Street Food: USA

A lot of people say, "Carnitas is just carne."

But to me, carnitas is my life.

I remember when I was a young kid,

waking up and hearing the sound of the flame turning on.

I knew my dad was up and ready to go to work.

I'd walk to the back,

and I could see his shadow because all the flames are on.

And my dad wouldn't even know I was there.

And I would literally sit on the fence, watching everything being cooked together.

It was just an amazing feeling of a great man.

And it just hit me. I had to help my dad.

I went inside, got ready, put my shoes on,

I was like, "Hey, Dad. I got this."

That was the first time he actually let me move the paddle.

And I knew for a fact this was my destiny.

When people think about Los Angeles,

it's a cliche of cliches.

The great weather, surfing,

gluten-free avocado toast. But they don't know the real city.

- -

Los Angeles is one of the most diverse cities

for eating and living in the United States.

It's a city of neighborhoods

that's been shaped by waves of immigration from Asia, Mexico, and Latin America.

But redlining and restrictive covenants have created all these enclaves.

Because of that, you're just minutes away from the next culture.

And it's all connected by freeways.

Those freeways connect you to communities

that you wouldn't otherwise have access to.

You cannot drive more than a few blocks without seeing a vendor.

And the best food in LA is on the street.

You can find dishes that you would only find in a specific region of that country,

like Filipino skewers,

Guatemalan tortillas, meats, and pupusas,

Mexican dishes like quesadillas

and, of course, there are hot dogs, hamburgers.

And you see all those flavors, all those colors, all the ingredients.

You see it all on the streets.

- -

But of all these dishes,

it is tacos that dominates the street food scene in Los Angeles.

And one of the best ones is Carnitas El Momo in Boyle Heights,

one of the most historic and original Mexican communities.

Carnitas is soul food.

It's a style of cooking where different parts of pig

are slowly cooked in its own fat.

Takes really an expertise moving things in and out of the pot.

There's all these different types of salsas and condiments

that, grouped together, make this incredible delicious food.

Best carnitas I ever tried, man.

And Carnitas El Momo specializes in just a handful of cuts.

Cuerito is the skin.

Buche, hogs maw.

Maciza, shoulder.

And everything is so flavorful.

Romulo's children are doing the cooking now, just outside their home.

And his son, Billy Acosta, has become the leader of the family,

ensuring that there's always gonna be a Carnitas El Momo in Los Angeles.

It'll always be part of the city.

- Ready to exercise, or what? -Yes!

I'm going to do it with you.

Hmm.

Just watch how I do it, okay?

Counting up to 20, okay?

Ready?

One, two, three, four, five…

My father has been making carnitas for over 50 years.

It's a family thing, and it's a Mexico thing.

Yeah.

- -In Mexico, everybody eats carnitas.

Ours are pretty simple ingredients, but the main one is love.

The recipe that we use originated with my grandfather, Feliz Acosta.

He did carnitas for a living in Mexico.

That's where the story started.

So my dad learns it from my grandfather.

But my dad was like a little rocker, so he didn't really dig that.

So my dad decided to come to the US with no papers,

you know, chasing the American dream.

And he ended up here in Los Angeles with my mom, Inocencia.

He started off working as a welder, but then he got injured.

So he ended up having to sell carnitas to support the family.

Everything my dad did was to leave something for us.

And when I was growing up, we all contributed to helping my dad.

We didn't get paid for it. We did it because that's our dad.

But I learned to love it as well.

Attaboy, cowboy!

I didn't go to college. I don't have no degree.

With all honestly, I barely made it out of high school.

You know, and this is all I know.

There's no other bigger challenge than challenging myself

to show the people here in LA that we got something good.

Tomorrow, I'll come, and we'll exercise more.

-Yes. -Yeah?

Son, yes.

It's culture. It's-- It's passion. It's love.

It's family. It's friends.

It's all of it together that I don't want it to die out.

Food in LA, in strip malls and on the street, is incredibly rich,

incredibly diverse, and just bursting with flavor.

That's where the-- the good stuff is.

And that's where people are cooking for their own community.

The breadth and the depth of how good the cuisines are,

I don't think are matched. Anywhere.

["Inday Ng Buhay Ko" by Ric Manrique Jr. playing]

LA's Filipino community is historic. It's vast.

It's the largest concentration of Filipinos outside of the Philippines.

When you are in Dollar Hits, you feel like you're in the Philippines.

We have 33 kinds of street food in a stick.

Everything is a dollar.

That's why it's called Dollar Hits.

A little bit joke.

We have pork barbecue, chicken barbecue, fish ball, lobster ball.

I cannot mention everything because it's 33.

I'm a good cook because I came from Pampanga.

Pampanga is the culinary capital of the Philippines.

I came here in 1998.

Dad is an American citizen.

He was old at that time.

He always go to the hospital.

Then I would bring him food in the hospital.

In the hospital were plenty of Filipino nurses.

Told me, "Oh, the food is good!"

And then I save money,

and then me and my three sisters rent a truck.

One day is… good.

Second day… good.

Third day is very good.

There's plenty of people there.

Then after that, sisters, we buy this market for Dollar Hits.

And the Filipino people,

they are happy.

Everybody happy.

Everything in a stick, it's a dollar. Okay?

Dollar Hits is probably the only place in LA

where you can really get Filipino skewers.

Everything's already cooked.

You're just charring it to your preference.

You get this sweet, tangy, meaty bite, and it's just like kissed with the fire.

Really get that flavor of, like,

a Filipino night market here in Los Angeles.

Growing up, my input was never taken into consideration

until I grew a little older.

A Mexican household, If you're the youngest,

"Boy, get your ass back in the room and shut up," you know?

I'm the last of eight kids.

I was the baby of the family.

My dad calls me…

Meaning "my last breath."

Being the youngest, I never felt lonely

because my sister Antonia and I, we had bunk beds.

Other than that, everybody was around.

We all contributed to helping my dad.

I loved all that.

And it was always me, him, and my sister.

You didn't go anywhere?

- No. -No? Just stayed in?

No, I just went home.

The times that we were in the kitchen, cooking as a family,

it was fun.

Music playing in the background, laughing, sisters dancing on the side.

- -Dad's in the back, cooking the carnitas.

Mom's doing salsa in the kitchen.

It was like a fiesta, and I love that.

My dad, you know, he taught us that working will get you somewhere.

My first job was cleaning the cazo.

It's the copper pot where you do the carnitas.

And then I moved up to cashier.

I would get nervous 'cause my dad, if I said the wrong count,

he'd just give me this grin like, "Fool, you better get that shit right."

We weren't making millions,

but we were happy with what we're doing.

Do you need two containers?

- I'll start it right now. -Oh, we need onion!

-Yes! -The onion.

I'll do it right now.

But then, when I was ten years old,

my life changed forever.

One night, my dad came into my room crying.

I was scared, like, "What's going on?"

And I just hear my mom.

It was a cry of, like,

I don't know. I-- I can't imagine that pain.