Why This Food Writer Refuses to Review Street Vendors

If I Tell You Where to Find the Best Goat Stew in L.A., I’d Be Putting People—and Their Livelihoods—at Risk

I just had the best birria of my life. This is not an understatement. It is a claim I make as a shameless momma’s boy whose mom cooked birria once a week—and as the lucky boyfriend of a cooking school graduate who was born and raised in Jalisco, the birthplace of this spicy goat stew, where I visit and eat at least once a year.

This particular birria’s broth was as complex as a bowl of ramen or pho—maybe even …


Who We Were

A Mom’s Descent into March Madness

My Son’s Trip to the Final Four Threw Me—and My Fellow UCLA Parents—Into a Crazy Cross-Country Basketball Odyssey

There’s nothing cool about me.

I’m a 6-foot tall gangly writer who likes to visit museums on vacation. I don’t snowboard, or run extreme triathlons, and I rarely know when the Super Bowl is on. But in 2007 and 2008, my second child, James Keefe, then a forward for UCLA’s basketball team, made it possible for me to have prime seats at one of the biggest sporting spectacles in America: the NCAA Division I men‘s basketball tournament.

For the parents …