Monty's Good Burger is already an Iconic L.A staple

April 06, 2022

Monty’s Good Burger is not just a delectable, plant-based burger joint with five locations spanning across the Los Angeles region, but it is a sincere labor of love. Co-founder and all-around badass, Lexie Jayy, began her career in the music festival business, which led to the launch of the Girl Cult festival and podcast. An icon some would say in short.

Now, she has teamed up with Erin Swinfard to dedicate her time and energy into Monty’s, which first started out as a passion project — speaks for itself among the citizens of Los Angeles and celebrities alike. As veganism becomes more and more ubiquitous amongst the culinary community, access and visibility is the one thing that makes a shift from casual eating to a major lifestyle change. So in turn, Monty's does collaborations with known figures who have a passion for their lifestyle diet right. Successful past collabs include major musicians like Brockhampton, Vince Staples, YG, and now, Travis Barker adds to the roster of a coveted spot on their vegan hall of fame mural. Besides being a source of fulfilling major nourishment in food, they've also fulfilled that nourishment in community. While having their hands deep and dirty in community work, their efforts align closely with various non-profits like Support + Feed among many others.

Interview by Quinn Edlin
Photos by Davis Bates

Can you introduce yourself?

I'm Lexie, I'm co-founder of Monty's. Monty is my boyfriend and I's dog. We did not at all plan on Monty's being a real business to be completely honest. It was supposed to be a passion project; a cool side thing. I kind of reworked my whole life because of it, which has been amazing. It's interesting because you asked me to introduce myself. I'm a restaurant owner, but even four years in, I'm like, ‘whoa, how did that happen?’

Before this passion project existed, what were some of the largest parts of your identity?

I worked/ work in the live music space. I actually had a music festival and a podcast in partnership with Galore magazine called girl cult. It was like 2019, 2018. And it was kind of at the height of the intersectional feminist bubble. That was my life. That was my passion. But the feminist bubble, as well as the music festival bubble just got so watered down. And it just really felt like every corner I was turning there was like an H&M with some like BS, bubble gum, feminism slogan. Suddenly, I felt like a Starbucks cup. That naturally sort of dissolved; I don't wanna say my passion for it died because it didn't at all. I felt like the demand for people to learn stuff in an environment like that was dying out. Monty's was coming up as I felt like that part of my life was—I don't wanna say it's over. I'll definitely go back to that at some point. But we did what we had to do. It was beautiful. So many amazing connections were made.

How did Monty's become a real-life business?

It was a happy accident. My boyfriend's from Riverside and we spend a lot of time there He wanted to do something cool for his hometown, and it was right around the beginning of Impossible meat. So we had this idea of a burger store. He really missed in and out. We're both vegan. It's in one of those food courts.They wanted to have a grand opening with all the restaurants and we were (the only ones) ready. We kept hiring people and then we had nothing for them to do because we weren't allowed to open the restaurant. In an attempt to keep the amazing people that we were bringing on board, we just bring it to music festivals. We launched at Coachella. We did a whole summer of festivals. We did a popup in KTown and the popup went super well. The space we were in was like, "yo, there's a hot dog place, two doors down, they're going out of business, do you guys wanna take it over?" So we turned it around in less than a month. And then Riverside finally opened, and we had KTown, two weeks apart. We had a crazy summer and then, boom, two locations. We've been going ever since.

Hell yeah. Is there a head chef?

Our chef is Brian Fitzgerald. Nic Adler, another founder, has the real food experience. He started Eat/Drink/Vegan and Nic’s on Beverly. He's really well versed in the LA vegan food world. When we do have a new sauce, or we recently added our chicken sandwich, we have tastings. I've tried so many iterations of barbecue sauces, arguing about how this one's too sweet, and this one's too tangy. We are all so opinionated, which is amazing. I'm trying to have homies come in and just try the sauces, and I'm like, "no, rip it to shreds." It feels like running in circles sometimes. 'Cause it's like, I like this and you don't like it. And that's just, that's the problem here. I'm a chocolate person. You're a vanilla person. We're never going to be a hundred percent.

How has your life changed in these four years with Monty's?

I've learned a lot about myself. I've always worked with a lot of men, but in this, I've become unapologetic with my opinion. In the beginning it was really hard for me. I'd internalize a lot. I would not wanna step on anybody's toes. What the hell? This is my thing too. It's my dog for crying out loud. It's made me stronger, I've grown a lot with it in ways that I would've never anticipated. I trust myself a lot more than I did at the beginning, which is cool.

That's the raddest thing ever. Cheers to you. Any future visions and exciting plans for Monty's?

I want Monty’s to be in people's pantries and fridges. I don't want you to have to go to Monty's every time you want Monty’s. I'm brainstorming right now—trying to find space for us to exist in that world.

food

Land to Sea’s Personal History

The first generation children of families who immigrated to the U.S. from China and Hong Kong, respectively, Zhou And Shum grew up in the hustle and bustle of the food-service industry, gaining an understanding of and reverence for the cultural value of the kitchen table.

The name, derived from their parents’ journeys to the U.S., calls upon a similar experience for Zhou and Shum of leaving the security of solid ground behind, in pursuit of something more fluid, dynamic, and, ultimately, nourishing.

After forays in the fashion industry, the two came together with a dream to build something which would directly celebrate and serve its community, cultivating a space with an ethos that extends beyond its walls. Beyond their cafe, which boasts an impressive menu of coffee and tea selections brewed with Sey coffee and traditional Chinese pastries, the space hosts community events, art exhibitions, and food pop-ups as well.

The space itself is imbued with a sense of familiarity. The storefront is warm and woody, drenched in the natural light of an uncharacteristically sunny February day before sundown. The walls are adorned with personal ephemera, and carefully collected trinkets. The tables are papered with newspapers from Chinatown. At the far end of the room is a portal to what was once the backroom of the previous space, transformed by Zhou and Shum into a seating and event space reminiscent of a Hong Kong night market. Lit with a soft neon glow, the space feels like a memory passed through generations, touched by each mind who calls it into existence, taking on a new form each time.

During my visit to the Williamsburg cafe, we sit outside and take in the last hours of sun, squeezing four folding chairs around a wooden table. I warm my hands on a Hojicha Maple Latte and try (somewhat successfully) to stop myself from commenting on how good it is with every sip. A few regulars slip by, extending quick waves and warm smiles. Zhou and Shum greet them by name, building their Land to Sea family.

Pull up a chair to our conversation in the interview below and stop by Land to Sea at 402 Graham Avenue.

So how did the two of you meet and come up with the concept for this?

Emily Shum– We met in college. We went to FIT, [Eva] had just moved from Georgia. I had grown up in Brooklyn and lived in New York my whole life. We met in a product development course, but what was the task? To make a private label line?

Eva Zhou– Yeah. For an existing fashion brand. Yeah. So as this ages us, we were like, “let's do Urban Outfitters.” And our private label, I don't even remember, it was like soft grunge…grace?

ES– No, graceful grunge! That was our private label line.

EZ– So we had to come up with three pieces and kind of like develop it from start to finish. Even design it. But, to pick partners, the professor was just kind of like “half of the room stand on this side of the wall, and this side on that side. And now pick your partners. Choose someone you don't know.” We honestly didn't know anyone in that class. And we kind of just made eye contact, like, “Oh, my God, POC-POC.” All right, we're buddies now. And the rest is history.

ES– I feel like we had always been friends. Despite how different we were, I feel like we always kind of came together with similar ideas and what we wanted to do in our lives and our values. We had always spoken about opening up a business, doing something outside of fashion. And both of our families kind of had that kind of career trajectory. My family is in food service. Your family was in food service. So it seemed kind of natural. One day Eva just kind of FaceTimed me. We were like peak pandemic lockdown for? I don't know, it must have been like over a year and a half at that point. I had switched jobs, like three times and was going through a crisis. And she just FaceTimes me. She was like, “should we do it?” And we did it. Yeah, we started immediately.

What was said on that FaceTime?

EZ– I literally FaceTimed her and she answered it and like, no context given: “Do you wanna start a business together?” No questions asked she said, “Yes. Now what?”

ES– Because I think in our brains, we always kind of knew what it would look like, we always kind of knew it would be like, food-beverage centered, like a safe space for creators. Something we talked about a lot was how space was kind of a commodity in New York. It was hard to come by a place where people could just gather and share their work and hang out. We went through many different iterations of what the name would be, what the concept would be. But what we always knew was that it would be a place for others, not just ourselves. We knew the feelings we wanted to convey, which were nostalgia, romance, feeling like home.

We always knew was that it would be a place for others, not just ourselves. We knew the feelings we wanted to convey, which were nostalgia, romance, feeling like home.

So tell me about the name.

ES- We were sitting outside of Win Son bakery. Okay, and we're talking and I had a drawing of a weird layout for the shop.

EZ– It was purely like spitballing and we're like, Okay, what kind of conveys like the journey our parents made with all those feelings of them, like coming from one country to another, laying down their roots, and making sure that our culture was still very much prevalent in our daily lives here. So we were just tossing out words like “so they went across like an ocean, boats, water, bridges, mountain, no.” Then we were like “land sea, sea to land, land to sea and it was just like okay, that's it.”

ES– Yeah, it was. It was also quite vague, which is kind of ambiguous, right? Like even now people kind of look in and they’re like “What is this? Not totally sure.” But I think that's the point. We're very fluid in how we use the space. We're very fluid and like, you know, even our menu changes often.

EZ– I will say, though, people that relate to our histories, yeah, if their parents immigrated. And people that don't relate, they're like, is it a sushi restaurant?

ES– Yeah. It was also meant to be kind of dramatic and romantic.

How do romance and timelessness come through in the space?

ES– My family's from Hong Kong. Well, my mom is from Hong Kong. I grew up speaking Cantonese. I grew up eating Cantonese food and cuisine. Eva's family. They're from China. So we kind of touched upon a lot of their experiences. I asked my mom a lot about her childhood, about her growing up when building this space, and we worked with interior designer Jeremy Son to bring it all together. I think that when walking through this space, we've tried to pay a lot of attention to detail. The green grids, it's a Hong Kong tram green, the wood tones are all kind of reminiscent of this film that we love. It’s this Hong Kong film named In the Mood for Love by Wong Kar-Wai.

EZ– I think that we drew a lot of inspiration from that film in general. Something that we don't talk about often is kind of like our family histories–mine from China, her’s from Hong Kong. And that tension in between those, how Hong Kong wants to be independent. China wants to claim them. But I think the beauty is that our family histories and where they come from, that historical conflict doesn't matter here. Us being in America and bringing our two different cultures here. It's kind of a beautiful thing. Like we've started a fresh new kind of relationship.

What was your home like growing up? How did it smell? How did it sound? How is it echoed in this space?

EZ– Why did I automatically think of my mom yelling?

ES– Yeah, right? No, I felt like Mahjong tiles shuffling, smoke in the air-type vibe. Yeah, yeah. I grew up with my dad chain-smoking. I remember, whenever we would have family parties, I would fall asleep to the sounds of like Mahjong tiles because all the adults would be up gambling. I grew up in South Brooklyn, in New York. So we would go to these big parlor-style Chinese restaurants. And people would be yelling and screaming, but there would be tables of like, 15 with shared family-style dishes. And more than anything, I think those moments were defining, like food is so communal, you know. Food is what I define my childhood with.

EZ– I used to eat pork floss buns as a kid–we have them in the shop–but it’s dried pork on top of like a sweet cream in between one bread but has like a slit on the side and it’s sweet and savory. It's really, really good.

ES– Yeah, my mom used to with the bolo baos that we have. She used to, like poke holes into them and stick a chunk of butter in it and , give that to us as a snack. As a kid, my grandma would do that for me up until it's like 15 years old. So it was really beautiful to see my mom do it, and my grandma do it. It's kind of like something passed down, and I get to do it for a wider audience now, which is really cool. We opened at a very strange time, right, we opened right at the end of what felt like a very long prison sentence for everyone. And we kind of had built land to see after being isolated for several years at that point. So everything for us is about togetherness. Our original plan was to do, and what we're back to starting to do now is one art one food pop up a month. Currently, we have an art exhibition. So kind of being able to be a platform for the small creators that maybe not don't have access to have their own.

EZ– We also are trying to do more workshops. But we are expanding like in terms of what kind of mediums we want to host so we do want to do more film screenings, maybe poetry nights. We're working on that one for the summer, after outdoor barbecues. Yeah, we’re maybe planing on putting on a bunch of different things. Just to make it, whatever it needs to be. We want to keep it fluid.

How did you select the space, and make it your own?

ES– We've done the work to make it feel like home. When we first signed the lease and got the keys, we had my mom in here to cleanse the space like spiritually to make it ours. Since then, I don't know personally, I just feel like ever since then I felt at home here. Yeah. And you know, even when we were building the shop and it was dirty and disgusting, I still felt at home in here.

EZ– Yeah, we got lucky though. Because we inherited a lot of components like the drop down ceilings, the wood flooring, the brick wall, but it just feels completely different with how we did it. Yeah, this door, this back area here was like their back room. So it was separated by a barn door but we made it public facing. It's interesting how just a few little things like light fixtures and just who we are, can completely change the space. And everyday I'm surprised by the kindness of our neighbors and the people that are in here and like we're so happy you're here and like just our regulars we know their names. We know their orders, we know their dog's names. It genuinely feels very close and warm here.

How does that big family feeling you had at home translate here?

ES– This whole space is just about kind of coming together. I mean, even when, you know, a lot of these artists, we didn't know them beforehand. They've become part of the fantasy collective. So it just feels like a constantly growing family. I grew up with in a house with like, 10 different people. So, you know, this connection, it’s like a tree that keeps on growing.

EZ– In Chinese culture, even if you're not related to someone, you call someone by “Auntie, Uncle, Big Brother, Big Sister” kind of thing. We don't call our customers like “Hey Auntie” but we always make sure that we're friendly and that they feel warm and welcome here, whoever they are. Also like seeing some people come in and being like, it's really nice to see some of the pastries I grew up with being displayed here gives me a sense of hope. Removing myself, I feel like other people come here and feel that sense of family. They bring their friends here.

Like they have their own sense of family here outside of us, which I think is really beautiful. With space being such a commodity in New York, how have you made the shop feel big in intimate ways? I think it's mostly like a mindset. If you accept it as like a fluid space, it can be that in however way we have limits. We have so many limitations here too. But we work with what we have.

ES– The openness, in a more technical sense, really comes through in the “portal” we have to the second room. A lot of times people will come in and be like, I thought that was a painting bag. They're like, I didn't know this was a space you can explore and go into. I created an alternate universe type of coffee shop, because people don't immediately see the space and think of it as a coffee shop energy. But like we are designer and good friend, had a lot of really good ideas to kind of make this immersive experience that we're working to build this like Portal to this night market, Temple St., Wong Kar Wai film type space, is something I think that we intentionally did to open up the space.

EZ– I think this main space definitely gives off a warm kind of like at home feeling. Kind of like the romantic vibe of like "In the Mood for Love." This corner specifically has the most reference to that. This red curtain is actually a direct inspiration from one scene where it's like they're walking down this hallway and it's like red curtains. And then just like the intimate pendant coming down, and then the back is more like the night market. There's this really famous night market in Hong Kong called Temple Street. And it's just like booths and booths and different clothing, food, all these different things. And people are all seated on like little red stools. And it's also reminiscent of all the China towns we grew up in.

When was the last time you went home, and how did it feel?

ES– I went to Hong Kong with my family in 2017 or 18. A lot has happened in Hong Kong since I saw a family out in Hong Kong, I still talk to them regularly. I haven't been able to go back but I feel like after this experience going back to Hong Kong is going to be a different kind of experience for me. You know, guaranteed I'm going to be working for most of it because I'll just be taking photos and mood boarding. But once everything cools down there I really want to see my great aunt. She is about 80. She's turning 81 this year. God bless her soul, so I really want to see her. I just really missed the food out there. You really miss the energy from Hong Kong. Everything is so compact. You know, I used to think New York City was compact. Hong Kong is on a different level. So I just missed that kind of energy.

EZ– My grandpa beats your grandma, he's 91. I remember, in order to spend time with him, I would have to go by his house and he would wake up at like six in the morning and go to the actual morning markets too. And you can get bags of food to bring home and eat for breakfast. So we would do that. I missed that food.

ES– When I go back, it's really strange because I think my Cantonese is quite good. My grandma raised me, because my mom was working a lot growing up. So I lived with my grandma, and my aunt, and my uncle David, like three cousins and my grandpa and like a bunch of people. So whenever I go back, it's weird because it feels like home. But it's very apparent that I'm not from there, you know? So it's like, I'm home. And I'm also observing these people and their cultures. You know? So, for me, it's like, still about learning. You know, I have a lot to learn. Exploring my traditions, and my culture and my history from the other side of the planet has been a bit strange.

How does it feel coming back to New York, and to Land to Sea?

ES– It feels like home?

EZ–Yeah, like home, honestly.

ES– kind of built it with our parents advising us and they've been in the space and we've spent so many nights and days and hours here. And I brought gifts from my parents, like the plants. We have family pictures hanging on the shelf. It very much feels like this whole space was like a love letter, you know, to our parents. So even if it isn't necessarily our upbringing, like being able to mimic their stories growing up feels very within my own self, my own spirit. Like, the green feels very familiar to me, for example, these wood tones feel very familiar to me. These newspapers feel very–

EZ– The round tables are very important in Chinese culture to kind of express shared meals. So we knew we wanted that too. And I think that in general everything was very intentional in how we designed it to feel comfortable.

Where do the two of you come through in the space as well?

EZ– I think picking out the pieces and putting it all together. My parents' restaurant didn’t look like this. But we're both representing the same thing.

ES– There are little touches here and there, like the lucky cat was given to me by my cousin, that calendar my aunt gave me. Everything was passed down some way. Well not everything, but a lot of things were passed down somehow. We try to shop in Chinatown. The light pendants are from Chinatown. Our little antique mugs are from China Town. So I think that everything is something that has touched the both of us somehow.

To me, the name Land to Sea reminded me of starting somewhere solid, and moving towards a place that is more fluid. That’s not really a question…

ES– No, I understand the question. I literally understand this. Yes, exactly. That’s exactly the way to explain it. because the thing is, we could not draw, draw the concept from anywhere, right? Like, there was no exact place or business we could reference. So when figuring out a business plan, the model, like how things are gonna work. Like we kind of did it all like from scratch, you know, like, we didn't have a reference point. And luckily enough, we've had creators that have really embraced us and like, embrace the fact that we're all learning together.

Are there any upcoming events you’re looking forward to?

EZ– Throughout April we’ll be featuring an exhibition by Elaine Shen, “the end of the beginning.” Which we’re really excited about, because it’ll be Elaine’s solo debut. She works with knitting, stitching, sewing, netting and sculpture and the exhibition plays on the paradoxes and tensions between how things can be presented and perceived in totally opposite ways.

ES– Also, during the 23rd and 24th we’ll be featuring a pastry offering by Kuih Cafe which is this small hole-in-the-wall spot in Chinatown that was started by a mother and daughter. They'll bring in different Malaysian bites and pastries.

food

Eating Our Way to the Heart with Magdalena O'Neal

March 23, 2022

Julia Childs was right when she said, "people who love to eat are always the best people."

There are few things better for fostering a connection with people than sitting down at a dinner table and eating together. Moments like sharing family recipes or exploring new cuisines can create memories with others that last a lifetime. Taking time to set the table, put away our phones, and talk, are simple pleasures that seem to escape us these days.

And while that becomes second nature, the more difficult but rewarding side of cooking comes from experimenting in the kitchen, perfecting a recipe you have been working on for some time. So, to encapsulate the feelings and cherished moments that have escaped us, office sat down with Magdalena O'Neal, the Assistant Editor at Sunset Magazine, to discuss her love of cooking and conduct a photo diary of what a usual chef session with her and her loved ones look like.

Interview by Oona Oglesby
Photos by Emilie Wilde
Recipe by Magdalena O'Neal

For this piece, food was accompanied by a group of our friends while we sat around her grandparent's dining table. We discussed everything from their love of an impromptu dinner party, finding new restaurants, and what a bummer it is when a favorite spot becomes overrun with too many people you don't want to introduce to your mother.

The magic of a dinner party was put to the test when this meal saw two groups of people, all living in the same city but meeting for the first time.

Find below instructions on how to make her most-loved pasta dish.

So I'd love to know how you first got into cooking.

Cooking has always been a defining part of my life; I can't explain why, but I have gravitated towards it ever since I was little. My parents noticed how much I loved it as I got older, so they started sending me to after-school cooking classes and summer cooking camps. I'd do Mexican cooking classes, butter making classes, just whatever kind of class I could find I was taking. I woke up super early when I was young, at like 4 am, and my dad taught me how to turn on the TV. I knew the Food Network was channel 55, so I would sit and watch the cooking shows every morning before school for hours. My love for cooking quickly became an integral part of my character. My mom was also a huge foodie, and all of her friends were some of the most incredible chefs in the Bay Area, so growing up, I would always cook with them when they had dinner parties. As I got older, I started to bring things to the dinners, a side dish or dessert.

When I was 14, I got a summer internship at this super famous restaurant in the bay called Chez Panisse. It was founded by Alice Waters, one of the pioneers of the farm-to-table movement. It's all about sourcing food locally and always getting fresh ingredients. It's one of the most inspiring food institutions in the Bay Area. I worked there for a month, and it completely changed my relationship with food. It made me want to cook more, it taught me to value the ingredients I used differently than ever before, and it also taught me how to differentiate between qualities of ingredients. I grew up going to my local farmers' market with my parents, but I always took it for granted, it was all I knew, so I didn't understand how lucky I was to constantly get to eat and use such fresh and local ingredients.

During my internship, I mainly worked with pastries. I would go home every day so inspired. I would experiment and make all the different things that I had learned that day. I got really into baking after finishing my internship and got a job at a pie shop. I met this amazing woman who started a pie shop called Pietisserie; she was 28, one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. I wanted to be just like her; she taught me so much, I still do work for her when I am home.

It's great that you found something you were so passionate about early in life. When did writing come into play?

I always wanted to be a writer, and then one day, I realized the two could intersect. Why couldn't I write about food? I have already made it; I know so much about the ins and outs of kitchens and cooking. I am always trying to teach people, to engage them excitingly.

Food is, obviously, such a universal thing. Everyone has to eat! As someone from a foodie family, why do you think mealtime is so crucial to fostering connections with people?

So many of my earliest memories are based around meals. I can remember what I ate; I can remember what was on the table, who made it, who was there. When I ate with my grandma in Berkeley, she would turn the lights down, set the candles up, close the blinds, and we'd have dinner and catch up. No phones were allowed, and we'd talk to each other. I feel like that relationship with mealtime is something that when you have, it makes such a huge difference in your life.

It also makes having to sit down meals so much more meaningful when you aren't able to have them all the time. Now that I'm older and I have this chosen family in my friends who also love food as much as me, we do dinner parties. Or if we don't want to eat, we go out to a fun restaurant, and that's our moment to congregate and catch up and see what's going on in each other's lives. We love to experiment with food, so one good thing about going out is that it allows us to try different cuisines. We get to taste and learn about other people through our food. I think this unforgettable moment can happen when you're around a table with people, and you can connect over a meal. It is so heartfelt whether or not you intend it to be. If I make you something from scratch and you eat it, we are forming a connection.

Whether or not you grew up with a relationship to food the way I did, or you have someone in your life that cooks for you, you can feel that sense of care when you eat a good home-cooked meal. I think there's so much good, especially community healing, that can happen through food and supporting spaces like the farmer's market or community gardens.

Backtracking to something you touched on earlier, you mentioned going to the farmers market growing up. Do you think that shaped your relationship, not only to food but to the ingredients in food?

Especially when I got to LA, and I've only been here for three years, I felt like I almost lost my footing cooking for myself. I got caught up in the LA culture of going out to eat with my friends. It was something we wanted to do every weekend. Then I had this moment where I realized I never cooked anymore, and the people around me who I was close to had no idea I knew how to cook at all. I was like, oh, this is crazy that you guys don't see this thing that's such a massive part of my life that's so important to me. I had that realization when my mom was here, so we just started going to the LA farmer's markets together.

I began to have those same experiences that I had as a kid, touching things and getting so excited about all the options. My friends always want to come with me to the farmer's market. They're always asking questions like how do you know what's good and why do you shop at this booth and not that one. I think that what's interesting about our age demographic, people are interested in food, but they don't know how to further that interest. It's not like painting where you're like, okay, I'll get a canvas and paint or making music where you might get in the studio and figure it out. If you cook and don't use something you bought, it's discouraging.

If you go to the farmer's market and buy things, and you don't use them, you feel bad. People get in their heads about wasting food and money or having an ingredient and not knowing how to make it work with other things you have in the kitchen. I want to teach people that it's okay to mess up. I want people to see that sometimes all you need to do is make a few minor adjustments, and a whole new world will open up to you.

Aside from your writing, how do you teach that in your day-to-day life?

For one, I take my friends to the farmer's market, and I'm like, here's your $40? What are you going to get? If you're going to buy that, what are you going to do with it? I try to remind them to make a plan before going in. People underestimate the value of a list. I want my friends and anyone who reads my work to understand the beauty of simple things. It goes back to things I learned at Chez Panisse. They taught me how to value ingredients, find ways to use everything, and ensure that nothing ever went to waste. The chef once gave me a blueberry, and she said, 'taste this.' And I was like, oh, that's good. Then she handed me another, and I was like, that's phenomenal. It was the best blueberry I had ever had in my life. She had picked those two blueberries out of an entire carton of them.

She taught me how to differentiate between the good and the amazing with look, smell, and touch. It takes time, and it's something you have to figure out, but the process of learning can be so fun. I will pick up a peach at the market and make my friends feel it and smell it. I point out how one is just slightly better than the other. Soon it just becomes second nature to them, and that's such a fantastic thing to watch happen.

That must be so amazing to witness.

It is! It's also interesting to see how people gravitate towards how my friends and I relate to food. My friends Siya, Ash, and I started to have these dinners every so often where we would try and empty our fridges. We would come together and experiment and try and make things work with what we had leftover from the past week. It started to turn into a whole thing where people would hear we were making dinner, and they would want to come. And even if they didn't have any food to bring, they would bring wine or cheese, something to contribute to the evening. Even with tonight, I saw one of my friends the other day, and she was like, 'I hear you're having a dinner party, and I wasn't invited.' People always want to come to dinner. They want to gather and be with others around good food, especially after the past two years. There's something about being in your early to mid-twenties and having an excellent home-cooked meal away from home. It brings people together while also returning them to pivotal moments in their lives.

In my opinion, a home-cooked meal always tastes the best!

Exactly! We're at my maternal grandmother's house right now, but my paternal grandma lives in the Bay Area. I grew up in Oakland, and my parents were super young. They were 26 when they had me. So she stepped in a lot, picked me up from school, took me to her house for dinner, and we'd do these more average family things like sit down at a table to eat. You know my mom was 30 and she was always like, let's do this thing, let's go to this art gallery in San Francisco, then we'll go out to this pub, and we'll have grilled cheeses together. And growing up with these young parents was unique and fun, but it was nice to do these more mundane familial things with my grandma.

My grandma is a fantastic cook, and I would also ask her why she wasn't a chef why she wasn't opening a restaurant. I always just assumed that that's what people who cook well do! And she always would look at me and say, 'if I did it like that, I would hate it, and I wouldn't want to do it for you guys.' I think that's why I hid the fact that I cooked for so long. I felt that cooking was only for people that you love. I thought it would lose its magic if I did it for other people. Then I had a moment when I realized I don't just need to love you to cook for you. Cooking for other people helps the magic grow for me. Don't get me wrong, I cook amazing dinners for people. I got my man by cooking him a fantastic dinner! They aren't wrong when they say a way to a man's heart is through their stomach, but then again, I think the way to anyone's heart is through their stomach.

I feel like it's fair to say that food has been a way people have fostered community connection since people started making food. I'd love to know why you think that is.

I think the idea of community has shifted in recent years. So many creatives use this kind of bartering system to get inspiration or share things with others. My friends are continually trading stuff with each other. Oh, I'll shoot this thing if you can help me with this set for another thing I'm doing, you know, continually trading skills. I always thought food didn't factor into that, but then I started posting what I was making, and people were reaching out and saying can I have some cookies for this thing in return? My tattoo artist is my really good friend, and I trade her edibles for tattoos. I'll make her a whole tray of fudge with around a thousand milligrams of THC. And that's super-valuable to her because she's like, it tastes fantastic, and I'm stoned. The purpose is served. I have another friend who does my nails, and she was like, I'll give you a set if you make me a whole carrot cake.

That's amazing. I told Emilie, "look, I can't pay you in money, but I can pay you in really great food!"

Exactly! I also think it's like one of the huge things for me with food is the intention. I believe in any creative field, and I especially think writers have this kind of skill to sit back and acknowledge everything. When I start writing a story, my intro is setting the stage. Right? I'm setting the scene, and food is kind of like that. As a writer, you put it all on the page, and with food, it's the same thing. I want to destigmatize this idea that food has to be expensive, it has to be Michelin star, or it has to be so good you wipe the plate down clean. It doesn't have to be that extravagant. You can go to the farmer's market, get one bag, and feed ten people.

And you are probably cooking one of the better dinners people have had in a long time! Going back to your point about using the ingredients in the fridge, especially in America, the amount of food waste is unimaginable. Whether it be leftovers or something you forgot in the back of the refrigerator, developing a better relationship and understanding of food helps reduce that, right?

Exactly. That's also why I started posting my food on Instagram. I wanted to show people that you can have this random mix of ingredients and still make something unforgettable. Even today, I made herb oil this morning, and while yes, we bought herbs today, I had herbs from last week that were a bit brown. Instead of throwing them away, I blanch them, put them in an ice bath, blend them with oil, strain it, and it'll last you three weeks. It tastes like fresh herbs and helps you reduce waste. It was fun to start experimenting with making things last. If I have leftover mushrooms, I can sauté them, get them crispy, and then I can freeze them, or I can put them in the fridge in the last for four more days.

I like making things stretch, but I also think going to the farmer's market has made me wanna do that more. Like the mushroom guy, I build these relationships with people at the farmer's market. He remembers me now, I come to him every week, and I can't lie, I'm going to feel bad if I go next week, and I know I threw away those mushrooms or let them go bad.

It's building a relationship with the ingredients and the people who bring those ingredients!

Exactly! By building relationships with the people, you get your food from reducing separation from product and person. There's this super weird separation when you go to the grocery store, and you have like to make all these decisions by yourself, and you're in the produce section like, well, do I want this tomato or that one? What's the difference? But I go to the farmer's market, and I'm like, what's a cherimoya. And she's like, oh, it's like this, and we're smelling guavas together. You know?

You are also always getting to learn new things along the way.

Yes. I think bringing an educational level to food and ingredients will change everything for people. We must care about where our food comes from and have some knowledge about getting it from the farm to our tables.

What would you tell someone who is just starting their cooking journey?

So one of the big stories I do for Sunset is our food and drink newsletter every Monday, and a lot of the pieces I do are for home cooks. One thing that helped me find my footing when I started my cooking journey was subscribing to a newsletter, which is not a push for my work. I like the New York times food newsletter, and they send it two or three times a week. You get it on Sunday night, and it tells you what to cook for the start of the week. Then they send another one during the week, and they just lay out a menu for you. It says on Monday, make this on Tuesday, and it takes the stress off of trying to think of things to cook. If you know you're going to be busy on Wednesday, you can go through the newsletter and pick an easy meal for that night, or you can make something on Tuesday that you know will hold up for a night or two.

I would also say that Google is your best friend. I roasted a few beats earlier today for our charcuterie spread, and I had the beat greens leftover. I didn't just want to throw them away, so I went and Googled, what to do with beat greens, and made some beat green chips! If you like mushrooms, you can look up mushroom recipes or 20 things to do with mushrooms, and you're probably going to find at least six things you'll love. Another thing I also write that I like for beginners especially is what to cook this month. So I write that every month and add recipes that consist of things in season.

This month was all about winter citrus, grapefruit, blood orange, Meyer lemons. So I have a recipe for how you can make a roast chicken with Meyer lemons and rice or potatoes underneath it—using one ingredient across like many things is beneficial because it builds confidence with that one thing. I believe that it's mostly about taking it slowly. Learning basics developing an understanding of what flavors you like, start with making a portion of a meal that you want, and you can get the rest premade. If you like the premade ravioli from Trader Joe's, which are so good, make your sauce. Start with something small that isn't a real meal cause that can be intimidating.

Start slow!

Exactly. And look, I think people forget this with cooking. You're going to eat every day. You have to eat every single day. So if there's something you want, make it! Learn and know that you might mess up, but it will be better next time!

Recipe note: I use recipes as suggestions almost always so don’t hold yourself to my quantities. If you want it saltier, add salt, creamier, add more cream—make sure it tastes just right to your liking! And always taste everything as you go so you know what flavors you like more than others.

Creamy Pasta with Crispy Mushrooms and Herb Oil:

Herb Oil:

1 bunch fresh parsley

1 bunch fresh chives

1 bunch fresh oregano

1 cup grapeseed oil

Pasta:

¼ cup olive oil

½ cup butter cubed

4 cups oyster mushrooms, cut into 1-inch pieces

salt and pepper, to taste

1 lb. dry pasta

1 cup heavy cream

½ cup creme fraiche

4 cloves fresh garlic, chopped into large chunks

1 cup parmesan, grated

Start by making the herb oil:

In a pot of boiling water blanch each of the herb bundles until bright green—about 1 minute each. Transfer herbs to a bowl filled with ice water to cool. Once all of the herbs are blanched and cooled add them to a high-powered blender with grapeseed oil. Blend for a few minutes until it changes from light green to a deep emerald color, it’s okay if the blender gets hot. Set a fine-mesh sieve over a bowl and pour herb mixture into it. Set aside and let the oil drip through while you prepare your pasta, or if you’re in a hurry, press it through gently with a wooden spoon.

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. In a large saucepan, heat ¼ cup of butter and olive oil. Once butter is melted, add mushrooms and stir gently to coat evenly in oil, add salt and pepper to taste. Leave mushrooms to cook for about 8 minutes, tossing as they begin to brown on each side and get fragrant (you’ll want them to get crispy like chips).

Add pasta to boiling water and let cook while mushroom finish. Once pasta is done, be sure to remove ½ cup of water from the pot before draining. When the mushrooms are evenly crisped and a deep golden brown color, remove from the pan with a slotted spoon and place onto a plate lined with a paper towel. In the pot the pasta was cooked in add the remaining butter, heavy cream, creme fraiche, and garlic, let come to a low simmer, stirring consistently.

As the butter melts the mixture should thicken slightly. Add a few heavy grinds of fresh pepper and salt to taste. Once the cream mixture begins to reduce, add in the cooked pasta, reserved pasta water, and half of the parmesan cheese. Stir together over medium-low heat until thick and cheese is melted. If the sauce is still a bit thin, add remaining parmesan cheese to thicken.

Once done, remove from heat and spoon pasta in a serving bowl. Discard the pulp left from the herbs and drizzle the oil that remains on top of the pasta to taste. Sprinkle the crispy mushrooms on top and serve while hot.

Little Gems Salad with Herb Oil Dressing and Quick-Pickled Shallots

3 heads of little gem lettuce

½ acorn squash, thinly sliced

2 Tbsp. olive oil salt and pepper to taste

2 shallots, thinly sliced

½ cup apple cider vinegar

1 Tbsp. sugar

1 bunch Italian parsley, roughly chopped

1 bunch chives, finely chopped

4 Tbsp. herb oil

1 lemon

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

Preheat oven to 400℉. Toss sliced squash pieces in olive oil with salt and pepper. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes or so until tender and soft. When tender, remove from oven and let cool. Add sliced shallots, apple cider vinegar. salt, pepper, and sugar to a bowl, mix to combine.

Let sit for 10-15 minutes. Cut off the bottom of each little gem head and remove the leaves gently. Rinse and dry in a salad spinner or on a board lined with paper towels. Place lettuce on a serving platter and toss it together with parsley and chives using your hands.

To make the dressing, add herb oil, juice of one lemon, mustard, salt, and pepper to a jar. Shake to combine all the ingredients together and spoon over the lettuce and herb mixture. Place roasted squash slices on top of the dressed salad along with the shallots (draining the pickling mixture beforehand), top with salt and pepper, and serve.

food

Mina Stone Cooks for the Artist that Lives Within Us

Chef Stone's food is sweet to the eye and satiating to the soul. Take a look at what she's up to below:

Mina Stone, why don't you introduce yourself?

Where should I start? I've been cooking for a long time. I started in the world of fashion. I went to prep for fashion. I wanted to be a fashion designer since I was a little girl. My mother is Greek, my dad is from Ohio. I grew up with a lot of Greek food in my life and went back and forth to Greece. I always knew and enjoyed cooking.

I graduated from Pratt and I wanted to start my line and I thought, ‘well, okay, how can I support myself while I'm making my clothes? My clothes aren't going to make me enough money.’

It was a really interesting time in New York City where the independent designer was sort of—celebrated and sought out. It was a very fun time to be a designer. And I met wonderful people. I started just doing any cooking job I could get. So, I cooked for a family in Manhattan, two to three times a week, and I learned a lot about food. Like, ‘oh, you should have a Christmas party. Let me cook for it.’

At one of those parties, I met the director of Gavin Brown's enterprise. He had his gallery in the west village at the time. I didn't know anything about the art world. She asked me if I wanted to cook a dinner for 40 people. And I said “No, thanks. That's crazy.’ Long story short, I thought about it, and I did it. That was the start of me cooking at Gavin's for many years. And then I met Urs Fisher, the other artist I cooked for many years through his gallery.

In 2010, Urs was like, ‘Nina, do you wanna make a cookbook together?’ and I was like, ‘Yes.’ We worked on my first cookbook called Cooking for Artists. Published that in 2015. I opened up the restaurant at PS1 in 2019. Um, and that was just really, I guess I had just been in their periphery. It’s funny now, that first cooking gig. I did for Gavin's, but I was like, ‘No, no, no, no, no.’ I'd never wanted to have a restaurant before. I've always sort of assumed that how I cook and my ethos around food is, is almost like the opposite of a restaurant.

What is your ethos around food, and does running Mina’s align with it?

My ethos is that [food] is this very easy form of education. You eat a dish from a different country and you end up learning so much without even really realizing it. You connect with people. That's what I'm into these days. I could eat something, I could learn something, I could make a dish, share it with somebody else, and they would learn something. You get to do that all while being like, ‘Oh, this is delicious!’ It's been a bit of a journey. It started with this feeling of, I don't think I ever really wanna have a restaurant. I thought something would always get lost in the food. No matter how well-intentioned the chef was, something gets lost in the hustle of what it takes to run a restaurant. I'm not wrong. I've seen it myself. It's very hard to make a living, it's very hard to be spontaneous. There is a tight ship in place at the back of the house. I am very passionate about really simple food and home cooking. That is exciting. Having a grandma's food. There's like some magic to it. And so that's why I was like, ‘oh, restaurants are not for me.’ Something I think about a lot is that combination in your stomach. That's the difference between a restaurant and home cooking as well, is that everything's meant to be eaten together at one meal, and it's also going to work with your body. I've been eating lunch at the restaurant with friends and have a whole spread. And I like that challenge of sitting down with the entire menu on the table and thinking like, does everything work together? How would I feel?

What was it like for you, to jump into running a restaurant?

The first word that comes to mind is that it was a nightmare. Yeah. A nightmare. It was very challenging. We were working our butts off, and we were also running a catering and we were running the festival. So it was a huge undertaking. And then, you know, we shut down. Because of COVID, we were open to a limited crowd, and we could only use a limited budget, with limited staff. I had to make it under those conditions. I'm proud of our menu today. Everything is very careful; It’s apt for the museum setting. There's an equilibrium to our menu.

Congratulations on Lemon Love and Olive Oil. Where do you find pockets of inspiration and the desire to develop a recipe? What does creating something new look like for you?

It's largely unconscious. The first book and the second book were very minimally staged. Like, we made all of the food because we ate it. I ended up gauging the recipes that went in the book as something I've made over and over again, and those recipes just lead to something else. I start altering a salad until it ends up being a different salad, or I eat something delicious in Greece, and then I try to recreate it to my sensibility. It keeps changing. I realize that it's happening right now because I'm changing the menu at the cafe, and I've been thinking a lot about all of the pies that Greek people make. I look at the seasonal availability of our fruits and vegetables, and I'm like, ‘Okay, they're bringing zucchinis from California. They're really sweet and delicious. So I'm gonna make a zucchini pie, but I've never made this before. Hmm.’ But, I am not an ingredients nerd. I don't like a certain dogma about grocery shopping. Even though I’m educated about sustainability, I don't want to only go to the farmer's market. If I go up the street to my regular bodega, with the people who I know, and to have that exchange is almost if not more meaningful. It's like an ecosystem.

Do you have a certain meal that you turn towards to tuck into the joy of cooking?

This is what both me and my mother make to console either each other or ourselves. The Greek word for it is Me Kima. It's Greek Ragu over pasta, but it's with cinnamon and cloves and so delicious. Greek cheese or Parmesan. Except for tonight, it's changing: little Greek meatballs with egg, a ton of fresh mint, and grated onions. You fry them, and then you do hand-cut French fries on the side. I grew up with these. Minty meatballs and hand-cut French fries.

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