Mexicane Cuisine
Mexicane Cuisine
Mexicane Cuisine
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access to Latino Metropolis
Mexican Cuisine
Food as Culture
67
cultural contact, whether indoors in private malls, theme parks, movie the-
aters, video stores, or restaurants, increasingly revolves around the con-
sumption of cultural products. Hence the importance of what Sharon
Zukin defines as the critical infrastructure, which designs production and
consumption of cultural products. Zukiris concept of critical infrastructure
covers a broad spectrum of knowledge workers, beginning with the "high-
culture artists and performers" typically identified with the cultivation of
urban taste, but also including cultural service workers such as museum
curators, advisers to corporate art collectors, cheese sellers at gourmet food
stores, restaurant waiters, chefs, restaurant owners, and "restaurant critics
whose reviews are eagerly read for vicarious cultural consumption."4 The
critical infrastructure expresses a new global division of labor that requires
the internationalization of investment flows and the power to commodity
local landscapes and traditions. But it also reinforces that division by nor-
malizing the policies of economic and spatial restructuring in global cities
and by producing critiques that cultivate self-aware, status-driven con-
sumption among its urban denizens. To Zukin, restaurant reviewers epito-
mize the critical process that constructs the imagery of the global city:
Rather, for what they lack in lacquered mahogany, silverware, white table-
cloths, and haute respectability, they more than compensate with copious
servings of glamour, multicultural exoticism, and nouvelle chic.
Like ethnic enclaves repackaged for tourists as nostalgia or exotic
Otherness, restaurants, particularly those that set the standards and images
imitated by other restaurants, represent the global city's quintessential dis-
cursive space. Zukin maintains that style-setting restaurants' pairings of ar-
chitectural and culinary design with cultural tourism and culinary perfor-
mance produce "a city's visual style." At the center of this space stand the
restaurateurs, who "often appear as a cultural synthesis of the artist, the en-
trepreneur, and the social organizer. The restaurant itself is both theater
and performance. It serves and helps create the symbolic economy."10 Like
the city officials and developers who promote cultural development and
the architects who design office towers, the menu-designing chefs function
as public intellectuals. The local critical media, which are particularly de-
pendent upon and identified with their audiences, normalize elite culinary
representations by translating them into popular vernaculars. When echoed
by the local critical media, a city's political, economic, and cultural elites
negotiate a city's "look and feel," designating which cultures "should be
visible" and which should remain invisible.11
In Los Angeles, the multicultural style-setting restaurants straddle a
paradox. Throughout the restaurant industry, but especially in the style-
setting nouvelle restaurants, Latino immigrant workers play the role of un-
skilled physical labor while college- and academy-trained chefs play the
role of culinary artists. In such an intellectual division of labor, a cadre of
mostly non-Latino elite chefs appropriates and reinterprets the Latino in-
gredients and recipes their Latino staffs assemble into nouvelle creations.
That the ubiquitous contradictions of multicultural commodification do not
seem more jarring is due in part to the cultural discourses that obscure diem.
Our goal in this chapter is to deconstruct the symbolic representation
and material production of Mexican cuisine in Los Angeles to reveal its
hidden gastronomic culture wars. For most of the twentieth century, culi-
nary symbolism and metaphor have served as important tools for con-
structing racialized Latino images and, later, for appropriating Mexican
culture, and later still, for constructing the city's image of multicultural plu-
ralism. And now, as Latinos emerge as the Los Angeles area's majority popu-
lation and workforce, particularly in the growing service sector, the dialec-
tic between representation and production of Mexican cuisine offers a
critical means of gauging Latino cultural power, or, more precisely, the rela-
tive lack of such power. Because of the domestic, feminized connotations
studio theme parks, restaurants, hotels, guided movie star tours, and cloth-
ing and food manufacturing. Recent data show that lost aerospace jobs, ca-
sualties of the Cold War's end, have been replaced and superseded in
Southern California by new jobs in the cultural sector. Between 1990 and
1997, the number of people employed in the core businesses of motion pic-
tures and television jumped from 143,000 to 262,000, or 83 percent. Ser-
vicing this growing industry in turn generated another 50,000 culture-
based jobs, from music recording to on-location gourmet catering.15 Such
displacements signal structural changes in the economies of global cities.
As manufacturing reorganizes in the suburbs and cities suffer recur-
ring financial crises, culture emerges as the principal "business of cities."
That transformation, which Zukin sees in the "growth of cultural consump-
tion (of art, food, fashion, music, tourism) and their industries," fuels "the
city's symbolic economy, its visible ability to produce both symbols and
space."16 Since Southern California's emergence from its recent economic
downturn, the investment of huge sums of public and private capital in the
arts and entertainment infrastructure of Los Angeles continues to sustain
and expand the region's elite cultural institutions, including its restaurants.
Despite their seeming pluralism and populist disdain for class snobbery,
the style-setting multicultural restaurants of Los Angeles are its most repre-
sentative elite institutions. Like the city's other spaces of cultural produc-
tion, these restaurants have benefited from massive cultural infrastructure
investments. Capital tunneled into museums, such as the new Getty Center
on the Westside, the conversion of Hollywood studios into amusement
parks, and the planned construction of computer-age DreamWorks studios
in the Ballona Wetiands will require a complement of elite culinary spaces.
Once inside the restaurant, the tourist and overseas businessman ex-
perience a safe and highly aestheticized encounter with the multicultural
city before heading off to an evening at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, a
private screening on the Universal Studios lot, or an afternoon at the Mu-
seum of Contemporary Art. In other cases, dinner at Patina Restaurant is
the evening's theatrical event. The multicultural style-setting restaurant
thus functions as an entertainment niche in its own right or as a prelude to
another cultural experience. Either way, investments in culinary entertain-
ment remain intimately linked to local and global economies of scale. Not
only do the critical infrastructure's journalists, public relations operatives,
and marketers create and perpetuate places of "multicultural delectation,"
tens of thousands of immigrant workers ensure that these places operate
profitably and smoothly. But as economic life in the global city gravitates
reminded readers what they already knew—that Mexicans were dirty and
deceitful.
By the time Lummis, a native of Lynn, Massachusetts, got to New
Mexico, however, his opinion of "greasers" had undergone a transforma-
tion. In his 1892 travelogue Tramp across the Continent, Lummis excused
himself for his "silly" Anglo-Saxon prejudices before painting Mexicans as a
"quaint, kindly people, ignorant of books, but better taught than our own
average in all the social virtues."19 It was while writing this book and serving
as Times city editor that Lummis built his home just north of Los Angeles,
on the banks of the usually dry creek bed called Arroyo Seco, where he de-
veloped a fondness for Mexican cooking. In the home he dubbed El Alisal
(the place of the Sycamores) he held court, entertaining artists and intellec-
tuals with dinner parties that featured Mexican cooking and pontificating
on the southwestern Hispanic legacy.20
From his fortresslike home, Lummis wrote articles, books, and edited
magazines such as Out West (Land of Sunshine) that wrapped sun worship,
health fadism, and nostalgia for bygone Spanish days in a single package.
His patronizing view of Mexicans was entirely consistent with his Brahmin
upbringing. He intended his publications for people like himself, the mid-
dle and upper classes he adeptly beckoned to the city. In Los Angeles, he
founded the Landmarks Club, a group that worked to preserve the missions
from further decay and established the Southwest Museum to house the re-
gion's Native American artifacts and Californio history.21 But the character
of Lummis's work would be dictated by the cultural and economic alliances
he would make in Los Angeles.
Like other eastern intellectuals of his generation, he'd become disillu-
sioned with the ideals of American democracy; the capitalist robber barons
didn't need reform-minded do-gooders and middle-class self-improvers to
run the Republican Party. Feeling left out, as well as disgusted by the greed
of monopoly capitalism exposed by the muckrakers, he and other disen-
chanted intellectuals known as mugwumps searched for a new homeland.
They found it in California and the greater Southwest, a landscape that
Lummis imagined as "enchanting" rather than simply savage.22
Refashioning the past to their personal advantage, they now saw
themselves husbanding a fallen Hispanic civilization. Lummis, for his part,
assumed the pose of a Spanish grandee, going so far as to call himself Don
Carlos, a conceit, writes historian James W. Byrkit, that evokes the imagery
of the southern Lost Cause: "Indians toil happily in the fields for Padre
Agustin or Don Jose, rather than blacks for OF Massa; caballero is just an-
other name for cavalier; sprawling ranches . . . replace the colonnaded
least had enough spare time and spare change to enjoy something akin to
their own Harlem Renaissance.36 This rebirth reflected the immigrant's cul-
tural transformation. Paradoxically, these strangers from different corners
of Mexico now hungered for their roots, but also for a sense of community.
Their search led them into the streets, the squares, the shops, and the the-
aters, where they shared experiences of a popular culture that chronicled
their struggles and adjustments to their new home. In downtown bakeries,
tortillerias, pool halls, dance halls, music halls, music stores, restaurants,
bars, theaters, and even art galleries, the exiled immigrants found places
where they could be Mexican in public. The theaters, the most well attend-
ed of these venues, were probably more popular than the churches. In 1927,
for example, about a half dozen downtown Los Angeles theaters regularly
featured Spanish-language plays, musical revues, and silent movies, in-
cluding Spanish-language films produced in Mexico.37 Newspapers such as
La Opinion provided information that helped the members of the Mexican
community adapt to their new home while maintaining a link with their
homeland, and a handful of music stores recorded local Mexican artists,
many of whom sang corridas, or story songs about the revolution they had
fled and the new country they had found. Pedro J. Gonzalez, formerly
Pancho Villa's telegraph operator, persuaded a local radio station to give
him his own early-morning show. His program, the nation's first Spanish-
language radio broadcast, quickly attracted advertisers who recognized the
Mexican community's growing purchasing power. Gonzalez's singing group,
Los Madrugadores, or the Early Risers, performed his popular tune "El
Corrido del Lava-platos," or "The Dishwasher's Ballad," a humorous ac-
count of Pedro's first work experiences after he crossed the border.38
Restaurants such as La Mision Cafe, which capitalized on mission re-
vival imagery and advertised "Exquisite Mexican Dishes," were thus more
than mere purveyors of food and drink. Consuelo Bonzo, who founded La
Mision in 1924, not only hired musicians and dancers to entertain her cus-
tomers, she also invited the city's political leaders to hear the concerns of
the Mexican business community and hosted special celebrations for visit-
ing artists.39 A May 13, 1927, story in La Opinion announced that Virginia
Fabregas, touted on playbills as "the pride of our race," would dine with
the members of her company at La Mision Cafe on the last night Divorcie-
monos (Let's divorce), the play in which she was appearing, ran at the
Capitol Theatre on Spring Street. The article noted: "Mrs. Bonzo, propri-
etress of the well-known 'La Mision' Cafe, has been entrusted with prepar-
ing an exquisite dinner with which to honor the aforementioned persons.
An orchestra shall enliven the genial gathering."40 Bonzo also joined die
Woman grinding flour for tortillas, circa 1920s or 1930s. Photograph from Secu-
rity Pacific Collection, Los Angeles Public Library; reprinted with permission.
mutualistas, or mutual aid groups, that fed and clothed the indigent among
her countrymen and later paid their train fares back to Mexico during the
repatriation hysteria of the 1930s.41
Consuelo Bonzo's contacts with the Los Angeles political and cultural
elite paid off. In 1924, Times editor in chief Harry Chandler, the most influ-
ential member of the city's ruling elite, built upon Lummis's mythologizing.
Chandler, at the insistence of Christine Sterling, persuaded the City Council
to convert the plaza and an adjoining alley into a historic monument cele-
brating the city's Californio founders. Sterling envisioned the alley running
between buildings previously owned by Italian and Chinese shopkeepers as
a Mexican shopping bazaar with restaurants that would cater to the tourists
who visited the Lummis-restored mission across the street.42 She therefore
interceded on Bonzo's behalf after learning of Chandler's plans to demolish
the businesses along Spring Street, where La Mision Cafe was located.43
While other Mexican-owned businesses were pushed south of the Los
Angeles River by a Chandler rebuilding campaign designed to raise down-
town property values, Sterling invited Bonzo to open a restaurant in the for-
mer alley, now transformed into a mythical street that had never really ex-
isted, so that she might serve a style of cooking the city's Mexican founders
La Mision Cafe on North Spring Street, Los Angeles, circa 1920s. Photograph
courtesy of William Estrada, curator, history division, El Pueblo de Los Angeles
Historical Monument.
had never tasted.44 The city offered Consuelo Bonzo and her Italian hus-
band, Alfredo Antonio, the old Pelanconi House, built around 1855, which
was situated next to the old plaza in the middle of the new tourist destina-
tion.45 The restaurant, which opened in a building formerly owned by
Italians and served a style of Mexican food designed to please Anglo
tourists, was renamed La Golondrina, after Mexico's sentimental farewell
song. Like other Mexican restaurants of that time, the restaurant's name
made connections with sentimental romance and immigrant yearning.
The deportation and repatriation of as many as a million Mexicans,
which began in 1931 with a raid in La Placita, just yards from La Golon-
drina, initiated a frontal assault upon the Mexican presence in Los Angeles.46
The city would have to wait until the 1980s before it would witness a revival
of the Mexican community that would exceed the levels of cultural influ-
ence attained in 1930. But even at its height in the late 1920s, and for
decades afterward, the Mexican community in Los Angeles lacked the
power or focus to prevent the WASP elite from dominating the city's sym-
bolic economy. Aside from a handful of Spanish-language newspapers,
radio stations, recording studios, and assorted politically committed
media, the Mexican community relied upon popular cultural forms to con-
struct a sense of group identity and maintain control over neighborhood
cultural spaces.
That picture would change after the 1940s, when Mexican American
activists would begin to win important social victories in the local labor
movement and a few local elections during the 1950s. After the 1960s, these
modest gains would be bolstered by the emergence of Chicano political ac-
tivism, a burst of mainstream and grassroots book and magazine publish-
ing by and about Chicanes, the rapid expansion of Spanish-language tele-
vision, and the grudging admittance of a handful of Mexican journalists
into the mainstream English-language media.47 In East L.A., a resurgence of
Mexican cultural pride hastened the disappearance of "Spanish" restau-
rants. The numerous puestos (food stalls) of the First Street Mercado, the in-
troduction of pescaderias or seafood restaurants serving steaming bowls of
siete mares, Mexico City-styled taquerfas serving tacos al pastor, and birri-
erias serving slow-roasted kid would offer new spaces for the social con-
struction and expression of Chicano and Mexican identity. Neighborhood
eateries such as Manuel's Tepeyac in East L.A., La Golondrina in Olvera
Street, Lucy's El Adobe across the street from Paramount Studios, and
Barragan's and La Villa Taxco on Sunset Boulevard continued to serve as
third places for political discussion and deal making between an emerging
Mexican American middle-class political leadership and the Democratic
machine. Meanwhile, the spread of Mexican restaurants followed the
movement of Mexican Americans into the suburbs. Central and South
American restaurants would continue a slow but steady acquisition of cul-
tural space in the Pico-Union/Westlake area, Hollywood, and Echo Park.
Incremental increases in Latino political, economic, and media empower-
ment accompanied these conquests. But after the 1970s, the government
and media diluted them by reviving the term Hispanic and other aspects of
the "fantasy legacy."
The quality and quantity of the culinary publishing record, and the
subordinate role to which it assigned Mexican cuisine, illustrate the persis-
Restaurant on Fourth near Evergreen, circa 1930s. At that time, the term
Spanish was used instead of Mexican to describe the food. Photograph from
Shades of L.A., Los Angeles Public Library; reprinted by permission.
The local and regional media also romanticize the nation's growing
appetite for Mexican food as a premonition of multicultural communion.
Latino cultural critic Richard Rodriguez echoes both the imperial pose of
the nouvelle chefs (he describes Mexican cuisine as "peasant" cooking) and
the romance of multicultural culinary communion:
patronize the art market, endow the museums, subsidize the re-
gional institutes and planning schools, award the architectural
competitions, dominate the arts and urban design task forces, and
influence the flow of public arts monies. They have become so in-
tegrally involved in the organization of high culture, not because of
old-fashioned philanthropy, but because "culture" has become an
important component of the land development process.65
The city's style-setting restaurants, and the food writers who reviewed
them, played a prominent role in the "revalorization" of L.A. culture. The
critical infrastructure fostered the convergence of Hollywood-style glam-
our with poststructuralist "multicultural delectation." Prominent architects
if you were Hispanic," Bayless later told a writer.76 Another restaurant and
travel writer who has years of experience writing about Southern Cali-
fornia's restaurants recounted the case of a light-skinned Argentinian who
started working in the kitchen of a Los Angeles-area gay restaurant:
After about four days of working there, the owners told him, "You
are too good looking to work in the back." They turned him into
a waiter, then he went off to Citrus [the epitome of a Los Angeles
style-setting restaruant], where he's making hundreds of dollars.
It's indicative of what happens in all restaurants. He had a good
capacity to learn English. He was surrounded by busboys from
Mexico. The others were not learning English, while he was
aggressively learning English.77
Although Bayless and celebrity nouvelle chefs such as Wolfgang Puck
have trained and promoted Latinos to more creative and visible positions,
several structural factors explain why style-setting restaurants prefer to em-
ploy Latino immigrants in unskilled and less visible positions. First, the
celebrity chef and assisting sous and line chefs represent the biggest part of
the style-setting restaurant's kitchen labor costs. Industry insiders note that
restaurant owners do not spend money to increase the education or train-
ing of immigrant Latino workers, aside from the on-the-job training these
workers receive. And the language barrier between the skilled, generally
non-Latino chefs and the unskilled Latino dishwashers and busboys rein-
forces the social distance that separates these groups. Executive chefs tend
to handpick the other skilled staff from among their social peers, which in-
cludes colleagues with whom they have worked or trained at other elite or
style-setting restaurants.
A recent trend has further heightened the social bifurcation of skilled
and unskilled restaurant workers. Traditionally, most skilled restaurant em-
ployees received their training and experience on the job. Today, however,
the preferred pathway to becoming a style-setting chef begins with a uni-
versity degree, followed by vocational training in one of many European-
styled culinary academies and an apprenticeship in a style-setting kitchen.78
By contrast, few Latinos receive elite professional training, although they
represent the majority of Southern California's restaurant workforce. La-
tinos made up 10.4 percent of 556 students enrolled in the chef's program
at San Francisco's prestigious California Culinary Academy in 1996, com-
pared to 65.3 percent for white students and 13.3 percent for Asians.79 Even
this low percentage of Latinos receiving elite culinary educations repre-
sents a significant advance. More than a decade ago, the number of Latinos
1995 from Los Angeles Community College with vocational degrees in food
service management were identified as Latino; 36 percent of food service
management graduates were white, and 7.6 percent were listed as Asian.83
Advanced training in restaurant management, which offers another route
to the style-setting restaurant, again shows low Latino participation. Mexi-
can Americans graduating in 1996 from California State Polytechnic Univer-
sity, Pomona, with MBAs in hotel and restaurant management constituted
8.5 percent of the class, whereas whites made up 33 percent of the class.
Chinese students accounted for 20 percent of these graduates, and only 1.9
percent of the MBA recipients were listed as black.84
Granted, the bifurcation that typifies the style-setting restaurant is
more the exception than the rule in mid- to low-priced restaurant chains.
These mostly corporate-run restaurants offer slightly better pay, more op-
portunities for advancement, and greater economic stability and are more
egalitarian than the style-setting restaurants. And as second-generation
Latinos continue securing low- to mid-management positions and Latino
union representation increases, Latinos stand to increase their social influ-
ence within this sector. But the lack of occupational mobility for immi-
grant Latinos continues to limit their representational opportunities in
style-setting restaurants and the critical infrastructure. Although they make
up more than 22 percent of the nation's populace, Latinos represent only
2.6 percent of the nation's newspaper editorial staffs, 3.2 percent of radio
news staffs, and 6 percent of television news teams. In Los Angeles in 1990,
Latinos constituted 40 percent of the population but only 6.46 percent of
the Los Angeles Times news staff.85
Their near exclusion from the critical infrastructure and their struc-
tural subordination in the workplace articulate Latino restaurant workers'
functional relationship to the symbolic economy. The social relations of
restaurant production and the representation of Mexican cuisine mutually
constitute Latino immigrants as a subordinated workforce while normaliz-
ing the commercial and aesthetic appropriation of Mexican culture. Struc-
tural factors such as inadequate educational preparation discourage these
workers from effectively contesting the representation of their labor and
their cuisine inside the restaurant, while racialized media representations
of Mexican culture devalue immigrant restaurant workers in society at
large. This structural-cultural symbiosis explains why the Latino flavor of
Los Angeles—a city with a Mexican population second only to Mexico City,
with more than thirty thousand restaurants where Latino cooks prepare
myriad cuisines, and with a Latino workforce large enough to shut down
the city's restaurants if it stayed home—remains marginalized in the city's
culture wars.86