff like that. We don't put stuff into little boxes." But that doesn't mean pastrami isn't to be taken very seriously. If you ask a self-identified pastrami connoisseur in Los Angeles about the topic, be prepared to tangle with his or her worldview.

Activist Robert Egger's SoCal Return,2014:/living/food//1240.72275 2014-04-25T18:42:40Z 2014-12-18T20:16:51Z The founder of D.C. Central Kitchen has a million-dollar grant from AARP to start a Los Angeles equivalent. We talked with him about charity, the "fiction of the nutritional guidelines," and more. Jessica Ritz Robert Egger


After having "lived long and hard in D.C.," food activist Robert Egger is reconnecting with his Southern California roots. But that doesn't mean he's slowing down. Quite the contrary.

Referencing a certain Seinfeld episode, Egger, a very personable contrarian, explains, "I always say we practice the Seinfeld model. Everything charity did, I did the opposite." At D.C. Central Kitchen, which he founded 25 years ago after a long stint running nightclubs (the band at Egger's D.C. going away tribute party included members of Fugazi, The Cramps, and Thievery Corporation), Egger irreverently -- yet successfully -- created job-training and food access programs using mostly donated surplus food to serve millions of meals to many thousands of residents. And more importantly, he created templates that are replicable in other cities, such as the kitchens that have been established in Seattle, Portland, Phoenix, and Chicago. So, next up: L.A.

Armed with the AARP's first million-dollar startup grant, as well as in partnership with St. Vincent Meals on Wheels, Egger is officially launching L.A. Kitchen as part of a sprawling 56,000 square-foot industrial brick building on Avenue 26 in Lincoln Heights that's about to be transformed into the L.A. Prep food complex. Trim and charismatic, Egger could run "with the hipsters in Echo Park," but the 55-year-old Egger and his wife have settled in quieter Mount Washington while he focuses his latest food activism efforts on seniors and integrating his programs with broader issues related to aging in America.

As part of a military family, he grew up Chula Vista and Capistrano Beach, and remembers his easygoing years spent in Anaheim when the "Tragic Kingdom" felt like an extension of the surrounding area's suburban backyards. These days he's an in-demand speaker at nonprofit management, social entrepreneurship, and community activism conferences around the world.

Egger has joined forces with developers Mott Smith and Brian Albert of Civic Enterprise to be the anchor tenant in L.A. Prep, a facility with 49 commercial kitchens. Food Centricity, a "business accelerator," will also work with L.A. Prep's artisanal food and drink producer tenants, and Civic Enterprise has collaborated with the L.A. County Department of Public Health in order to better position small-scale food entrepreneurs' products in the marketplace vis-à-vis full code compliance.

On Thursday, May 1 at 7:00 p.m., the team is hosting a "Demo-cation" event at the space at 230 W. Avenue 26. Shlemmer Algaze Associates will helm the overall renovation design, with FE Design on board for the kitchen components. Construction is scheduled to be completed early next year.

Egger met up on Avenue 26 to talk about his plans for what he calls "the third variation of my career." He is a man of many opinions, but here are 10 points culled from our conversation.

1. Los Angeles is prime territory for his non- and for-profit community development model, because it's "where the future comes to happen."

You get the food, you get the people, you get the media. I love to tell people that L.A. is where the future comes to happen. It's a creative economy here. People are prone to believe. If you can make it happen, right on.

2. Outdated federal programs explain a lot of what winds up in the mouths of elderly and poor Americans.

If you look at what really drives food in America it's the federal reimbursement. School food, senior meals, prison meals, SNAP. It's all federal money. Ergo, to get reimbursement for Meals on Wheels, there's certain nutritional content of the meals. This was all drawn up by the people who want you to buy their pre-packed meals, or their meat, or their dairy. It's the kind of fiction of the nutritional guidelines.

3. "Charity food" doesn't need to look, feel, and taste the way it typically does.

The problem is the plate. The institutional plate you see where the big piece of meat goes here with the other stuff around it -- that's the problem. The plate is driving our entire structure, so if you get rid of the plate, you're free. So what we're looking at is kind of a bento box model that says, here's how we'll spread the protein out. So instead of a bad piece of chicken, we'll do lots of alternative proteins throughout.

Right now [federal reimbursement programs] contract with what is called the "American menu," which is in effect white people food. I anticipate in 5 - 10 years a huge demographic up-tick in seniors who want vegetarian and vegan meals because they want to be healthier. I see our future as people who are going to want locally sourced, ethnically diverse, nutritionally dense snacks and meals. I look at the food I can get for free or very low cost. If you go to Café Gratitude or Tender Greens, I can produce that meal for poor people. That's what's exciting. I want to take the food truck culture. Between the labor, and the availability of the food here, I can do anything any restaurant can do for literally nothing.

4. Keeping seniors engaged and intergenerational exchange are essential to wider social and economic well-being, and this is a great place to encourage it.

An economic principal that's key is in every city in America is that older people need to stay home, and be as independent as possible, and be productive as long as possible. And that's volunteerism. I think intergenerational [interaction] is a huge part. These are trends of the future. Let's do this now, let's lead here in L.A.

5. The current foodie culture is problematic.

I find the food culture wildly indulgent and somewhat over the top. I wrote a blog piece [asking], Does posting pictures of your food send the wrong message? There are a lot of people around the world who don't have a lot of food. It makes Americans seem oblivious and blind to how other people live. We're so wrapped up in the excitement of our lives and our luck.

Dudes, I get it. Have fun. But be a little more humble in your fortune. Boy, did I hit a nerve on that one.

6. Childhood anti-hunger campaigns are worthy, but also help reinforce the charity and food policy status quo.

It's easier to raise money for kids. Historically, I run a successful program, but for crack addicts, prostitutes, and the mentally ill. All hunger is wrong. You're just picking the lowest fruit, and making it four times harder for the rest of us. Plus strategically kids don't vote. Seniors vote. You want to really change food policy, talk to seniors.

But we did one of the most successful cooked from scratch school meal programs in America. We're doing 5,000 of those a day. What we were able to show is you can produce a locally sourced, cooked from scratch meal -- and kids would eat it. There is a striking similarity between what you do for kids, and what you do for seniors.

7. Egger works from an intensely grassroots up model, challenging assumptions at every level.

I tend to kind of reject normal metrics. In my business, people judge success by how many pounds you move, or how many agencies you serve. And it's like, just because I moved a bunch of food, doesn't mean it was good food? I could've poisoned people!

I was so discouraged when I came in. I first proposed this idea in the 1980s. I didn't want to do it. I ran nightclubs. I said to some of the charities I knew were serving people, "I know you do it well, but here's a way you can feed more people for less money, and if you do job training, restaurants need workers." It was always trying to challenge the status quo but in a way that offered an alternative.

8. Produce should be better processed to maximize use and nutritional value, and minimize waste.

This is about processing. Chopping, dicing, pureeing, and then freezing or refrigerating, or using immediately. With the typical model now, [fresh food] would either go from a farm, to a food bank, to a pantry, and to a home. You have cascading decay all the way down. That takes more than three days, you're starting to lose a huge amount of your stuff. You have a lot of excitement about fruits and vegetables coming into the system, but the system was geared towards stable, non-perishable food. The system doesn't work well for produce. All it can do it shove it out the door as quick as it can. Look, if you process it, you have the ability to stabilize it.

9. Food programs for seniors need to get smarter about present, and prepare for the near future.

We're struggling to feed people, and less than 10% [of eligible seniors are taking advantage] of Meals on Wheels or SNAP benefits. Right around the corner is an army of Baby Boomers who will be wildly ready to take advantage of food stamps and Meals on Wheels, but will be wildly demanding. And meanwhile, you have a system of the food banks that rely on donating products, which is lost profit. So, L.A. Kitchen is coming along, saying, this is a smarter way to look at this.

10. Celebrity Chef José Andrés is one of his longest supporters.

José and I have been friends for 20 years. A friend of mine, Rob Wilder, who's now his partner [in ThinkFoodGroup] but at the time was his boss, had just hired this young Spanish dude. And he was like, "Hey man, you got to meet our new chef." So, José came down, and for some reason he just loved what we did, and we've been friends ever since.

He showed up at my office one day, and announced his plans for World Central Kitchen. I said, "I have D.C. and you have the rest of the world!" That's very José. It's rare that when he gets media attention, he doesn't turn it around and talk about D.C. Kitchen. He's been very generous. He's done everything he can do. We've always had the support of the chefs.

Eat Here Now: Los Angeles Police Revolver and Athletic Club Cafe,2014:/living/food//1240.70192 2014-02-25T23:22:32Z 2014-02-26T03:07:24Z Come Friday afternoon, what's arguably the safest restaurant in Los Angeles will go on hiatus. Jessica Ritz Revolver CafeCome Friday afternoon, what's arguably the safest restaurant in Los Angeles will go on hiatus.

The Los Angeles Police Revolver and Athletic Club Café is an Echo Park institution known for its association with a certain clientele, namely the LAPD officers, staff, and trainees who work up strong appetites while going about their rigorous business at the Police Academy and the Revolver Club nestled inside Elysian Park. (More specifically, the 20-plus acre campus is "about 700 yards due north of Dodger Stadium's left-field barrier," according to a 1969 Los Angeles Times story about a threatened closure of that never came to pass.) The Café itself is open to the general public, and yet has been somewhat of a kept secret and hidden gem. That can't be good for business. "With less Department personnel assigned to the Academy and fewer classes being held, our sales in the Café have significantly dropped," reads a memo posted to the LAPRAAC's website and in the restaurant's window. "The income has not been at a level to sustain the operations."

The Café's closure isn't permanent, however, and business at the daytime eatery (hours: 6 a.m. to 2 p.m., Monday through Friday) is slower due to construction plans. (The decline in qualifying candidates and general LAPD recruitment challenges, however, can't help either.) Included in this renovation spree is an overhaul of the Café. The LAPRAAC and Academy grounds include banquet facilities, shooting ranges, ball fields, athletic rooms and equipment, and a supply and gift shop. The rock garden and grotto crafted by artist Francois Scotti (who designed the waterfall at Clifton's Brookdale Cafeteria downtown) is City of Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monument Number 110, and a magnificent example of cast stone work. Dining at the Café means a background soundtrack of cop chatter, gunfire ("Revolver" isn't part of the name for nothing), and the occasional sound of gentle lapping from the swimming pool nearby. Although this is the restaurant's last week for at least two years, during which the entire rock garden area will be off limits, the Café's catering operations will continue through June.

LAPAA rotating truck lineup will provide access to food after the Café closes. Whether or not mobile kitchens slinging sliders and fusion Asian cuisine will be enthusiastically welcomed remains to be seen. It's hard to replace menu items with monikers not found anywhere else, such as the Rookie Burger (a quarter-pounder with cheese), Hollenbeck huevos rancheros, and the Beck Sandwich (grilled Parmesan sourdough bread stuffed with grilled onions, grilled chicken, sun dried tomatoes, melted mozzarella, and Caesar dressing), all priced quite fairly.

The memorabilia-filled Revolver Café (if those billy clubs could talk) is essentially a coffee shop grafted onto a 1930s Spanish Colonial Revival institutional building, and the mid-century vernacular richness is responsible for much of its character. It would be a shame if the swaths of faux-wood grain Formica laminate, stainless steel beams, the soffit-mounted stainless display cases that flank the kitchen pass, terrazzo skirting around the three islands of counter seating, floor-mounted counter chairs, interior and exterior rock-clad walls, and other vintage finishes and equipment were to be replaced with generic new off-the-shelf materials. While we can celebrate some recent historic preservation victories related to buildings of this general style and type -- of which greater Los Angeles used to boast hundreds, and thankfully still has some outstanding remaining ones -- we've already lost enough Googie and mid-century coffee shop treasures.

LAPRAACThe LAPRAAC was formed in 1925 by local law enforcement officers who wanted to establish a private shooting and recreation facility for officers and their families. During the following years, the LAPRAAC and the newly formed Los Angeles Police Academy came to share the tremendous resource that was the Elysian Park property leased from the Recreation and Parks Department. The amount of history here and its ongoing, complex ripple effects is staggering. For starters, this was the site of the shooting range when Los Angeles hosted the 1932 Olympic games, and the Academy building itself was originally a dormitory at the Olympic Village in Baldwin Hills until it was donated to the police department. Off-duty officers personally moved and rebuilt the structure in Elysian Park. Given the time during which these events unfolded and the public nature of the projects, the WPA later played a role the expansion of the grounds and buildings.

The names of officers and LAPD Chiefs who have downed platters of tri-tip and artery-clogging breakfast combos are sure to elicit a range of responses as vast and varied as the territory the Los Angeles Police Department protects and serves. And placing the City and Department officials inscribed on a 1937 cornerstone plaque into deeper context would be a much better experience if one's dining companion were, say, Joe Domanick. The fact that the Revolver Café was the site of a 1995 benefit for Laurence M. Powell, one the officers convicted in the federal trial of the Rodney King case, might be reason enough for some people to never step foot in the joint.

Revolver CafeTo get a closer look at the Revolver Café's facility, food, and dedicated staff, watch this 2011 behind-the-scenes tour from dining duo 2 Hungry Cops. (By the way, why are these LAPD retirees not food media stars? Their work would benefit from tighter editing, but c'mon. They're awesome. Someone please give them a real show already.) If nothing else, Steve Clark and Dan Campbell's love of this "top cop eating spot" will send you heading to Elysian Park before the week's end. It's power lunch intrigue of an entire different sort than what's typically associated with this town.

The restaurant's ongoing quality "says something about tradition, which is a big part of what the LAPD is all about," Sergeant Clark comments following their nostalgia-fueled meal. "It's good to see that it's still in the café."

"Cops don't like change, but when it comes to food, we don't mind," Sergeant Campbell chimes in. LAPD Academy in-training cadets, staff, and established officers -- as well as lay folks who've enjoyed the Revolver Café hospitality over the years -- will hopefully approve of whatever transformations are revealed when the Revolver Café reopens sometime in 2016.

To Market, To Market, We...Don't Go: L.A.'s Best Farm-to-Home E-Grocers,2014:/living/food//1240.69073 2014-01-22T19:52:39Z 2014-01-22T21:23:51Z We've noticed a growing number of businesses aimed at discerning farmers' market types who aren't interested in getting all their food via a major corporation, but have limited time and some extra cash. Jessica Ritz Summerland LAWhen FreshDirect began delivering a huge selection of groceries directly to Manhattan residences and offices almost 12 years ago, the online service gave picky New Yorkers much to celebrate. (As well as plenty to be concerned about.) Now the West Coast has a similar option, thanks to a Seattle-based behemoth, but local food entrepreneurs have tapped into another particular niche.



Good Eggs

Sign up fee: None

Out of the Box Collective

Delivery areas: Ranges from Santa Monica to Thousand Oaks to Pasadena

Venice Merchant

Sign up fee: $20 membership fee
Delivery areas: Venice, Topanga, and Santa Monica coming soon

Summerland LA

Sign up fee: None
Delivery fee: None

Red Bread

Sign up fee: None
Delivery fee: Minimum $55 order

FarmBox L.A.

Sign up fee: None
Delivery fee: $4.95 for orders under $50

Grab a Pint: Alta Dena Dairy Drive-Thrus,2013:/living/food//1240.67011 2013-11-20T23:30:29Z 2013-11-20T23:30:00Z If you lived in Los Angeles County during the 1960s through the 1980s, you most likely knew of a place to stop for milk and other provisions, all taken care of within the comfort of your own car. Chances are, it was associated with Alta Dena Dairy. Jessica Ritz Some car-centric businesses and amenities in Los Angeles have become more prominent over the years, while others fade into the blur of the drive-by whirlwind landscape. Most Angelenos know where their closest In-N-Out is located, especially given the local chain's ongoing growth. But do you know where your nearest drive-through dairy store is?

If you lived in Los Angeles County during the 1960s through the 1980s, you most likely knew of a place to stop for milk and other provisions, all taken care of within the comfort of your own car. Chances are, it was associated with Alta Dena Dairy. In today's Los Angeles, dozens of these heavily weathered convenience stores still have loose ties to the company founded by the Stueve brothers from Missouri in 1945. Soon after the siblings -- three out of a family of 18 children -- got into business with their one wagon and 61 cows in Monrovia, home delivery was becoming outmoded. It was time for a shift in retailing to better suit the way people lived in Southern California.

]]> In-N-Out Burger's first drive-through opened in the late 1940s and helped test the waters of this new set-up. Alta Dena Dairy's initial experiment in 1951 also proved successful. As co-founder/owner Harold Stueve's daughter Nancy Keefe told the Los Angeles Times in his 2006 obituary, "My dad saw that in California, cars were becoming more and more important. He thought it would be a good service to give people a place to get their basics without having to get out of their cars." This type of store was referred to as a "cash and carry."

As the company grew to become one the world's largest dairy producers, Harold Stueve embraced the role of raw milk activist. He was quick to find clever loopholes in the anti-raw milk regulatory environment, and advocated for the establishment of the Los Angeles County Medical Milk Commission, which the County assumed oversight of in 1967. In 1969, Kenneth Hahn helped lead the charge among the County Supervisors to support efforts by the County Health Department to ban the sale of unpasteurized products. "Someone is determined to get rid of raw milk," Stueve, who also served as Mayor of Monrovia and was deeply enmeshed in dairy politics at the state and county levels, told the Times. Mirroring controversies that continue to this day, the paper noted that Stueve, who was briefly arrested on contempt of court over the issue, "is opposed to pasteurization because it causes milk to 'lose almost all of the enzymes.'"

The State Board of Public Health ruled the County could enforce a ban based on evidence of contamination and human illness as a result of tainted products, a directive that was overturned by the Superior Court, citing lack of evidence connecting Alta Dena Dairy raw milk to pathogens or illness. (In the early 1970s, Trader Joe's placed advertisements in the Times touting Alta Dena Dairy as "the only dairy in California which is certified to make raw milk.") But the recalls and lawsuits continued; the fallout from a 1985 listeriosis outbreak caused by contaminated cheese produced in California, for instance, lingered until Alta Dena was cleared of liability four years later. Stueve spent millions of his own fortune on political lobbying and lawsuits, leading him to bankruptcy in the 1990s.

Alta Dena wasn't the only company to offer drive-through convenience stores, but it managed to cover a significant amount of turf. Much like its competitors' retail operations, the shops began as outposts located near pastureland that comprised L.A. County's remarkably productive dairy industry, and gradually became integrated into the new residential and commercial clusters that sprang up during L.A.'s twentieth century boom periods. (While affiliated with certain dairy companies, drive-thru dairy stores were later independently owned and operated, with over 80 Alta Dena-associated drive-thrus still remaining in 2006, according to the Times.)

Unlike some more attention-getting, outlandish examples of what David Gebhard termed "programmatic architecture" and Jim Heimann documented in California Crazy and Beyond: Roadside Vernacular Architecture, form followed function at the dairy outlets. Alta Dena drive-thru dairies weren't fashioned in the shape of milk cartons, but instead were generally simple structures, typically with open sides designed for easy customer access, and often capped with a low-pitched roof with deep eaves. Some locations played with the form a bit.

Other examples of this building type, however, made a stronger effort to grab the attention of passersby. Driftyland Dairy-Port in El Monte was built in 1961 and is listed on the California Register of Historical Resources, thanks to its intact Googie style and Space Age theme design elements.

By 1989, when Alta Dena Dairy employed over 70 family members, the bottling operation and a portion of the Stueve family's herds were sold to a European corporation. (It had relocated from Monrovia to the City of Industry decades prior.) For a period following the sale, the conglomerate allowed Harold to keep raw milk in the marketplace by creating a new label, Stueve's Natural. The family's Chino farmland and holdings were eventually sold in the 1990s, raw milk production and sales ceased, and Dallas-based Dean Foods now owns Alta Dena Dairy.

Signs and evidence of the local dairy industry are still all over Los Angeles. Check your grocery store aisle for Broguiere's Farm Fresh Dairy milk -- or better yet during this time of year, its eggnog -- still sold in glass bottles. And when you see a car-accessible convenience shop that resembles a large kiosk that may have seen shinier days, it might be a reminder of the dozens of drive-thru milk stores that dotted the region, when we didn't need to buy raw milk at the farmers' market to know where our dairy came from.


Green, Emily, "The Great Stueve Wars," Los Angeles Times, August 2, 2000, 3.

Grimes, Teresa, Driftyland Dairy-Port nomination to the California Register of Historical Resources, 2007.

Nelson, Valerie, "Harold Stueve, 88; Farmer Founded Alta Dena Dairy With 2 Brothers in 1945," Los Angeles Times, August 10, 2006, B11.

"Ban on Sale of Raw Milk Lifted After Court Refuses Injunction: Judge Says Evidence Fails to Support State and County Charges That Injurious Organisms Are Present in Product," Los Angeles Times, March 25, 1969, C1.

The SoCal Roots Of Panda Express,2013:/living/food//1240.66643 2013-11-13T14:19:21Z 2013-11-14T03:32:40Z The international chain appeared in a time and place where mainstream audiences were ready to explore ... just a little. Jessica Ritz Owner Andrew Cherng in the 1980s







]]> How and why did you select the original Panda Inn location?

That was the location we could afford.

How big was it?

The original restaurant was about 3,500 square feet.

Was that a daunting amount of space?

No, it's not that big for a restaurant.

How was it different from other Chinese restaurants at the time?



Not particularly. There were enough Chinese restaurants then already.

Was most of your original clientele familiar with Chinese food?

At that time? No, not very well.

Were there certain dishes people responded to?


Did you adapt any dishes to American palate?


So you served the food your family loved.

Yeah, that we thought was good.








I would say so. Very much so.

How has being an entrepreneur here impacted the business?






What are some of your other favorite local restaurants?




What market would you really love to reach?


St. Vincent Court's Strange Past and Unsure Future,2013:/socal/food//1240.57465 2013-03-12T01:12:15Z 2013-03-13T23:06:49Z The outdoor tables dotting St. Vincent Court downtown have been ordered removed. Doing so ignores the small square's rich L.A. history. Jessica Ritz Image via Wikimedia CommonsLong after the streetcars stopped running along Seventh Street and the department stores lost their luster in the core of downtown, but years before this stretch just west of Broadway became host to a freshly buzzing restaurant and bar scene, a discrete and distinctive pocket of the city evolved at its own pace.

Driving along Seventh Street between Hill and Broadway, the break between the solid building frontage on the north side of the street is easy to miss. But as a pedestrian, it's impossible to pass St. Vincent Court without popping in through the breezeway. In its current incarnation, a look around St. Vincent Court might very well have turned into sitting down for a serious meal, most likely one involving hearty portions of grilled meats, gyros, and traditional Mediterranean and Middle Eastern appetizers. Kebab spits had become the main attraction on what was the site of the first college in L.A.

The outdoor seating that's a major part of the alleyway's atmosphere and character, however, violates city code. And because of ongoing disputes with its neighbor, the iconic Los Angeles Theatre, the city cracked down on illegal al fresco dining when the theater's owners filed a complaint claiming that the tables and chairs block access to the venue. While this feature of St. Vincent is relatively new vis-à-vis the alleyway's overall history, it's largely to thank for the courtyard's new lease on life. But once again the future of St. Vincent is in flux.

Image by Flickr user Doc_BrownMerchant and banker (and USC co-founder) O.W. Childs donated a portion of the land that he had received from the City of Los Angeles in exchange for his extending the irrigation ditch to St. Vincent's College. On a parcel between Broadway and Olive, and Sixth and Eighth Streets, the first post-high school educational institution in Los Angeles began construction on its first building in 1867, where it remained until moving further south during the real estate boom of the 1880s. (After a series of mergers, St. Vincent's eventually became Loyola Marymount University in Westchester.)

Then came Arthur Letts, who founded the Broadway department store in 1898. When Letts opened the first Bullocks location at the northwest corner of Seventh and Broadway in March 1907, it was a bold retail gesture in an increasingly confident city. Letts had picked up a location held by Express newspaper publisher and land owner Edwin T. Earl; streetcars rumbled by constantly on both Broadway and Seventh, foot (and horse) traffic was heavy, but other aspiring retailers had given up. Here Letts trusted and financed John G. Bullock, a longtime Broadway employee, to spearhead an unprecedented upscale retail effort that would catalyze development in the area.

St. Vincent Place, dedicated in 1907, proved to be a convenient space for shuffling goods throughout the growing retail behemoth. Bridge of Sighs-like walkways were also constructed in the airspace above.

Image courtesy USC Digital LibraryBut the biggest identity shift came in 1957, when plans were put in place to spruce up the utilitarian alley with a quaint (or in retrospect, corny) paintings, plants, and awnings. New businesses were brought in, with Bullocks maintaining managerial oversight. St. Vincent Place was renamed St. Vincent Court, which is now California State Landmark #567.

The renovation that had been announced in 1956 followed shortly thereafter. New businesses moving into the court included Broadway Flowers, which had other locations around the city and in downtown. Ambrose Pasquini set up the neighborhood's first espresso bar when Bulloc's invited him in the early 1960s to join the social and retail scene, which was an odd combination of genuine urban grit paired with classic Hollywood style set building and illusion.

Ambrose Pasquini's son, Guy, recalls a newsstand and bookstore among the Pasquini's Espresso Bar's few neighbors. (The espresso machine distribution and repair company's headquarters are located just west of downtown on Olympic in Pico-Union.) Pasquini's bar remained until Bullocks closed. Additional modifications followed. Tony Reveles, an Irish-Mexican-American artist from Los Angeles who had assisted David Alfaro Siqueiros when the famed muralist came to Los Angeles, added another mural in 1974. (Ambrose Pasquini claims this was a result of his urging management to upgrade the place a little.)

This plan sounds deeply familiar in the context of Los Angeles. Build out a retro, quasi-European style kitschy streetscape tucked within the cavity of a dense downtown building cluster, and they will come. Call it a very rudimentary, quaint version of Rick Caruso's retail template on a much smaller, more modest scale.

Downtown changed dramatically as the city's sprawl increased and the streetcar system met its final demise. Businesses came and went. By the 1980s St. Vincent Court struggled to hold onto its charm. The LA Times noted the "regulars speaking Italian hanging out and there's a trompe l'oeil painting of Italian apartment buildings across the alley. The espresso and cappuccino are about the best in town" at Pasquini's Espresso Bar. Malcolm Boyd noted in May 1982, "The alleyway here, with its painted doorways and windows that suggest a facsimile of counterparts in Venice or Florence, is one of the most romantic spots in the city." Boyd didn't miss a chance for a cappuccino (price tag: $1).

The original Bullocks shuttering in 1983 meant an abrupt transition from one chapter to another in the block's history. Los Angeles United Investment Company spearheaded the adaptive reuse of a portion of the original Bullocks structures to create St. Vincent's Jewelry Center. In December of that year, the complex became the main seat of the area's wholesale and retail jewelry transactions. As the professional demographics gradually shifted, restaurant tenants showed up, eager to cater to a new largely Middle Eastern clientele.

New business owners in the court continue bring their own visions of the place. Kacin Celik, chef and owner of the Tulip Café, has his own distinct history in downtown L.A. A native of Turkey, Celik owned an Orange Julius outpost on West Seventh Street. When he opened up shop in the court a few years ago, Celik proposed adding more false fronts on the alley building façades.

Celik serves everything from a vegan Mediterranean sampler to Iskender kebab to chicken and beef kofte towards the north end of the alley near where the alley terminates at the contested south elevation of the Los Angeles Theatre. "If I made a difference, that's good," Celik says. "I'm happy."

These days in particular, however, Celik and other St. Vincent's tenants have fewer reasons to be upbeat, especially since the vast majority of their customers chose to eat and check out the scene outside -- indoor tables probably won't keep them in business.

Fellow St. Vincent Court neighbors include restaurants such as St. Vincent Deli, a pizza joint, the Sevan Garden kebab house, a barber shop, a French-inspired café, and a shoe shine station (now prohibited under the current crackdown). The series of ersatz façades and discreet entrances into the Jewelry Center lining the herringbone brick alleyway showcase Greek, Chinese, Italian, British, and French motifs. There's even a replica of the Statue of Liberty. It's a stunning microcosm of ersatz, egalitarian Los Angeles eclecticism where you can eat really, really well on the cheap.

If there's one constant of St. Vincent's Court history, it's this place's ability to reinvent itself, much like the institutions and city it's been a part of for over 100 years. Hopefully this flexibility and resilience will be of use as St. Vincent's and the Los Angeles Theatre are caught in regrettable battle of competing interests between two signature landmarks of downtown Los Angeles.


Apple Pie a la Mode Sundae,2012:/socal/food//1240.51371 2012-10-22T20:24:42Z 2012-10-24T22:39:45Z We're loving this take on pie a la mode: all the good stuff, none of the crust. Jessica Ritz Photo by Arnold InuyakiSweet Rose Creamery's Shiho Yoshikawa has what may be the coolest, most enviable job title on the planet: Ice Cream Chef.

She shared with us one of her favorite seasonal recipes, a play on apple pie a la mode that's a bit involved at the outside but worth every minute of preparation, especially if double-crust isn't your favorite type of pie. Whip up a batch and read all about apples as art over on Artbound: a perfectly seasonal afternoon combo.

Apple Pie Ice Cream
Makes about 1 quart
Apple pie puree:
1.5 lb mixed apples
¼ cup brown sugar
2 teaspoons cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground ginger
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3 tablespoon butter

Preheat the oven on to 375ºF.

Peel skin and cut into quarters. Core each apple. Cut each piece crosswise, about 1/4" thickness. Toss apples with lemon juice, then sugar and spices. Place the apple mixture into oven safe baking dish, dot butter all over on top, then seal it tightly with foil.

Bake for 40 minutes, then stir and bake for another 40 minutes until it's juicy and apples are soft.

When apples are done and while it is hot (be careful not to burn your hands), puree in the food processor or blender until smooth.

Chill over ice bath.

Ice cream base
1 ¾ cup milk
¾ cup cream
¼ cup sugar
3 egg yolks

Bring milk and cream to scald. Meanwhile, whisk together sugar and yolk to pale creamy color in a bowl. Slowly pour scalded milk into a sugar yolk mixture while whisking. Put the mixture back into the pot.

Cook over low medium heat, bringing the custard to 165º F. Strain and cool over ice bath.

2 cups apple pie puree
2 cups ice cream base
½ tablespoon vanilla extract
pinch salt

Mix well in a bowl. Chill overnight. Next morning, churn it according to your ice cream maker.

Salty pecan crumble
¼ cup butter
2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons sugar
½ cup flour
1/3 cup pecans
½ teaspoon salt

Paddle butter, sugar and flour until it almost comes together. Add rest of ingredients and mix well. Make a block of dough, wrap it and chill at least 3 hours or overnight.

The next day, crumble the dough onto a parchment lined sheet. Bake at 325º F for 30 minutes, or until golden brown. Let cool. Alternately, you can time this step so to serve hot over the ice cream pie, too.

Cinnamon Sauce
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon all purpose flour
1/3 cup water
1 tablespoon butter
½ teaspoon cinnamon

In a saucepan, whisk brown sugar and flour together. Slowly whisk in the water over medium high heat, and bring mixture to a boil. Add butter to melt and bring it back on boil, and keep boiling for 1 minute. Remove from heat, and whisk in ground cinnamon.

Place a dish in a freezer for 5 minutes.
Scoop apple pie ice cream into the chilled dish.
Drizzle hot cinnamon sauce over the ice cream
Top it with the crumble and freshly whipped cream.


Experimental Apples of Jessica Rath,2011:/arts/artbound//1834.51362 2012-10-22T08:00:00Z 2012-11-14T19:20:41Z L.A. based artist Jessica Rath speaks about what the fruit has to teach us about current food debates, diversity, and our relationship to nature and art. Jessica Ritz While rushing between college Halloween parties during a particularly cold late October New England night, I ran into a friend dressed as a witch. Along with the dramatic black dress, hat, stellar makeup and the rest, her primary prop was a huge shiny red apple that she creepily cradled in her hand. This small detail sold the entire getup. "That's fake, right?" I asked. "Nope, it's a Rome," she answered.







mode sundae


Apple Shadow (clone water sprout).






So what is it about apples?



Apple Shadow (clone columnar with early pubescence).

What's happening to orchards?





Apple Shadow (clone weeping with resistance).




When did you decide to use two media for this project?



Apple Shadow (sisters weeping).





Are you sick of apples?!


Yellow Bellflower.



Cooks County's Corn Soup,2012:/socal/food//1240.47323 2012-06-19T20:00:37Z 2012-06-21T20:21:13Z Warm yourself up with some corn soup from Cooks County. Jessica Ritz


- 8 ears of white corn, shucked
- 12 cups water
- ¼ cup olive oil
- 3 leeks, medium size, washed and sliced
- 1 yellow onion, diced
- 2 celery ribs, diced
- 1 tablespoon of fresh thyme leaves
- 8 cups of corn stock
- 1 jalapeno, roasted
- ½ cup cilantro, chopped, including stems, plus a little extra for garnish
- 1 tablespoon of kosher salt
- 1 bay leaf


Cut the corn off of the cobs and reserve. Place the cobs in a large pot, cover with the water and simmer for 45 minutes, then strain, reserving the corn stock and discarding the cobs. In a separate pot, sweat the leeks, onion and celery with the thyme until soft. Add the reserved corn, cilantro and jalapeno, stir to combine, then pour over the corn stock. Season with the salt, add the bay leaf and simmer until the corn is tender.

Purée the soup in a high-speed blender. After it is all puréed, adjust thickness and seasoning. If you like, add more fresh cilantro during this step for a brighter more pronounced flavor. For a silkier soup, strain through a fine mesh strainer (we do not).

Reheat the soup, portion in individual bowls and garnish with avocado and additional
cilantro sprigs.

Cooks County
8009 Beverly Boulevard
(323) 653-8009

Photo of corn stalks by Flickr user SomeHoosier.


A Trip to the Tapia Bros. Farm Stand,2012:/socal/food//1240.47307 2012-06-19T17:00:10Z 2012-06-20T06:50:33Z A native Angeleno revisits the charms of Encino's classic Tapia Bros. Farm Stand. Jessica Ritz Even though growing up in Los Angeles meant better access to high quality produce than most parts of the country, the sense memory of certain fresh tomatoes and corn on a summer afternoon stands out. I must have been around nine-years-old when my best friend's father, an Italian-American Bronx native who would go out of his way for outstanding food, took us to a little stand in the San Fernando Valley.

Everything about this excursion was different. Being Hollywood-area bound, we hardly went to the Valley for much of anything, let alone vegetables. And while our destination wasn't typical for the area, the charmingly crude set-up didn't exactly fit my image of a pastoral farm either. Additional cognitive dissonance stepped in, too. Up until then, I primarily associated Hayvenhurst with the Jackson family home location, and not because I was actually ever a guest there. Sometimes odd facts stick in the mind of us native Angelenos, I guess.

Just before we got back into the car to head over the hill, I was handed a sliced tomato under a canopy surrounded by crates of produce and cooped up chickens in the shadow of the 101. It tasted brighter and more robust than anything of its kind I'd ever had. We twisted through Laurel Canyon back to my friend's house, where her folks boiled ears of corn we'd picked up, and we all feasted on the firm kernels that burst with sweetness of the season. Save for Big Sticks, I'd experienced a new height of summer food nirvana.

The traffic on the freeway has gotten worse, but that outing we made almost thirty years ago is still possible today.

The Tapia Bros. Farm at the intersection of Hayvenhurst and Burbank remains an anachronism, both a handy place to pick up some local produce and a chance to witness a hint of the San Fernando Valley's former agricultural life. Farm stands aren't fussed over in most parts of the country -- for decades they were a common part of the landscape here, too. Several other urban farms and roadside stands survived encroaching development in the western San Fernando Valley through the late 1980s. And yet in a contemporary twist, the new Altadena Urban Farmers' Market provides a much-needed venue for city growers to sell their backyard yields.

Even though Tapia Bros. stand didn't settle into its current site across from the Sepulveda Basin Recreation Area until 1984 -- when the family took over what had been the last of four Maria's Corn Stand locations ("leaving behind a small cadre of sad, devoted customers," the Los Angeles Times wrote in December, 1983) and the land that Marguerite Nunn's grandfather started farming in the early 1920s -- dates almost don't matter. The makeshift structures, well-worn hand painted signs, open space, animals and beat-up farm equipment might be a form of set decoration, but it still serves as a reminder of what preceded the expansive miles of wide commercial concrete boulevards and low-density residential tracts that characterize the Valley.

The Tapia Bros. Farm dabbles in what third-generation farmer Tom Tapia calls "agro-tainment" while maintaining a dogged dedication to keeping up a family business. You can pick up strawberries, tomatoes and other freshly picked crops during the summer. Come back a few months later and the lot will be full of pumpkins, Christmas trees, corn mazes or hay rides, used to bolster seasonal and holiday spirits.

Luckily for the Tapias, one thing that has changed over the years is an increased awareness and demand for locally-produced food. Tapia Bros. Farm does not, however, exclusively grow organically. "Corn unfortunately has worms," Tapia explains about the challenges of producing their signature crop. (It should be noted that there's no relation to the Tapia Brothers Company, a large food service distributor. "People see their big trucks out on the highway and ask, 'They're yours?' 'We wish,'" Tom Tapia jokes.)

Although Tom works with his brother, Felix, Jr., Tapia Bros. is in reality an extended family operation that began with their grandfather a bit further north nearly 80 years ago. Crops are grown on approximately 100 acres in the Sepulveda Dam Flood Control Basin leased from the Army Corps of Engineers -- it was closer to 200 acres when the Tapias bought the lease from Nunn in 1983 -- with the main plot located across the street from the retail stand. Goats and rabbits hang out by the smaller demonstration garden, which can be wandered through without having to cross the busy street.

The Encino stand offers produce from other farms, as well as harvests brought in from the family's land in the Lancaster area. During the downtime when the stand closes in winter, Tapia Bros. sees a flurry of activity in late March when Tomatomania's massive seed sale and festival descends on Hayvenhurst Avenue.

As with any farming business, there's no resting easy, especially when the Tapias have to deal with "growing competition from big box stores." So around this time of year when they're better equipped to sell what they grow, Tapia Bros. vendor booths start showing up the Thousand Oaks, Agoura, Valencia, Canoga Park, Antelope Valley, Sherman Oaks and Beverly Hills farmers' markets. "We try not to go too far," Tapia says. It's a good marketing tool. "A lot of people don't realize we're here. It's been working out really well."

Tapia Bros. Farm Stand
5251 Hayvenhurst Avenue, Encino
(818) 905-6155

Photos by Jessica Ritz


Closed on Mondays' Saucy Meatbealls on Garlic Toast,2012:/socal/food//1240.46399 2012-05-30T19:41:20Z 2012-06-05T19:38:48Z On the occasional Monday, Canelé in Atwater Village is jam-packed with guests eating down-home, feel-good food. And we have one of those beloved recipes here. Jessica Ritz When a beloved neighborhood restaurant is full and humming at top volume by 5:30 p.m., chances are it's on a weekend, or maybe a Thursday. On the occasional Monday, however, not only is Canelé in Atwater Village doing business on the day when the restaurant is usually shuttered, but it's jam-packed with customers. And everyone -- including many young families at that hour -- is there because of Closed on Mondays, a dinner series organized by three women who resourcefully harness goodwill, strong appetites and available resources to help aid local grassroots food organizations.







Closed on Mondays' Saucy Meatballs on Garlic Toast
Serves: 10-12

For the meatballs:
4 pounds beef chuck or ground beef
3 cups fresh bread crumbs (see instructions below)
1/2 cup cream
4 egg yolks
4 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoon ground black pepper
2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 cup minced yellow onion
1 1/2 cups shredded Parmesan



For the sauce:
1/4 cup olive oil
2 arbol chilies
8 garlic cloves
2 28-ounce cans whole tomatoes passed through a food mill
3 cups beef or veal stock
chunk of Parmesan rind


To serve:

Photos by Amy Tierney.
