Food Truck King

book, L.A. Son: My Life, My City, My Food, published last

fall under chef Anthony Bourdains imprint at HarperCollins Ecco Press and co-written by L.A. Weekly senior
food writer Tien Nguyen and Natasha Phan, who heads
business development and communications for Chois
restaurants.
The book is itself a heady concoction: part balls-out
biography, part racy cookbook (for one of his recipes,
he advises: Get topless women in hairnets to pack the
sauce into small pouches in a house with blacked-out
windows like in New Jack City), part anthropological
guide (a chapter dubbed Cultural Shit features handy
tips like taste with fingers and eat slow; drop the deuce
fast) and part inspirational tract (call it The Zen of Roy).
In the book, the fascinating journey of the 44-year-old is
documented in page-turning detailfrom son of Korean
immigrants who were, among other things, restaurant
owners and jewelry dealers in L.A. and Orange County to
smart-ass street hood to down-and-out addict to Wall Street
wannabe to Gastronomy 101 to the whirring kitchens of Beverly Hills to messiah of the food truck craze and, now, A-list
chef, Hollywood player, advertising pitchman and emergent

By Tony Chase

ts midmorning at the Venice Beach Pier in Los

Angeles, and we are desperately in search of Roy
Choi.
A photographer, his crew and I have arrived at the
designated meeting place, on time, but Choione
of the hottest figures in the food world right now,
well on his way to becoming a megabrand that started,
improbably, with a beat-up taco truck on the streets of this
mother of a cityis nowhere in sight among the flock of
homeless people, fishermen and surfers making their way
on another ridiculously picturesque Southern California day.
We were supposed to meet right here, werent we? At
the top of the hour? Its now 20 past. Are we in the wrong
place? Oh, Jesus.
Weve arranged for a ride-along with the hipster god of the
L.A. food scene that will have us spending the day skipping
across town and popping by his various venturesincluding the Kogi BBQ truck that virtually started the food-truck
craze and made him a sensation (on this day, the truck, one
of four in Chois fleet, is parked outside the National Public
Radio studios in Culver City). We are getting anxious about
keeping on schedule.
Could he be down at the end? someone wonders. So, we
hightail it out toward the yawning Pacific, and sure enough,
there, at the very tip of the pier, he appears, decked out
in his signature Stussy T-shirt and knitted cap, sitting and
gazing at that awesome blue vista as if deep in meditation
(maybe he is?). A homeless man lies on the bench beside
him. We start snapping pictures, exchanging penitent
hellos. We may be twitchy, but Choi is not.
It was a testyou failed! he jokes, greeting us with an

easy smile that at once resets the mood.

In more ways than one, Roy Choi is a hard man to pin
down. Hes a classically trained chef with a Culinary Institute of America pedigree who early on worked under Eric
Ripert at New Yorks Le Bernardin, one of the top restaurants in the world, and who would go on to run kitchens for
corporate giants like Hilton Hotels and The Cheesecake
Factory, but who would find fame (and salvation) six years
ago when he started, with partner Mark Manguera, selling
$3 tacos out of a truck on L.A. street corners and, with
the aid of Twitter, became massive. Like most people of
accomplishment, Choi is a curious mashup of contradictions. And like most people, he can tell his own story better
than anybody else, which he does to superb effect in his

Im also a person who

cares deeply
about everything .
consumer brand. In its pages, and even more so in person,
one finds in Choi a personality who is at once high-end and
low-end, flawed and at the top of his game, relentless and
chill, coarse and refinedand absolutely, unapologetically
authentic.
Suddenly we are riding shotgun with the man whose handle
on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram is RidingShotgunLA.
Were packed in his Honda Element, rolling along Washington Boulevard across the wind-scorched streets of Venice Beach where his food is served up at the restaurants
A-Frame and Sunny Spot and the nightspot Alibi Room.
Choi is talking about his image, and being misunderstood.
Roy Choi: Yeah, Im straight hip-hop, Im straight street,
Im tatted. I represent all-Latino kitchens. You know, I sling
tacos on the street but Im also a businessman, and Im
also a person who cares deeply about everything around
me. Im a family man, you know. [He is married, and they
have a daughter.] Im a punctual guy who shows up and
honors his responsibilities and his loyalties. Its just, this

is who I am. Why do youyou rhetoricallyequate the

street with something thats rough around the edges, with
something that is gangsta or abrasive and loud? I always
try to challenge people who say, Oh, youre street, with,
Well, you know what? The streets are also mothers, right?
Thats the streets. Tamales, pupusas, tacos, all the ladies
in the house working, working at the factories, you know,
living in the homes, teaching, taking their kids to school.
Thats the streets, man. In a lazy way, we always refer
to the streets as this one thing, and Im here to shatter that.
Thats what I feel Im put on this planet for. Im finding ways
to show people the beauties of the street. The taco truck
was one step in that. Before Kogi, everyone was calling
taco trucks roach coaches. Everybody was pointing at food
trucks and saying, That is dirtyhow could you eat off
that? Youre going to get sick off that. How could they
feed their kids that? Dont go near that. After Kogi and the
revolution, now there are gourmet food trucks that park at
your sons and daughters birthday party.
Adweek: The funny thing is, when people talk about the
streets, I mean, Rodeo Drive is a street, too. And Sunset
Boulevard.
Choi: And Kogi parks on all of them, you know?
We swing by Kogi, at NPR. Choi bounds up to the service
win
dow and the crew inside greets him like hes their dad (in
fact, his nickname is Papi). Patrons queuing up for lunch
treat him like some kind of rock n roll god. He poses for
pictures before taking charge of ordering up some grub for
our group, a little bit of everythingshort rib sliders, spicy
pork tacos, kimchi quesadilla. To try to describe Kogi via the
written word is an exercise in pointlessness; there is nothing
else quite like this symphonic blending of
flavors, textures, aromas, and it must be experienced to
be appreciatedand for the cult of Roy Choi to be fully
understood. We insist on paying, but he refuses our money. Please, he says, let me feed youunless you cant,
you know, for ethical reasons. (We slip the cash in the tip
jar instead.) While some, including the New York Post and
assorted food blogs, have proclaimed the food truck trend
dead due, in part, to the growing challenge in many cities of

securing permits, Choi maintains

that the movement is strong. (In
fact, national chains from Taco
Bell to Applebees have jumped
on the wave by commissioning
their own trucks.) Says Choi:
Maybe theyre dead in New York
because yall fuckin have too
many fuckin rules over there.
Bourdain: In a world filled with
snark and irony where people are
afraid to be sincere about things,
Roy is the real deal. The street
thing is not an attitude; its that
his loyalties lie in that direction,
and its part of his personality.
He is a very gentle soula hell
of a lot closer to the Dalai Lama
than [Hells Angels founder]
Sonny Barger. Theres something
mesmerizing about him. We did
an event at the Pantages Theatre
in L.A., and the love in that room
was palpable. It felt like a revival
meeting.
Next, were off to Sunny Spot in
Venice Beach, a Caribbean joint
whose menu Choi commandeered in 2011. While we wait
for the photo crew to set up, we dive into still more flavor-socked dishes: chicken with spicy jerk sauce and grilled
pineapple, roasted lamb with chili vinaigrette and pickled
mango. We are also tossing back something delightfully
limb-numbing called a Sunny Rum Punch, made from not
only Jamaican rum but demerara, lime-pineapple juice and
Angostura bitters. Choi muses on the elite culinary circle
hes become a part of.
Adweek: You have a history with some pretty big names in
the food world: Bourdain, Ripert, Emeril Lagasse, Nobu Matsuhisa. You have gotten to know David Chang and Jamie
Oliver and Alain Ducasse. Do you feel like you have become
part of that club?
Choi: I dont know if Im part of the club, but Im definitely allowed in the partyand I
definitely dont gotta pay
to get into the party. But I
dont know if Im necessarily part of the club.
Food & Wine and Bon
Apptit have been great
from day one, but the
James Beard Awards,
Michelin, San Pellegrino,
all those things, they
dont really acknowledge
what I do. I hate clubs
anyway [laughs].
A major acknowledgement did come his way

in 2010 (the same year he opened his first sit-down eatery,

Chego, in L.A.s Chinatown) when Food & Wine magazine
named Choi one of its Best New Chefs and put him on its
coverimpressive real estate for a self-described taco slinger. Since then, hes been the subject
of dozens of profiles, and last year The Hollywood Reporter
(which, like Adweek, is owned by affiliates of Guggenheim
Partners) called him one of the 20 Most Influential Chefs in
Hollywood. But four years ago, Choi was an unconventional
pick, as Dana Cowin, the editor in chief, recalls.
Cowin: I remember the conversations we had. People loved
his food; he was doing something really different and new.
But up to that point, most of the people we selected for
Best New Chefs had brick-and-mortar restaurants and were
operating at the higher end, like Thomas Keller of French
Laundry, for example. The decision to make Roy Best New
Chef was pretty dramatic, and we were really excited about
that. We felt like there was a change happening in the land,
and Roy was right at the head of the change.
Inevitably, Choi is becoming something of a media star,
appearing on programs like Top Chef, The Ellen DeGeneres
Show and Bourdains CNN series Parts Unknown. Most
recently, Hollywood has come calling, with Chois story in
part inspiring the movie Chef, which premiered at this year's
SXSW and won the Heineken-sponsored Narrative Award at the Tribeca Film Festival. It was
written and directed by Jon Favreau, who also stars as the
down-on-his-luck, Choi-esque dude who finds redemption
in a food truck. (Choi was a consultant on the film.) Choi
now counts Favreau and celebs like Snoop Dogg as friends.
(Speaking about the kind of ads he could see himself in,

Choi imagines selling the Cadillac

Escalade with Snoop.)
Favreau: Roy represents an accurate depiction of what America is
now. He is the incarnation of multiculturalism. He has a foot in every
world, hes authentic to L.A., and he
understands it, not just through the
perspective of his own culture, but
the Mexican culture. Hes existed
in a lot of different social strata. But
most importantly, he has a gentleness and a passion that are very
infectious. Hes had dark days but
emerged victorious without becoming bitter. I think at the core hes a
storyteller; thats why I relate to him
and have grown so fond of him.
He tells a story with food, hes an
author, he helped with the film, and
his career is a storyhe sees each
endeavor as another chapter.
Adweek: How much of that world
have you been sucked up into, the
whole Hollywood thing?
Choi: To say I am getting sucked
up by Hollywood, it makes no
sense to me because I fit in anywhere,
man. You know, I am who I am, whether Im in Hollywood or
Im in Koreatown. I dont know; I just morph into the situation. I got nothing to gain or nothing to lose by trying to be a
part of someone elses world. I bring my own world to
Hollywood so its more like, will Hollywood get sucked
up by me? The Line Hotel and all the excitement and press
that have greeted it are a long, long way from Chois darkest days, as detailed in L.A. Son, a time during which Choi
would stumble upon a life preserver and entre to a whole
new life by way of the unlikeliest of characters. Staring at the

television one half-dead, half-drunk morning, Choi writes, he

became entranced by Emeril Lagasse. His eyes were looking
straight at me like fucking Mona Lisas. He was talking to me.
And he was shoving oregano and basil under my nose. For
one long second, I felt the herbs tickling my nose; I smelled the
stew bubbling in the pot. It was exhilarating. Captivating. And
bam, just like that, I knew. This was my destiny. The two would
end up appearing together on Top Chef and become friends.
Lagasse: I was completely blown away by the intensity of that
story and how he told the story. Hes pushing the envelope,
trying to make a difference in what he believes in and his culture, and is a friggin remarkable story. His food is real, and real
solid, with a lot of spiritual and cultural influences. Hes really
pounding the pavement and trying to do things right.
Doing things right includes Chois well-documented evangelism
about the relationship between poor people and poor diet, and
the uncomfortable fact that chefs and restaurateurs can be a
pretty elite bunch, serving the privileged as regular working
people are left with the scraps. (A speech on the subject at last
years MAD food symposium in Copenhagen got a lot of ink
and was called gutsy by the food blog Eater.) One of Chois
passion projects is 3 Worlds Cafe in South Central, which was
started by high school students looking for healthier food choices in the largely minority part of town.
He may have been the inspiration Choi was primed for, but is
the superbrand that is Emeril Inc.with his name and face affixed to a dozen restaurants as well as cookware, baking pans,
cookbooks, cutlery, pasta, spices, sauces, even small appliancessomething Choi could ever become? Is that a model he
even seeks to emulate?
Bourdain: Hes as big as he wants to be but hes not going
to be greedy, thats for sure. Youre not going to see him on
QVC peddling cheap cookware, this kind of megamerchandising brand that we have grown so accustomed to. Hell be as
big and as famous and as powerful a figure as he wants to be,
but he will never do anything that will cause him to look in the
mirror the next day and feel sad about it.
Ive been approached with every offer under the sun. But then
it gets to the point of, like, OK, lets take it to Las Vegas, lets
take it to New York. And what happens is the next round
of discussions never went the right way. Maybe the stars just
werent aligned. But I am still motivated to make it happen.
Yes, theres a business part of it, but more than business, if you
see anything Im doing right now, its about spreading the love.
I want college kids in Ann Arbor, Mich., and Athens, Ga., and
Knoxville, Tenn., and at NYU and in Seattle and Washington,
D.C., to experience a Kogi taco. I just know that theyre going
to fucking love it, you know?
A few of Chois associates are now milling around the lobby of
the hotel, waiting for our crew to finally skedaddle so they can
continue putting finishing touches on the top-secret Commissary sorry, no press allowed. Its now the dinner hour, and
the man at the center of this whirl, even after what has turned
out to be a very long day, is still going nonstop, still smiling and
still laying out for us, even as hes whisked away, all his big
dreams for K-Town and beyond.