When much of Altadena burned in January, it affected not just the city’s homes but also its businesses. Popular local shops went up in flames just like everything else, and work-from-home artisans — displaced from not just their residences but also their work spaces and all the materials contained within — were suddenly without a place to live or a place to work.
On the Westside, the Palisades fire, also in January, tore through Pacific Palisades and Malibu, forever changing the fabric of these tight-knit neighborhoods and small businesses. Although rebuilding efforts are underway, progress and construction are expected to take several years as residents and business owners deal with permit approval, insurance hindrances and inflation.
Even now, local businesses that remain have struggled to regain a foothold.
With the giving spirit in mind this holiday season, we’ve put together this list of gifts from Altadena, Pacific Palisades and Malibu businesses, all of whom were affected in some way by the Eaton and Palisades fires. Purchase one of these items and you’ll spread good cheer (and good money) around areas that still need all the help they can get.
If you make a purchase using some of our links, the L.A. Times may be compensated. Prices and availability of items and experiences in the Gift Guide and on latimes.com are subject to change.
Exactly a year after the Eaton fire broke out, musicians are banding together once more for an upcoming benefit show, called A Concert for Altadena.
As a way to both raise funds and bring the community together, the night is set to include performances from musicians like Jackson Browne, Dawes & Friends, Aloe Blacc, Jenny Lewis, Everclear, Stephen Stills, Mandy Moore, Judith Hill, Brad Paisley, Ozomatli, Brandon Flowers of the Killers and more.
Many of the featured acts have ties to Los Angeles and Altadena specifically, like Dawes, an indie band from Altadena who notably sang a lively rendition of “I Love L.A.” at this year’s Grammys ceremony. Moore, who is also performing, similarly lost their homes in the fire.
“I’ve seen firsthand how music can mobilize people for good. This concert brings together artists, fans, and neighbors for something bigger than all of us — recovery, hope, and rebuilding lives,” said Grammy winner Eric Krasno. The guitarist, who also lived in Altadena, helped organize the event and is set to perform.
Even behind the scenes, people like Kevin Lyman, who founded the Vans Warped Tour and is a longtime Altadena resident, is working as the event’s lead producer.
“Music has always been a force for community. With this event, we’re not just putting on a show — we’re helping Altadena rebuild homes, restore businesses, and heal hearts. This night is about unity and purpose,” said Lyman.
All of the proceeds from the show will go to the Pasadena Community Foundation’s Eaton Fire Relief & Recovery Fund, which helps provide resources to families impacted, and the Altadena Builds Back Foundation, which focuses on the long-term recovery of housing in the neighborhood.
On the night of September 24, 2025, Hollis Frazier-Herndon performed an acoustic rendition of his song “Eldest Child” for a sold-out crowd at USC’s Shrine Auditorium. During his croon of the lyrics, “Eldest child, eldest child, I know your momma and your daddy so goddamn proud. They don’t know me, no. They don’t know me now,” the artist known as 2hollis went from a fractured growl to a sweet silky falsetto to a full collapse into tears.
It was a moment of raw catharsis as well as a culmination. During a pre-show interview backstage, Hollis revealed the hidden meaning behind the lyrics. He said the figurative “momma and daddy” are actually his fans, whose expectations he’s glad he’s fulfilled, even though they “don’t actually know each other” in real life. Thus, a sold-out crowd enthusiastically singing back at him evoked an emotional release. In tandem with that though, is the fact that this was 2hollis’ first show in his hometown since his Altadena childhood house burned down in the January 2025 fires. The embrace from his extended community after he persevered through that tragedy and continued to ascend to musical stardom was palpable.
“I’m at a place now where I feel like, in a way, it’s sort of a phoenix situation,” Hollis said about his post-fire rise from the ashes. “The whole town burned down. It was terrible and insane. But it weirdly felt like that needed to happen [to make the new album what it is]. I don’t know, it’s hard seeing somewhere you grew up just be a deserted place.”
On the day before the release of his fourth album, “star,” in April, 2hollis posted a picture of a burnt-edged tarot card with the same title. He added a message explaining that the star card was the only thing he and his mother found intact when they returned to Altadena to assess the damage. It was also later reported by 032c Magazine that atop a tall hill behind Hollis’ family property existed a wooden and metal star statue filled with lightbulbs that would glow at night. That star, which Hollis and his childhood friends would hike up to, also burned. The album “star,” 2hollis’ best version of his signature crystalline hardstyle EDM, meets grimy rage trap, meets velvet emo pop punk, emerged directly and impactfully from the remains of the roaring flames.
At the end of the full throttle album opener “flash,” Hollis said he added recorded sounds of the wind chimes from his Altadena home porch, triggered by the Santa Ana winds in the lead up to the fire. You can also hear faint gusts and flame sounds emerge sparsely throughout the project. He let the weather itself dictate the type of immersive experience the album could be, even as it also chronicles his layered chase for notoriety and glory.
“There are a lot of self-reflective moments, and it is very personal and emotional, but it’s also like one big party,” he explained. “I feel like, in a f—ed up kind of way, that’s what a fire is, too. It’s so big and full of visceral anger and emotion and almost a sad kind of wave. But then, also, it’s lit.”
2hollis is a visual thinker, thus he envisions scenes and uses optical inspiration to craft his imaginative rave-like soundscapes. Grammy-winning producer Finneas, during a recent interview with Spotify, recalled a time in the studio with 2hollis when he described a sound he was trying to capture as “a crystal with a pretty face on it.” This is a regular practice. Backstage, he described the process of juxtaposing an RL Grime-esque intense trap drop with a synth piano inspired by the movement and presence of a porcelain Chinese lucky cat he kept in his bedroom studio at the Altadena house. This was for his song “burn” from “star,” a scorcher which also happened to be the last song recorded in his home before the flames hit.
For 2hollis’ most openly psyche’d song on the album, “tell me,” where he professes lyrics like, “Everybody I don’t know tryna know me these days I don’t even know who I am,” his mental visual for the ending electro drop is illuminating. “I always imagined heavy rain there and lightning shining on someone’s face,” Hollis said about a perhaps heroic moment linked to the fire. “And it’s also like a face-off. Maybe me versus my ego on a rainy war field at the end of ‘Squid Game.’”
2hollis often creates outlandish alternate worlds he hopes to thrust his listening audience into. “I think there’s become this thing with a lot of artists where they feel the need to be relatable,” he proclaimed questioningly. “That’s cool, but I want [to present] the fantasy of, ‘Let me listen and pretend I’m not me for a few minutes.” In a time of constantly looming shaky ground, Hollis presents escapism as mindful.
2hollis
(Sandra Jamaleddine)
2hollis, at times, appears in tandem with a white tiger. The animal bears the name of his first album and appears on stage at his shows as a large figurine that roars vehemently behind him during song transitions. As much as it feels a part of his fantastical sonic world, it is also deeply tied to his personal story.
On a follow-up call from backstage at a later show in Detroit, Hollis recalled a period of debilitating psychosis he experienced at 18 years old. He mediated and prayed to Archangels as an attempt to pull himself back together. When he invoked the spirit of the Angel Metatron, he would picture a white tiger destroying all the darkness and “demonic shit” around him. “It was wild and sounds insane, but it really helped me come out of it,” he said.
The more one speaks to Hollis, the more one realizes he embodies the Shakespearean line “All the world’s a stage.” Even in the most wholesome times in his life, as a little league baseball player and school theater kid, he would get a similar “butterfly in the stomach feeling” from the performance of it all. But by that same token, he is also someone who values solitude and garnered his appreciation for it from Altadena itself.
Hollis describes it as a place of “untouched, unscathed innocence.” A place where he could walk his dog up to the star behind his home, meditate, and look at the city of LA in the distance. “I go back there all the time even though there’s nothing there anymore,” Hollis said from Detroit about his home’s unending pull. “It’s just comforting to be there by myself. The energy that was there before didn’t die.”
That far-gone youthful time alone is where Hollis dreamed of the world he’s in now. He said, if he could, he’d say to that wide-eyed yet apprehensive kid, “Dude, you’re doing it, you were right, you knew. Now it’s beautifully harmoniously coming together.” On “tell me” 2hollis raps that he’s equal parts scared of “press,” “death,” and “judgment.” But now, with overwhelming chaos in his rearview, he proclaims, “I’m running headfirst into everything. I’m not dying. I’m not scared of sh—.”
The firestorms that broke out in January ravaged two distinctly different stretches of Los Angeles County: one with grand views of the Pacific Ocean, the other nestled against the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains.
But so far, a push from congressional Republicans to investigate the Jan. 7 firestorm and response has been focused almost exclusively on the Palisades fire, which broke out in L.A.’s Pacific Palisades and went on to burn parts of Malibu and surrounding areas.
In a letter to City Council President Marqueece Harris-Dawson, two U.S. senators this week intensified that investigation, saying they want an enormous trove of documents on Los Angeles Fire Department staffing, wildfire preparations, the city’s water supply and many other topics surrounding the devastating blaze.
U.S. Sens. Rick Scott (R-Fla.) and Ron Johnson (R-Wis.) asked for records related to several issues raised during and after the Palisades fire, including an empty reservoir and the failure to fully extinguish a previous fire that was later identified as the cause.
In contrast, the letter only briefly mentions the Eaton fire, which broke out in the unincorporated community of Altadena and spread to parts of Pasadena. That emergency was plagued by delayed evacuation alerts, deployment issues and allegations that electrical equipment operated by Southern California Edison sparked the blaze.
Both fires incinerated thousands of homes. Twelve people died in the Palisades fire. In the Eaton fire, all but one of the 19 who died were found in west Altadena, where evacuation alerts came hours after flames and smoke were threatening the area.
Scott and Johnson gave Harris-Dawson a deadline of Nov. 3 to produce records on several topics specific to the city of L.A.: “diversity, equity and inclusion” hiring policies at the city’s Fire Department; the Department of Water and Power’s oversight of its reservoirs; and the removal of Fire Chief Kristin Crowley by Mayor Karen Bass earlier this year.
Officials in Los Angeles County said they have not received such a letter dealing with either the Palisades fire or the Eaton fire.
A spokesperson for Johnson referred questions about the letter to Scott’s office. An aide to Scott told The Times this week that the investigation remains focused on the Palisades fire but could still expand. Some Eaton fire records were requested, the spokesperson said, because “they’re often inextricable in public reports.”
The senators — who both sit on the Senate’s Committee on Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs — opened the probe after meeting with reality TV star Spencer Pratt, who lost a home in the Palisades fire and quickly became an outspoken critic of the city’s response to the fire and subsequent rebuilding efforts. At the time, the senators called the Palisades fire “an unacceptable failure of government to protect the lives and property of its citizens.”
The investigation was initially billed as a look at the city’s emergency preparations, including the lack of water in a nearby reservoir and in neighborhood fire hydrants the night of the fire. The Times first reported that the Santa Ynez Reservoir, located in Pacific Palisades, had been closed for repairs for nearly a year.
The letter to Harris-Dawson seeks records relating to the reservoir as well as those dealing with “wildfire preparation, suppression, and response … including but not limited to the response to the Palisades and Lachman fires.”
Officials have said the Lachman fire, intentionally set Jan. 1, reignited six days later to become the Palisades fire. A suspect was recently arrested on suspicion of arson in the Lachman fire. Now, the senators are raising concerns about why that fire wasn’t properly contained.
The sweeping records request also seeks communications sent to and from each of the 15 council members and or their staff that mention the Palisades and Eaton fires. At this point, it’s unclear whether the city would have a substantial number of documents on the Eaton fire, given its location outside city limits.
Harris-Dawson did not provide comment. But Councilmember Hugo Soto-Martínez, who serves on the council’s public safety committee, made clear that he thinks the senators are confused by Southern California’s geography — and the distinctions between city and county jurisdictions.
“MAGA Republicans couldn’t even look at a map before launching into this ridiculous investigation,” he said. “DEI did not cause the fires, and these senators should take their witch hunts elsewhere,” he said in a statement.
Officials in L.A. County, who have confronted their own hard questions about botched evacuation alerts and poor resource deployment during the Eaton fire, said they had not received any letters from the senators about either fire.
Neither Los Angeles County Supervisor Kathryn Barger — who currently serves as board chair — nor Supervisor Lindsey Horvath had received such a document request, according to their aides. Barger represents Altadena, while Horvath’s district includes Pacific Palisades, Malibu and unincorporated communities affected by the Palisades fire.
Monday’s letter also seeks records “referring or relating to any reports or investigations of arson, burglary, theft, or looting” in fire-affected areas, as well as the arrest of Jonathan Rinderknecht, the Palisades fire arson suspect. It also seeks documents on the council’s efforts to “dismantle systemic racism” — and whether such efforts affected the DWP or the Fire Department.
Alberto Retana, president and chief executive of Community Coalition, a nonprofit group based in Harris-Dawson’s district, said he too views the inquiry from the two senators as a witch hunt — one that’s targeting L.A. city elected officials while ignoring Southern California Edison.
“There’s been reports that Edison was responsible for the Eaton fire, but there’s [nothing] that shows any concern about that,” he said.
Residents in Altadena have previously voiced concerns about what they viewed as disparities in the Trump administration’s response to the two fires. The Palisades fire tore through the mostly wealthy neighborhoods of Pacific Palisades and Malibu — home to celebrities who have since kept the recovery in the spotlight. Meanwhile, many of Altadena’s Black and working-class residents say their communities have been left behind.
In both areas, however, there has been growing concern that now-barren lots will be swiftly purchased by wealthy outside investors, including those who are based outside of the United States.
Scott, in a news release issued this week, said the congressional investigation will also examine whether Chinese companies are “taking advantage” of the fire recovery. The Times has not been able to independently verify such claims.
The feel of an Italian festa in Altadena, the South Bay’s “time capsule” Japanese food scene, delivery drones, a tasting menu hidden in a parking lot, more downtown L.A. closures, a Basque restaurant’s last days. Plus, recycle or reuse? And a bar that celebrates burlesque and red Solo cups. I’m Laurie Ochoa, general manager of L.A. Times Food, with this week’s Tasting Notes.
Good food, good wine, good neighbors
The happy, chaotic scene outside Good Neighbor Bar and West Altadena Wine + Spirits with families enjoying Triple Beam Pizza, one of the rotating vendors appearing during the shop and bar’s summer pop-up series.
(Laurie Ochoa / Los Angeles Times)
When I first started going to Italy for summer vacations with my late husband, Jonathan Gold, and the extended friends and family of chef Nancy Silverton, we’d get to know different areas of Umbria and Tuscany through festas or sagras, local gatherings centered around a specific regional dish or ingredient — maybe cinghiale (wild boar), porcini mushrooms, summer truffles or various pastas such as strozzapreti (which is being celebrated this week in the Umbrian town of Paciano). These are kid-friendly, come-as-you-are parties, typically on a soccer field or town square with long tables, local wine poured into plastic cups and food often served by volunteer cooks pitching in to help raise money for a good cause.
Until recently, the closest I’d come to experiencing that sagra spirit in Los Angeles was the run of summer movie nights that Leo Bulgarini used to host outside his Altadena gelateria and restaurant Bulgarini Gelato Vino Cucina. He and his crew piled plates with pasta and salad before sunset signaled the start of the movie, often an Italian comedy or melodrama, projected onto an outdoor wall or a large, jerry-rigged screen. People would bring their kids and dogs, meet up with neighbors and settle into camping chairs or benches with their wine or cups of gelato once the movie began.
Bulgarini’s restaurant, which escaped the flames of the Eaton fire in January, has yet to reopen because of smoke damage and the loss of so much of the neighborhood around his shop — not to mention the fact that he, his wife and their son lost their home in the blaze.
But two other Altadena business owners have joined forces with local restaurants to create one of the most welcoming neighborhood gatherings with the soul of an Italian sagra.
As senior food editor Danielle Dorsey wrote in the guide she and Stephanie Breijo put together on the 21 best new bars in Los Angeles, a summer pop-up series has emerged outside Good Neighbor, “the first cocktail bar to open in Altadena in 40 years,” and West Altadena Wine + Spirits, both opened last year by Randy Clement and April Langford, the couple behind Everson Royce Bar in the Arts District, Silverlake Wine and the former Pasadena wine shop Everson Royce.
On Tuesday nights, Brisa Lopez Salazar’s Casa pop-up serves tacos with a different handmade tortilla each week — maybe white heirloom corn with beet juice or masa infused with turmeric or activated charcoal. On Thursdays, Triple Beam Pizza shows up; Fridays there are oysters, poke bowls and lobster rolls from Shucks Oyster Co.; Saturdays you can get smash burgers from For the Win and, new to the line-up, Altadena’s recently reopened Miya Thai restaurant is serving on Sundays.
Triple Beam’s heirloom tomato pizza served at the summer outdoor pop-up series hosted by Good Neighbor Bar and West Altadena Wine + Spirits.
(Laurie Ochoa / Los Angeles Times)
Two weeks ago, an Instagram post from Triple Beam about its newest heirloom tomato pizza drew me to the outdoor space just outside the Altadena burn zone. I found the patio packed, sagra-style, with groups of families and friends from the neighborhood and beyond. Kids chased each other in and around a wood-chip-bedded play area fitted with reclaimed tree stumps; more freshly sawed stumps were repurposed as stools and tables around the outdoor space. Dogs sat on laps or at customers’ feet. A roving Good Neighbor barkeep took cocktail orders at the picnic tables. And on the side of the building, at a takeout-style window, a West Altadena Wine merchant was selling glasses and flights of wine.
Almost as soon as I arrived, I reconnected with a friend I hadn’t seen in years as well as a family from my daughter’s old high school. The San Gabriel mountains in the near distance turned pink and purple during sunset, framed by a U-Haul sign as we ate our pizza, which arrived with all colors and shapes of tomato. With it, we sipped Sébastien Bobinet and Émeline Calvez’s Piak blanc de noir from clear plastic cups. It was a perfect summer evening, made poignant with a stop on the way out at the wall-sized map created by Highland Park production designer Noel McCarthy marking the more than 9,000 homes and businesses destroyed or damaged in the fire, and the places where people died. The map, as writer Marah Eakin reported in April, has helped people visualize the shocking extent of the fire’s devastation, even as Good Neighbor’s summer gatherings have brought people together, a reminder of why so many want to rebuild this community.
The map Noel McCarthy made displaying the extent of damage in Altadena from the Eaton fire. It is installed outside the parking lot and patio area of the Good Neighbor Bar and West Altadena Wine + Spirits.
(Marcus Ubungen / For The Times)
Japanese food ‘made the Japanese way’
The D-Combo at Fukagawa in Gardena.
(Rob Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)
Food’s summer intern Lauren Ng is headed back to school soon, but before she left to resume her studies at New York University, the Torrance native finished a project examining the “time capsule” nature of Japanese food in the South Bay. The area is “home to the biggest suburban Japanese community in the United States,” thanks in no small part to three of Japan’s biggest automakers — Toyota, Honda and Nissan — establishing their U.S. headquarters in the region during the 1960s. The car companies are now gone, but many of the restaurants remain, with a new generation of South Bay places opened in recent years. Ng visited many of them and wrote a guide to 18 of the best Japanese restaurants and food producers in the South Bay.
A loss for Chinatown
Yue Wa Market owner Amy Tran holds up dragon fruit and cherimoya at her Chinatown market in 2019.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
In 2019, when former Times columnist Frank Shyong reported on the changes in Chinatown that contributed to the closure of Ai Hoa Market and G and G Market, he wrote that one of the few places left to buy affordable fruits and vegetables in the neighborhood was Amy Tran’s Yue Wa Market. Now, as columnist Jenn Harris wrote this week, Tran and her family will close Yue Wa next month after 18 years serving Chinatown. A spate of robberies, slow pandemic recovery, ICE raids and the forces of gentrification contributed to the family’s decision.
“I don’t feel ready to let go of the store, but there’s not much I can do to bring more people in,” Tran told Harris. “Business was booming and a lot of people used to come around, but now there is no foot traffic and a lot of people have moved away from Chinatown.”
More downtown losses: It was only a couple of weeks ago that I was at downtown L.A.’s Tokyo Fried Chicken, where, I must admit, the dining room was sparsely populated but four-wheeled robot carts were kept busy with takeout deliveries. Yet as Karla Marie Sanford reported this week, after owners Elaine and Kouji Yamanashi announced they were closing the restaurant Aug. 10, customers suddenly showed up and waited in an hours-long line for one last chance to eat the chicken known for its super-crisp skin and soy sauce-ginger marinade. It was a brief return to the restaurant’s days in its original Monterey Park location where lines for a table were constant.
The downtown location had the bad luck to open just before the pandemic and never had a chance to reach its full potential. Elaine Yamanashi told Sanford that she and her chef husband hope at some point to find a new location for Tokyo Fried Chicken. “We’re taking this time, not off,” she said, “but to reflect.”
Angel City Brewery.
(Sam Samders)
Meanwhile, Angel City Brewery, founded in 1997 by Michael Bowe then acquired in 2012 by Boston Beer — a year after the company established its downtown brewpub location notable for its distinctive neon signage that acted as a welcome to the Arts District — announced that it will close next April when the building’s lease is up.
“The brand no longer lines up with our long-term growth strategy,” said a Boston Beer spokesperson, adding that the company plans to focus on its “core national brands,” which include Samuel Adams.
And LA Cha Cha Chá in the Arts District, with its lush, tropical rooftop, is also set to close sometime this fall according to co-owner Alejandro Marín.
End of the Basque road
In addition to prime rib at the Glendora Continental, which is being put up for sale, French Basque dishes like slow-braised lamb in a Burgundy demi-glace, pickled tongue and escargots à la bourguignonne are on the menu, along with crab cakes and salads.
(Catherine Dzilenski / For The Times)
There wasn’t an empty seat at Glendora Continental when contributor Jean Trinh stopped into the 45-year-old restaurant on Route 66, “a reminder,” she writes, “of fading connections to the Basque diaspora in California.” Now that the owners have put the restaurant up for sale, its days are numbered so regular customers have been showing up for live music and the Continental’s “mix of Basque, French and American food,” including lamb shank, prime rib, pickled tongue and escargots à la bourguignonne. “I would say it’s Basque with a sprinkle of American,” co-owner Antoinette Sabarots told Trinh, “or vice versa.”
Yes, restaurants are still opening
Oy Bar chef-owner Jeff Strauss, left, with sous chef Esteban Palacios at Vey, the tandem outdoor bar.
(Stephanie Breijo / Los Angeles Times)
Despite all the closure news, as Stephanie Breijo reports, good restaurants keep opening in Los Angeles, including Baby Bistro from chef Miles Thompson and his sommelier business partner, Andy Schwartz. They call it an “Angeleno bistro,” with inspiration from Japanese, Korean, Italian, Mexican, French and more cuisines. “I think the food is really defined by the cultures of Los Angeles,” Thompson told Breijo. “If you already eat at any of the regional or international restaurants in this city, you’ll find inspiring foods that go into this menu.”
And chef Jeff Strauss, of the Highland Park deli Jeff’s Table and OyBar in Studio City, has set up a weekend-only six-course tasting menu spot called Vey in the back parking lot of OyBar. As Strauss described it to Breijo, he thinks of it as “a casual, rolling omakase.”
Another hidden spot is Evan Funke’s new Bar Avoja (slang for “hell yeah”), a Hollywood cocktail lounge accessed through the dining room of the chef’s Mother Wolf restaurant. In addition to drinks, Roman street food is on the menu. Meanwhile, the chef’s namesake Beverly Hills restaurant, Funke, is temporarily closed due to a fire in the kitchen’s exhaust system on Tuesday. As Breijo reported, no one was hurt and there was minimal damage.
Also, Hong Kong’s Hi Bake chain has opened a pet-friendly branch in Beverly Hills serving “banana rolls, thousand-layer cakes, meat floss rolls and egg tarts. And San Francisco’s Boichik Bagels, which opened in Los Feliz earlier this year, is now serving at downtown L.A.’s landmark Bradbury Building.
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Burlesque and red Solo cups
Uncle Ollie’s Penthouse owner Brian Houck in the “backvan” at his downtown Los Angeles bar.
(Roger Kisby / For The Times)
Former L.A. Weekly nightlife columnist and Los Angeles magazine editor Lena Lecaro writes about Uncle Ollie’s Penthouse, a new downtown L.A. bar with “wild, color-saturated decor, potent cocktails served in red Solo cups and a soundtrack that inspires stomping the floor with pals or singing along with strangers.”
”I can’t remember the last time I felt so connected to my hometown as an L.A. native,” musician Taleen Kali told Lecaro. “I also love that you get to keep your own party cup all night — it’s a total vibe, plus it’s less wasteful and more sustainable.”
Noodles easier to make than you think
Mei Lin, chef and proprietor of 88 Club chef in Beverly Hills, right, makes mung bean noodles in the Times Test Kitchen. Left, the finished spicy mung bean noodles.
(Mark Potts / Los Angeles Times)
When Mei Lin, chef and proprietor of 88 Club in Beverly Hills and former “Top Chef” and “Tournament of Champions” winner, demonstrated her spicy mung bean noodle recipe in the Times Test Kitchen for our “Chef That!” video series, we all wanted to try making the noodles. It’s a lot easier and fun to do than most of us thought. You start with a startchy base that thickens into jelly in a bowl. After you unmold the gelatinous blob, you scrape a grater over the mound, forming the noodles. Then it’s just a matter of seasoning the noodles with chile, peanuts and herbs.
Mark the dates
The Times’ Food Bowl Night Market, this year presented by Square, is taking place Oct. 10 and 11 at City Market Social House downtown. Among the participating restaurants announced so far are Holbox, Baroo, the Brothers Sushi, OyBar,Heritage Barbecue, Crudo e Nudo, Hummingbird Ceviche House, Rossoblu, Perilla LA, Evil Cooks and Holy Basil. VIP tickets that allow early entry always go fast. Check lafoodbowl.com for tickets and info.
And at this year’s LA Chef Conference on Oct. 6, an all-day event taking place at Redbird and Vibiana in downtown L.A., I’ll be on a panel with Roy Choi, Nancy Silverton, Ludo Lefebvre and Evan Kleiman talking about the legacy of Jonathan Gold. Find information on tickets and other events at the conference here.
Also …
(Los Angeles Times photo illustration; Photo by Nick Agro/For The Times)
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Fifty years ago, L.A. free-jazz titan Bobby Bradford moved into a rambling, verdant house in Altadena. The cornet and trumpet virtuoso, who performed in Ornette Coleman’s band and taught jazz history at Pomona College and Pasadena City College for decades, chose the neighborhood partly because it was bustling with artists. He finally had enough bedrooms for his young family to thrive in a bucolic corner of the city with deep Black roots.
In January, Bradford’s house burned down in the Eaton fire, alongside thousands of others in his cherished Altadena. At 91, he never imagined starting his life over again in tiny rented apartments, with decades of memories in cinders.
Despite it all, he’s still playing music. (He said that while he did not receive grants from major organizations such as MusiCares or Sweet Relief, a GoFundMe and others efforts by fellow musicians helped him replace his cherished horn.)
At the Hammer Museum on Thursday, he’ll revisit “Stealin’ Home,” a 2019 suite of original compositions inspired by his lifelong hero — the baseball legend and Dodgers’ color-line-breaker Jackie Robinson, a man who knew about persevering through sudden, unrelenting adversity.
“That’s all I have left,” Bradford said, pulling his horn out of its case to practice for the afternoon. “I’m [91] years old. I don’t have years to wait around to rebuild.”
For now, Bradford lives a small back house on a quiet Pasadena residential street. It’s his and his wife’s fifth temporary residence since the Eaton fire, and they’ve done their best to make it a home. Bradford hung up vintage posters from old European jazz festivals and corralled enough equipment together to peaceably write music in the garage.
Still, he misses his home in Altadena — both the physical neighborhood where he’d run into friends at the post office and the dream of Altadena, where working artists and multigenerational families could live next to nature at the edge of Los Angeles.
“We knew who all the musicians were. Even if we didn’t spent much time all together, it did feel like one big community,” Bradford said. “We knew players for the L.A. Phil, painters, dancers.”
L.A.-based jazz composer/musician Bobby Bradford plays the cornet while rehearsing his original composition in his Altadena home in 2019.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)
These days, there’s a weariness in his eyes and gait, understandable after such a profound disruption in the twilight of his life. He’s grateful that smaller local institutions have stepped up to provide places for him to practice his craft, even as insurance companies dragged him through a morass. “The company said they won’t insure me again because because I filed a claim on my house,” he said, bewildered. “How is that my fault?”
But he draws resilience from his recent music, which evokes the gigantic accomplishments and withering abuse Robinson faced as the first Black player in Major League Baseball. As a child in 1947, Bradford remembers listening to the moment Robinson took the field, and while he has always admired the feat, his understanding of Robinson has evolved with age.
“It was such a revelation to me as a kid, but later I was more interested in who the person was that would agree to be the sacrificial lamb,” Bradford said. “How do you turn that into flesh-and-blood music? I began to think about him being called up, with a kind of call-and-response in the music.”
The challenge Bradford gave himself — evoking Robinson’s grace on the field and fears off it — caps a long career of adapting his art form to reflect and challenge the culture around him.
With Coleman’s band in the ’50s and ’60s, and on his own formidable catalog as a bandleader, he helped pioneer free jazz, a style that subverted the studied cool of bebop with blasts of atonality and mercurial song structures. He played on Coleman’s 1972 LP “Science Fiction,” alongside Indian vocalist Asha Puthli. “Ornette played with so much raw feeling,” Bradford said. “He showed me how the same note could be completely different if you played it in a different chord. I had to learn that to play his songs.” His longstanding collaboration with clarinetist John Carter set the template for post-bop in L.A., charged with possibility but lyrical and yearning.
American jazz trumpeter Bobby Bradford performs onstage circa 1980.
(David Redfern / Redferns)
He’s equally proud of his decades in academia, introducing young students to centuries of the Black American music that culminated in jazz, and the new ways of being that emerged from it. At both Pomona College and Pasadena City College (where Robinson attended and honed his athletic prowess), Bradford helped his students inhabit the double consciousness required of Black artists to survive, invent and advance their art forms in America — from slavery’s field songs to Southern sacred music, to Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, Sarah Vaughan and into the wilds of modernity.
“You always had that one kid who thinks he knows more about this than I do,” he said with a laugh. “But then you make him understand that to get to this new Black identity, you have to understand what Louis Armstrong had to overcome, how he had to perform in certain ways in front of white people, so he could create this music.”
He’s been rehearsing with a mix of older and younger local musicians at Healing Force of the Universe, a beloved Pasadena record store and venue that reminds him of the makeshift jazz club he owned near Pasadena’s Ice House in the ’70s.
Places like that are on edge in L.A. these days. Local clubs such as ETA and the Blue Whale (where Bradford recorded a live album in 2018) have closed or faced hard times postpandemic. Others, like the new Blue Note in Hollywood, have big aspirations. He’s hopeful L.A. jazz — ever an improvisational art form — will survive and thrive even after the loss of a neighborhood like Altadena displaced so many artists. “I remember someone coming into our club in the ’70s and saying he hated the music we were playing. I asked him what he didn’t like about it, and he said, ‘Well, everything.’ I told him, ‘Maybe this isn’t the place for you then,’” Bradford laughed. “You can’t live in Los Angeles without that spirit. There are always going to be new places to play.”
Bobby Bradford rehearses in Pasadena.
(Michael Rowe / For The Times)
He’s worried about the country, though, as many once-settled questions about who belongs in America are called into doubt under the current president. January’s wildfires proved to him, very intimately, that the most fixed points in one’s life and community are vulnerable.
Even Jackie Robinson, whose feats seemed an indisputable point of pride for all Americans, had his military career temporarily scrubbed from government websites in a recent purge against allegedly “woke” history.
“I thought we had rowed ourselves across the River Jordan,” Bradford said, shaking his head. “But now we’re back on the other side again. We thought we had arrived.”
Who knows how many years of performing Bradford has left. But as the sound of his melancholy horn arced through a sweltering Pasadena afternoon, one couldn’t help but be grateful to still have him here playing, even after losing everything.
“You know, in his first game, in three times at bat, Jackie Robinson didn’t get a hit,” he said. “Folks said, ‘Oh, it’s so sad. We told you he couldn’t play on a professional level.’ But when you dig into it, you discover that he didn’t get a hit at the game, but he laid down a sacrifice to score the winning run.”
