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When Juan Antonio moved to Los Angeles from his hometown of Puebla, the capital city of the Mexican state by the same name, he got straight to work doing what he knew best: baking cemita bread.

Antonio started baking at a panadería in Lincoln Heights in about 1996, churning out dozens of fresh cemitas daily and selling them door to door. At the time, there were few places selling the bread, and the community recognized him as “el cemitero.”

The cemita sandwich is a staple in Puebla, a gastronomically rich region in East-Central Mexico with Indigenous, Spanish and Middle Eastern roots. Alongside cemitas, Puebla is known for traditional dishes such as mole poblano (the sauce complex with chocolate and chiles), chiles en nogada (stuffed Poblano chiles drenched in a walnut cream sauce) and tacos arabe (tacos with spit-roasted pork, wrapped in pita bread).

Cemita bread, speckled with sesame seeds and crisp on the outside with a soft, fluffy interior, is believed to have originated in 16th century Puebla, brought to Mexico by Spanish conquistadors and later developed with French baking techniques.

Due to its long preservation period, the bread was commonly found on ships with long voyages, and some believe it was offered as a tribute to the Spanish crown.

The sandwich started with simple fillings like beans and cheese and gradually became more layered over time. Now, cemita sandwiches typically consist of the titular, toasted sesame seed bread; a heap of stringy, salty Oaxacan cheese; avocado; jalapeño or chipotle peppers; pápalo, an herb with a cilantro-minty taste; and some choice of meat, with milanesa — a breaded chicken or steak cutlet — being the most popular options.

Cemitas, often wrapped in crinkly yellow paper and eaten on the go, have grown a steady presence in L.A. since Antonio first started selling them in East L.A. almost 30 years ago. Today, he continues to bake cemitas at El Cemitero Poblano, his family restaurant in Boyle Heights, and is joined by food trucks, street vendors and other sit-down restaurants offering traditional and creative takes on the iconic Poblano dish that’s usually priced between $10 and $20.

In Puebla, thousands gather for the annual Festival de la Cemita Poblana, a celebration that takes place around Cinco de Mayo and features dozens of cemita vendors.

Though commonly misunderstood as Mexico’s Independence Day, Cinco de Mayo is a holiday with special significance to Puebla, as it recognizes the Mexican army’s victory over France at the historic Battle of Puebla in 1862. In L.A., the holiday is often celebrated with mariachi bands, free-flowing margaritas and tacos, but if you’re looking for ways to tie in Poblano traditions, consider stopping by one of L.A.’s top spots for cemitas, from classic East L.A. stands to places in La Puente, Mid-City and Van Nuys.

You know him by his imitators, the ones he hand-picked for the show he made. Arguably the greatest comedy impresario of the modern age, Lorne Michaels, the lip-pursing, imperiously droll Canadian who created “Saturday Night Live,” has curiously enough never seemed like documentary material — there’s always been a strange satisfaction in him remaining an aloof, besuited guru, getting older but seeming beyond mystery. A well-timed impression always felt like enough. We’re laughing about someone we don’t know and there’s an odd purity in that.

Oscar-winner Morgan Neville’s “Lorne” — made with the begrudging OK of its subject as part of the 50th season hoopla — is, therefore, a curious instance of not being all that successful at unraveling the man, yet remaining perfectly enjoyable as a conduit for bite-size chunks of insight from not-so-famous associates and ultra-famous friends. It’s a well-meaning impression of a soul-searching documentary (and only an impression), but impressions can still be plenty entertaining.

Neville hedges his bet by filling us in on Michaels’ spotlight apprehension, making his reticence a through line. Interviewees joke about how inscrutable he is, guess at aspects of his biography, and early on we hear Michaels’ belief that explaining humor is pointless.

But would we have wanted a Jedi of few words to suddenly dissect his many brilliant casting choices or rehash the impetus to conceive the show, when it’s been written about repeatedly and even turned into a feature? Thankfully “Lorne” grasps this and instead decides the best narrative is one of Michaels as a force of stability amid constant change: shielding “SNL” from irrelevance and invasive network overlords, turning his unknowability into a kind of totem-like, hard-earned confidence, taking mentorship of talent seriously and accepting his mockability as the release valve that reinforces his wise stewardship.

Better to have dozens of funny, perceptive interviewees (Tina Fey, Conan O’Brien, John Mulaney, Adam Sandler, Lily Tomlin) piece it together, than to expect much from the guy who doesn’t care to self-analyze anyway. Likewise, don’t expect anything noteworthy from a pal like Paul Simon, who would rather be facile about his friendship with Michaels than informative.

Being there for his weekly routine captures something of Michaels’ entrenched schedule, as well as the scary-fast prep swirling around him. Seeing everyone crammed into his office for a howdy-host confab looks like the coolest family get-together. Same with the table read for dozens of mostly-to-be-axed sketches — like a dinner at which everyone’s trying to get Grandpa to laugh. The night-of-broadcast scenes draw you into the tension of finalizing and problem-solving and Michaels’ engagement with all manner of details is captivating.

Neville is smart enough as a documentarian to leave out platitudes, but also to let access to Michaels’ Maine retreat be a vibe rather than some knockout reveal. The result is an ode of sorts to elusive bossdom, where the cryptic may remain cryptic, decoded just enough to let us appreciate the achievement.

You’ll probably go straight from “Lorne” to rewatching notorious moments like the controversial Season 3 “stunt baby” sketch — and this is no doubt Michaels’ preferred outcome. Because, all those impersonations of chilly indifference aside, he will be known by what he got on the air: a legacy of generation-defining comedy that’s more impressive than any dutiful biodoc could ever be.

NEW YORK — Beverly Hills-based Live Nation and its Ticketmaster subsidiary faced a bruising courtroom loss Wednesday after a federal jury found that the company operated a monopoly over concert venues.

The verdict by a Manhattan, N.Y., jury came after a five-week trial and caps a closely watched case that could have far reaching effects across the music industry, potentially leading to the breakup of the companies.

Ticketmaster is the world’s largest ticket seller for live events, while Live Nation is a dominant force in the concert business.

The civil case began when the federal government alleged that Live Nation used its clout to engage in a variety of anticompetitive practices, including preventing venues from using multiple ticket sellers.

“It is time to hold them accountable,” Jeffrey Kessler, an attorney for the states, said in a closing argument. He called Live Nation a “monopolistic bully” that drove up prices for ticket buyers.

Jurors agreed. They found that Ticketmaster had overcharged consumers by $1.72 for each ticket. The judge will assess damages later.

Live Nation, which owns and operates hundreds of venues, countered that it did not violate U.S. antitrust laws, arguing that artists, sports teams and venues decide prices and ticketing practices.

“Success is not against the antitrust laws in the United States,” Live Nation attorney David Marriott said in his summation.

Live Nation said in a statement that the “jury’s verdict is not the last word on this matter,” noting the court had yet to rule on a motion it had filed to challenge its liability in the case.

The trial revealed some embarrassing internal communications, including emails from a Live Nation executive who called customers “so stupid” and said the company was “robbing them blind, baby.” The executive, Benjamin Baker, testified that the messages were “very immature and unacceptable.”

The original lawsuit, led by a cadre of interested parties including the federal government, 39 states and the District of Columbia, dates to 2024. It alleged that Live Nation and Ticketmaster monopolized various aspects of the live music industry, such as concert promotion, venue operations, artist management and ticketing services.

Live Nation manages more than 400 artists and controls more than 265 venues in North America, while Ticketmaster simultaneously controls around 80% of the primary ticket marketplace and also is increasing its involvement in the resale market, according to the lawsuit.

Last month, Live Nation secured an unexpected tentative settlement with the Department of Justice in which the company agreed to several structural changes to its business, including adjustments to ticketing deals with venues, capping service fees and paying a $280-million fine.

However, more than 30 states, including California, decided to proceed with the trial. California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta praised these state-led efforts to protect consumers, even amid dwindling antitrust enforcement from the Trump administration, he said in a statement.

“This is a historic and resounding victory for artists, fans, and the venues that support them,” Bonta said. “We are incredibly proud of today’s outcome … this verdict shows just how far states can go to protect our residents from big corporations that are using their power to illegally raise prices and rip-off Americans.”

Though a verdict has been reached, remedies for how Live Nation will be held accountable for its actions are still being decided by the judge.

One possibility is that the companies could be split up, an outcome favored by critics.

National Independent Venue Assn. Executive Director Stephen Parker said Ticketmaster and Live Nation need to be separate for the industry to see change.

“Live Nation and Ticketmaster must be broken up now. Ticketmaster should not be permitted to participate in the ticket resale market. Live Nation should not be able to promote more than 50% of artists’ tours,” Parker said in a statement. “And the damages paid to the states should be remitted to the independent venues, promoters, festivals, and fans that have suffered under Live Nation’s monopolistic reign over the last 15 years.”

Serona Elton, attorney and interim vice dean at the University of Miami’s Frost School of Music, said that the separation of Live Nation and Ticket master seems to be “on the table,” but she said it’s too early to assess the verdict’s fallout on the music industry.

Elton said fans might notice small changes in pricing, but there are factors other than Live Nation that are contributing to high ticket prices, such as the secondary ticket market as well as supply and demand challenges.

The verdict, Elton said, “sends a message of support to music companies and professionals working in the live space who have felt like they have suffered financial consequences because of Live Nation’s behavior.”

The ruling is a small but necessary step toward achieving a balanced and competitive ticketing industry, said Hal Singer, a managing director of economic consulting firm Econ One, who specializes in antitrust and consumer protection issues.

Forcing a Ticketmaster sale probably is the only remedy that will bring real change, Singer said.

“We’re not out of the woods quite yet,” Singer said. “We’ve kind of tilted the probability.… It could change the competitive balance. But that requires that a meaningful remedy follows the liability. You need both.”

Fans and some artists have long groused about Ticketmaster, which was founded in 1976 and merged with Live Nation in 2010.

Dustin Brighton, director of government relations for the Coalition for Ticket Fairness, agreed that although the verdict is a landmark moment for fans, “it’s not the end of the road.”

“As the court considers remedies, the focus must be on restoring competition, increasing transparency, and ensuring fans have real choice,” Brighton said in a statement.

Times staff writer August Brown and the Associated Press contributed to this report.