Remembering Jonathan Gold

I was immensely saddened last night to learn of the untimely passing of Jonathan Gold. I regret never meeting him, but we shared a love of food and of our city, and Los Angeles will not be the same without his intelligent, insightful guidance on our dynamic food scene. As a regular guest on the KCRW “Good Food” podcast with Evan Kleiman, his voice was a regular guest in my car. His column in the LA Times food section was the first thing I would consume on Saturday mornings. Los Angeles has become one of the most vibrant food scenes in the world, and if any one person could claim credit for making that happen, Jonathan would be a top contender. This vast and dynamic city, fueled by the confluence of streams of human migration from the south and the east, a megalopolis of ethnic pockets, ever-transitioning neighborhoods, and cultural mash-ups, has a staggering array of food cultures on offer that can be bewildering and overwhelming. Jonathan provided us a map. For his avid readers, he inspired us to visit unfamiliar neighborhoods, enter establishments sometimes beyond our comfort zone, persevere past menus in languages we couldn’t always read, and put things in our mouths we never dreamt of before (but would dream of after). When he started writing, food critics generally only paid attention to white table cloth, mostly French or “Continental” restaurants, measuring shortness against a particular idea of perfection, their prose often filled with attitude and the caustic cleverness of a Scalia dissent. Jonathan smashed that mold. While he appreciated and lauded the finest high-end restaurants, he could find equal appreciation and praiseworthiness in the craft of an immigrant who sells street corn from a cart on a corner in Lincoln Heights made in the specific style of the particular region in Mexico that he came from. He famously started his career by eating at literally every establishment on Pico Boulevard (one of LA’s long boulevards that stretches 15 miles from downtown to the beach). And by the time he was done, he no longer spoke of Mexican food or Chinese food, but had taught himself -- and went on to teach us -- about the wonderful differences between the styles of Oaxaca, Jalisco, or Guerrero, or the specifics of Chengdu distinct from other parts of Sichuan. He was a scholar and guide to the food regions of Thailand, Korea, and Vietnam, and the subtleties of Honduran vs Guatemalan vs Salvadoran foods. He probably knew more about Korean food than most Koreans in Koreatown. His infectious enthusiasm inspired non-Koreans to venture into K-town, and non-Latinos to venture into East LA. He fomented an openness and an invitation to cross-cultural exploration in this city, and I might venture that he did as much as anyone to cultivate the appreciation and create the cultural space for someone like Roy Choi to take LA by storm with his Kogi truck, mashing up Korean and Mexican food. And Jonathan’s smashing of the cult of the white table cloth paved the way to a city where some of our top-rated restaurants are food trucks whose location you need to follow Twitter to pin down. I am deeply grateful for how much he has enriched my own life, as he has countless Angelenos, with his insights, his encyclopedic knowledge, his contagious enthusiasm, and his delightful prose. His death – way too soon – leaves a huge hole in the heart of our city.