Vol. 8
This should have been a gratingly chipper, New Year-themed issue with thoughts of optimism and rebirth. Given the absolute horror show that has been January 2025, my thoughts have been elsewhere, especially with my close friend of 20 years who recently died from cancer. If you are feeling overwhelmed, helpless, or exasperated, know that you are not alone.
It has been a heartbreaking start to the year in my beloved city of Los Angeles. While I am unscathed by the fires and my people are safe, the trauma of watching your city burn to ashes in real time while scrambling to pack your most precious belongings lingers. The loss is immeasurable. Altadena and the Pacific Palisades have essentially been wiped off the map, displacing thousands and scarring generations. Cherished homes, schools, and community institutions gone in the blink of an eye. Wildlife has yet again seen the destruction of their already shrinking habitats.
The city’s mutual aid response to the fires was so overwhelming that centers were overflowing with physical donations. As with many natural disasters, though, the immediate urge to help can dwindle over time. After the press conferences have ended and the toxic ash swept away by rain, Angelenos will still need help in the months and years ahead. Rebuilding will be a marathon, an ultramarathon.
When disaster strikes, the restaurant and hospitality industry is always among the first to respond (after the actual first responders, of course). Globally, World Central Kitchen is a shining example of this. Restaurants are the backbone of any community, and chefs, owners, and generous workers are always first to volunteer their time, physical labor, and material goods towards relief efforts. There has been no shortage of beautiful mutual aid responses from the industry, and I’d like to highlight one close to home.
Lien Ta, owner of my favorite local haunt Here’s Looking At You, has always been a champion of the LA hospitality industry (if you’ve never heard of Regarding Her, get familiar). She immediately organized a waffle brunch fundraiser and collected children’s books and art supplies. She’s taken over $9,000 in donations to purchase gift cards to restaurants, cafes, and independent shops all over the city. She tracked down current locations of those affected by the fires and paired them with gift cards to local businesses in their area, according to their specific needs, all while running a popular restaurant and closing another. She emphasized that putting dollars directly back into the local economy not only benefits the recipients of the gift cards, but the small businesses that desperately need a boost as well. Lien is a paragon of the importance of showing up for your community, because who else will if not you?
How you can help:
Donate to LA Community Meals (support restaurants supporting the community)
Last summer I learned that giant sequoia trees cannot reproduce without fire - only the heat of the flames causes their cones to open and release seeds. Amidst the devastation of one city, the rapid collapse of democracy, and disregard for human lives (be they pregnant, transgender, or lacking certain documents), I cling to this knowledge of fire signaling rebirth for the ancient sequoias. Take care of yourself and your mental health, but know that the time for revolution is on the horizon. Do not let the horrors of January drive us to steel ourselves against one another. May the embers of the extinguished fires kindle something radical inside us, something fierce and wild and tender. The only way through tragedy, adversity, and grief is through community. Look for the helpers. They might even be wearing an apron.
xo