The World On A Plate

Over the decades, migrant communities in Los Angeles have kept their traditions and stories alive through their food

- Joanna Lobo

In the heart of Los Angeles’ Little Tokyo there’s a store—small, sparsely furnished and a hundred years old—in a corner of the Japanese Village Plaza. It is where I try my first mochi ice-cream, or mochilato. It is a deliciously cold hybrid: A ball of gelato encased in a chewy mochi cover. To complement it, I also try a silky smooth plum wine gelato.

The store, called Mikawaya, has much more to it than just mochilato. In 1910, it opened as a small bakery selling wagashi (Japanese confection served with tea), but had to shut down during WWII. It re-opened in 1945. The late Frances Hashimoto left her teaching job and took over Mikawaya, her family business, in 1970 after her father’s death. It was she who invented the mochi ice-cream, based on her husband’s idea, and now it retails in stores and supermarkets.

LA is home to more than 140 nationalities, making its culture and cuisine very diverse. Over more than a century, it has welcomed migrants, most of whom were escaping harsh conditions in their homelands. Food helped them stay rooted to their traditions, while also earning them a living. This food started out in humble kitchens, and moved to street corners, before finding space in restaurants and finding their own identity in the mainstream.

LA is often called one of the more exciting and influential food destinations in the US. It is home to an evolving array of eateries, from five-star restaurants and celebrity chefs such as Wolfgang Puck and Curtis Stone, to food trucks serving dosas, doughnuts, boba and tacos. In 2019 itself, Michelin awarded stars to 24 restaurants in the city.