Pizza and the Pico Union Project

Los Angeles

May 26, 2024

I told everyone we were making pizzas for a little event in Los Angeles this past Sunday.  It wasn’t a little event.  I didn’t know.

The synagogue is old.  It is the oldest in Los Angeles.  A brick building with stain glass.  An organ with pipes the size of the big bamboo forests I haven’t seen but imagine.  Then I met Craig Taubman.  If he was a musical instrument he would have been that organ.

Craig Taubman is a lively character with white hair and quick wit.  He is the founder and presence of the Pico Union Project in Los Angeles.  He was persuaded to purchase the Synagogue in 2012 by the Jewish Historical Society of Southern California.  With a career and background in music and a stronghold with the Los Angeles Jewish Community, Craig looked to create a lively venue space for artists, musicians and performers. His daughter suggested something a little different and before committing to a hip and happening new LA hang, Craig decided to consult with the community and find out what it was they needed and wanted.

The Pico Union neighborhood is nestled within the original boundary of El Pueblo de Los Angeles which was founded in 1781.  It has been home to multiple immigrant communities over the years and now consists of many families of Central American, Mexican, Cuban, and Korean descent.  When asked what they needed they responded; housing, jobs and food.  So began Pico Union Project, a non profit community center and venue space.

Earlier this year, my pizza partner, Cade was hired to build a wood fired pizza oven in the parking lot of Pico Union.  Sunday was it’s Maiden Voyage.  It pumped out a glorious one hundred pizza pies without a hitch.  I asked why build an oven in a parking lot in LA?  The answer was for community.  The hope is that the oven will be another outlet for community gathering, learning, workshops and celebrations.  The hope is that around the oven the community will not be taught but instead they will teach and share the ways they cook, their family traditions and histories of their culture.  Perhaps a small pizza business might take root and sell via uber uptown.  Food for the music and art events or snacks for the community classes weekly meets.  Endless potential for gathering around the fire, a central oven hub like the towns of yore.

The line was long.  Families gathered with plates full of taquitos, hot dogs, princess cake, huarache, spicy Korean noodles and wood fired pizza with kale and pop of blue bachelor button blossoms from the parking lot median garden plot.  Pepperoni too and of course cheese for the kids.  The music was cumbia from the speakers and a live mariachi band roaming the lot with horns and a violin.  The lady in red from head to toe had a shaggy marionette dog zig zagging the lines.  Crossing paths with the clown who would break with the security guards  along the back wall.  They talked things a clown shouldn’t talk about as salsa caught the corner of his white painted mouth and dripped onto his red bowtie.  Not one person was angry or upset or frustrated.  No one complained that the line was too long.  No one complained that the food wasn’t just right.  No one complained about money or cost.  People were happy.  They had their families.  They had music.  They had food.

This is invaluable perspective.  This is invaluable experience.  This is invaluable inspiration. We made one hundred pizzas for free.  It was the most rewarding way of feeding people and I only wish it could always be as such.

Afterward, Cade and I went for a dinner of Korean BBQ.  First time for both of us and we had no idea what we were doing.  Our poor server might have knocked us over the head with the slotted spoon if she could, knock some sense into us but she was kind and guided us along gently.  We did not get the BBQ but instead found ourselves with a porridge of lots of things.  But sitting in between us on the gas burner the broth boiled with Chinese cabbage and tofu.  Eight pickled dishes to spice the broth and a plate of thinly sliced beef.  Each serving added something new.  At first a soup had now become porridge with noodles and egg, seaweed and rice.  It was comforting to be eating so close to the fire again.  From parking lot pizza oven to restaurant table top stove we ate and talked about life things. We got chocolate on the way home with a bottle of sparkle.  That is a good day.