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The Brief

The most important stories for you to know today
  • We dig into what it takes to put on the event
    A wide shot of a person with a light skin tone standing on stills in the road in front of a crowd and Highland Avenue streeet sign. They have a bouquet of blue, yellow and pink flowers for hair and are wearing a bright blue and colurful outfit. Their arms are raised in the air while one leg is kicked up.
    A stilt walker performs during the 2023 LA Pride Parade in Hollywood.

    Topline:

    The 54th L.A. Pride Parade is happening on Sunday. If you’ve ever wondered what it takes to make it come alive, here’s your look.

    Who runs the parade? Mariela Spillari has been the producer and director of the L.A. Pride parade since 2019. She and her roughly 25-person production team are in charge of keeping the parade route smooth. It’s a small crew for an event that more than 100,000 people attend.

    What’s the prep like? They spend about six months planning the parade, including curating who gets to participate. Pride parades typically have a lot of corporate sponsors, which Spillari says gets vetted to make sure they’re supporting LGBTQ+ people.

    What’s different about this year’s parade? The production team will manage 165 groups marching down Hollywood Boulevard. It’s the largest cohort L.A. Pride has ever had.

    Mariela Spillari remembers the first year the L.A. Pride Parade went back to Hollywood in 2022.

    It was a significant time in the parade’s history because the Christopher Street West festivities were leaving West Hollywood for good, and moving back to the roots of the first 1970 parade.

    As parade director and producer, Spillari wasn’t sure what kind of crowd they’d get, but thousands of people came. She recalled an emotional moment when a woman marched by with an “amo mi hija trans” sign — “I love my trans daughter.”

    “I almost lost it,” said Spillari, who was born in Guatemala. “I’m on a walkie and I just stopped and was like ‘whoa, if this is the kind of impact that this is having, you just can’t put a price on that. You can’t put a value on that’.”

    L.A. Pride returns this weekend on June 8 and 9. The parade is in its 54th year, so we decided to take a look at what goes into keeping the oldest permitted pride parade in the world rolling.

    The lead-up to the big day

    This year will be Spillari’s fourth parade. She and her team spend about six months planning, starting in the beginning of the year.

    A selfie of two people with medium light skin tones standing outside in the street in front of a crowd and a Sunset Boulevard street sign. They are wearing green shirts and L.A. Pride rainbow hats.
    At left, Mariela Spillari with a member of the team at the L.A. Pride Parade.
    (
    Courtesy Mariela Spillari
    )

    The Christopher Street West Association picks the parade theme (this year it’s Power in Pride). They’ve put on the parade since 1970, and they only have two full-time employees. Contractors are brought in to prepare for June.

    As the co-founder of L.A.-based Prima Agency, Spillari and her crew are brought in because of their experience running large-scale events, like the Rose Bowl Parade.

    “Parades in general, just the celebratory nature of them, are something that is so significant to a lot of people,” Spillari said. “Then with Pride itself, it just has such an emotional impact and can mean so much to the community. That’s why we take it so seriously.”

    A wide view of a people on float to the right and the line of crowds down the street to the left. On the float are rainbow decor as two people with medium light skin tones sit in the front. One person has a blue dress on and a crown.
    Participants ride on a float during the 2023 LA Pride Parade in Hollywood
    (
    Mario Tama
    /
    Getty Images
    )

    Her team starts with building the registration form, and later they pick which groups actually walk on parade day. She said this year they’ve “received more applications than ever.”

    Official pride parades in general are quite famous for having a lot of big corporate sponsors. But to choose who walks, Spillari said they look at a variety of places, like an organization’s Human Rights Campaign score, Guidestar rating and social media posts to see if and how a company or nonprofit supports LGBTQ+ people.

    Stepping off to march

    A wide shot of marchers walking outside holding signs. In the foreground is an Asian person with a medium light skin tone and gray hair holding up a rainbow sign with a heart on it. In the heart in yellow lettering is the Chinese symbol for love.
    A marcher with PFLAG walks at the 2023 LA Pride Parade with a sign that says "love" in in Chinese
    (
    David McNew
    /
    Getty Images
    )

    On parade day, everyone is bustling with energy.

    This will be L.A. Pride’s 54th and largest parade yet. There will be 165 groups marching, ranging from small groups to Disney and ABC7, which is going to have four vehicles and 200 people.

    Everyone gets to Hollywood bright and early on Sunday. Spillari said it’s “organized chaos” as floats get in order, fire department inspections happen, and groups work individually to get their people fed and pumped.

    “We’re looking at half-built floats and stilt walkers and balloons and florals and all kinds of beautiful, creative, incredible stuff,” Spillari said.

    The day-of-production team is about 25 people, made up of mostly women and queer people, Spillari said. They fly in from places like New York, Atlanta, Texas, and San Francisco. Their job is to keep track of everyone and communicate with Spillari about what’s happening on the route.

    “I’m actually right at the start of the parade at our step off,” she said, “and have a megaphone and the honor of welcoming everyone in.”

    At 11 a.m., people start marching north on Highland Avenue. They turn onto Hollywood Boulevard where a crowd of more than 100,000 people cheer on.

    The parade’s a little over a mile long. Once groups turn south onto Cahuenga Boulevard, a disbanding team helps them disassemble. And that’s a wrap.

    “It’s truly one of my favorite weekends,” Spillari said. “Year after year, we just get refueled and want to do it all over again.”

  • Here're 5 games to play instead

    Topline:

    NPR's Linda Holmes is a daily puzzle devotee. She recommends games that will test your knowledge of geography, history, and even the most obscure corners of Wikipedia.

    Keep reading and dive right into her list of recommendations.

    Maybe you, like me, are a daily puzzle player. Maybe you like a Wordle, or a crossword, or one of the other entries from the New York Times puzzle empire.

    But maybe you're looking for something else.

    So, with a tip of the hat to the people on Bluesky who helped me discover a bunch of games I love in the last month or two, I'm sharing a few games that I'm particularly enjoying these days — ones that are not NYT word games. (No disrespect to my original love, Spelling Bee.)

    There are more, of course: the spelling bee game Beeswax, the word game Smush, the vexing Anthropeum, the movie games Framed and Cinematrix. Truthfully, I have more games in the "daily games" folder on my phone than I could ever actually play daily. But given a choice between puzzling and doomscrolling, I'll take the puzzles every time.

    MapTap

    A screenshot of a globe.
    Any idea where Regina is? Do your best in MapTap's daily geography game.
    (
    Screenshot by NPR
    )

    MapTap is a very simple game. You are shown a 3D globe that you can rotate with your finger, but there are no lines dividing countries or territories. So you are just looking at the unmarked terrain of the world, and you are challenged to tap as close as you can to a particular named location. Maybe "London, England, U.K." You tap. It shows you the distance between where you tapped and where the place really is. You get more points the closer you are. There are five questions in each daily round.

    This game can be genuinely humbling, because without those familiar borders showing, it can be difficult to even locate places you are very familiar with. (Without state and national boundaries, it always takes me a minute to precisely find even a place I myself have lived.) But what I love about MapTap is that as I do it, over and over, I actually get better at world geography, which is worthwhile and enriching.

    TimeGuessr

    A screenshot of a game.
    Look carefully: What's your best guess for where and when this photo was taken? TimeGuessr makes you a detective.
    (
    Screenshot by NPR
    )

    In the same family as MapTap is TimeGuessr, where each day's challenge is made up of five puzzles that each start with a photo. Your task is to choose, on a timeline, what year the photo was taken, and to choose, on a map of the world, where it was taken. Sometimes, the photos are of historically meaningful events, like the aftermath of a battle or a natural disaster. Sometimes, they are photographs of ordinary people going about their lives.

    The trick with TimeGuessr is detective work. Some hints are straightforward: a sign in the window of a store that might tip off the location (if you can figure out what language it's written in), a license plate, something along those lines. But sometimes, the clues are more subtle. What are the people in the photo wearing? What do the cars look like? How is everybody wearing their hair? It's a fascinating exercise in putting together clues, and again, you can actually increase your knowledge of the world while you play.

    The Loop

    A screenshot of a game. It has a bowl of pasta in the middle.
    Everything is connected (somehow) in The Loop, which is a perfect first-thing-when-you-wake-up game.
    (
    Screenshot by NPR
    )

    The Loop is my favorite early-morning game, perfect for when I'm only partially awake. It offers you 12 simple illustrations that you have to arrange in a circle so that each illustration connects in some way to the ones on either side of it.

    So, for instance, in one round I played, a square-root symbol connected on one side to a carpenter's square (because square/square), which then connected to a picture of a toolbox (because a carpenter's square is a tool). On the other side, the square-root symbol connected to a carrot (because it's a root vegetable), and then the carrot to an icicle (because they're the same shape). It can be fun to crack all the different ways that the images connect to each other, but the game design also offers so many chances to get it right that there's a huge amount of grace for making mistakes. That, of course, is why it's perfect for being half-awake.

    Clues by Sam

    A screenshot of a game made up of many boxes with emojis inside each box.
    It's up to you to figure out who's innocent and who's guilty in Clues by Sam.
    (
    Screenshot by NPR
    )

    Clues by Sam is a logic puzzle. It presents you with a grid — four across and five down — of people, each represented by a name, an emoji and an occupation. Your job is to figure out which of those people are innocent and which are criminals. (There is no set number; there could be lots of criminals or only a couple.) Your opening clue might say, "Michael is one of three criminals in row 2." Then you click on Michael and mark him as a criminal, and when you're right, that gets you another clue, and so on.

    Like most of these games, this one is enjoyable largely because it's simple, but its diabolical twist is that you can't guess. If you try to label Jane innocent, for instance, and she eventually will be, but the game hasn't given you enough information yet to actually know that, then that answer is wrong and is rejected. You are only allowed to deduce from the clues you have, because it is genuinely the journey and not the destination. Note that Clues by Sam gets harder each day from Monday through Sunday, so if you're a beginner, give it a whirl early in the week to get the hang of it.

    Catfishing

    A screenshot of a game called, "catfishing."
    Catfishing asks you to figure out the title of a Wikipedia page from its categories — which is harder than it sounds.
    (
    Screenshot by NPR
    )

    Without a doubt, the hardest game I play regularly. In this game, you get a list of at least some of the categories that a particular Wikipedia page belongs to, and you have to try to figure out what page it is. There are ten questions; my average score is about four, and the highest I've ever gotten is eight.

    For example, if you know a page is filed under "20th century musicians," and "21st century musicians," and "American folk musicians," and "people born in Minnesota," you might start to zero in on Bob Dylan. But be warned: Many of the answers are far more obscure than that, and it's very common for me to give up and reveal the answer, only to learn that I never stood a chance, because I've never heard of the person (or event, or phenomenon) at all. It doesn't matter how many ways you classify certain medieval rulers or political conflicts of 19th century Iowa; I may never get there.

    This piece also appeared in NPR's Pop Culture Happy Hour newsletter. Sign up for the newsletter so you don't miss the next one, plus get weekly recommendations about what's making us happy.

    Listen to Pop Culture Happy Hour on Apple Podcasts and Spotify.
    Copyright 2026 NPR

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  • It's hidden inside a Burbank vintage store
    Two mannequins in dresses stand outside Hive & Hanger, a vintage shop with a yellow door and honey-drip mural.
    The Bee Museum is inside the vintage store, Hive & Hanger, in Burbank.

    Topline:

    Hive & Hanger in Burbank sells vintage clothes and antique jewelry. Inside, you'll also find a pop-up Bee Museum.

    What? The owner is Carrie Diazzz, a vintage maven turned urban apiarist. She admits with a smile two extra Zs at the end of her real last name are a homage to her beloved bees.

    The backstory: When the store opened in 2020, it was originally all-vintage. The museum was opened almost a year ago after Diazzz became fascinated with the honeybee.

    A sign on the front door says “Beekeeper owned,” and inside the Hive & Hanger store in Burbank, the layout is a mix of vintage clothes, antique jewelry and something rather unexpected: a pop-up Bee Museum.

    The owner is Carrie Diazzz, a vintage maven turned urban apiarist. She admits with a smile  two extra Zs at the end of her real last name are a homage to her beloved bees.

    When the store opened in 2020, it was originally all-vintage. “I was not looking to change careers,” she said, but after taking a two-hour beekeeping experience course, she was hooked.

    A yellow door with a hexagon hanger logo reads 'Hive & Hanger, Beekeeper Owned,' with an OPEN sign hanging on the glass.
    Hive & Hangar in Burbank doubles as a bee museum.
    (
    James Bartlett
    /
    LAist
    )

    “I don’t like dirt, and I don't like bugs. I'm a heels and lipstick, nails, kind of person,” she said. “There's just something magical about the honeybee. The more you know, the more you want to know.”

    That prompted her to pursue a bee master certification at UC Davis. She collaborated with Elina Niño at the university’s Bee Lab to curate information and research to bring her pop-up Bee Museum to life almost a year ago.

    A crash course in bees

    A sign that says Burbank Bee Museum
    The Burbank Bee Museum.
    (
    James Bartlett
    /
    LAist
    )

    There’s a Bee 101 explainer by the front door, which shows the differences between bees and wasps, and fun touches like pop songs containing the word “Honey,” and a list of Noteworthy Beekeepers including Aristotle, Benjamin Franklin, Leo Tolstoy, Emily Dickinson, Angelina Jolie and Sherlock Holmes.

    One long-standing myth is that honeybees are stingers. “People always ask me how often I get stung, but I don’t wear gloves, and I don’t use smoke, and it very rarely happens. And honeybees die after they sting, as opposed to wasps, who can sting repeatedly,” she said.

    Five bee models sit on a museum display describing bees as pollinators that eat nectar, sting once, and are fuzzy and yellow.
    (
    James Bartlett
    /
    LAist
    )

    Most arresting is a floor-to-ceiling collage series of framed model fruits, vegetables, nuts and berries, all of which the honeybee has a role in pollinating. Beside that is an exhibit on pesticides, one of the insect's biggest threats. Pieces of dried honeycomb are everywhere.

    Diazzz has also been hosting school trips for the Boys & Girls Clubs. “I might be the only beekeeper they will ever meet,” she noted. The point is to give bees the respect they deserve. “Did you know that it takes 12 honeybees their entire lives to make one teaspoon of honey?”

    Rescuing hives across Southern California

    A window display with jars of honey inside the store. On the outside it says, "More than just honey, Honey."
    The Bee Museum serves up not just honey, but bee knowledge.
    (
    James Bartlett
    /
    LAist
    )

    There are no live bees in the store, but Diazzz has her own hives in Burbank.

    “They are from rescues: I cut the hive out from a wall,” she explained. She takes care of hives from San Diego to Bel Air, with many in the San Fernando Valley, and a couple with a view of the Hollywood Sign. Her caretaking quests have taken her on skyscraper roofs, at apartment buildings and in parking lots.

    Almost a year ago, she began her studies as a honey sommelier at the American Honey Tasting Society in Connecticut, where she learned about the science and experience of honey. Her future includes going off to Bologna, Italy, the world honey hub, for the final round of studies and tests at the Albo Nazionale degli Esperti in Analisi Sensoriale del Miele or the National Register of Experts in Sensory Analysis of Honey.

    Small honey jars in varying shades of gold and amber sit on a table, one labeled 'Raw Multi-Floral Honey' from La Crescenta.
    Carrie Diazzz, owner of the store and the museum, sells small jars of honey sourced locally and from her own hives.
    (
    James Bartlett
    /
    LAist
    )

    “Nectar and honey are not the same thing,” she explained. “Nectar is the liquid sticky substance that bees collect from flowering plants and take back to the hive. They transform it into honey by dehydrating the moisture out of the nectar, and capping it over with wax.”

    Diazzz recently held her first informal tasting experience at The Bee Museum, and has small batches of various local honeys for sale: cactus, sage, and honey from her own hives. “I usually leave the honey alone, and only take any extra they have made to sell,” she said, because bees use the honey as sustenance. Her favorite? “A toss-up between dandelion and sunflower. Orange blossom is delicious too, but very sweet.”

  • Unhoused man died after entering interim housing
    Exterior of the Mayfair hotel in Koreatown
    Raz Chowdhury, a 45-year-old unhoused man, died at The Mayfair in July 2026 after being moved to hotel as part of the Inside Safe program.

    Topline:

    45-year-old Raz Chowdhury was moved off the streets into interim housing through an Inside Safe operation. A week later, he was found dead in his hotel room.


    The backstory: L.A. Mayor Karen Bass’ office said it does not disclose the locations where an individual is placed following an Inside Safe operation. According to Ktown for All, Chowdhury died at the Mayfair Hotel in Westlake, which is used for interim housing.

    A spokesperson for the Los Angeles County Department of Medical Examiner said the case is still under investigation and Chowdhury died at a hotel in the 1200 block of West 7th Street.

    This story first appeared on The LA Local.

    A week after 45-year-old Raz Chowdhury was moved off the streets into interim housing through an Inside Safe operation, he was found dead in his hotel room.

    Chowdhury had spent years living on the streets of Koreatown, moving between encampments along Sixth Street and Wilshire Boulevard and Manhattan Place.

    Sherin Varghese first met him three or four years ago. Chowdhury would reach out to Varghese, a volunteer with Ktown for All, an advocacy group that provides direct aid for people experiencing homelessness in Koreatown. He would ask her for tents, tarps, clothes and other supplies. More often than not, she said, they weren’t for him.

    “He would always go above and beyond to take care of the people around him,” Varghese said at a vigil for Chowdhury on Saturday, Aug. 29.

    Once, after Chowdhury lost his phone during a sanitation sweep, he searched for Varghese online and found her work number. He called to ask if she could bring tents and tarps for him and other people whose belongings were lost in the sweep.

    “He was resourceful, he was reliable, and he was so thoughtful about the way that he talked about how all of this affected him and affected his friends,” Varghese said.

    On June 25, Chowdhury was among 31 people moved into housing during an Inside Safe operation at Wilshire Boulevard and Manhattan Place, according to Mayor Karen Bass’ office.

    A week later he was dead.

    What happened after Inside Safe

    According to Ktown for All, Chowdhury died at the Mayfair Hotel in Westlake, which is used for interim housing.

    A spokesperson for the Los Angeles County Department of Medical Examiner said the case is still under investigation and Chowdhury died at a hotel in the 1200 block of West 7th Street on July 2. His cause of death is listed as deferred and the case is under investigation by the Los Angeles Police Department’s Rampart Division.

    The Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority, which oversees the Mayfair, would not say if Chowdhury was a resident when he died. An agency spokesperson said they cannot confirm an individual’s enrollment in a LAHSA-contracted program without a written release from next of kin.

    LAHSA’s latest Inside Safe report shows that 6,406 people had entered interim housing through the program as of July 31. About 1,750 people remained in interim housing, including 289 at the Mayfair. Meanwhile, 1,802 people, or more than one in four who entered the program, had returned to homelessness. Another 126 people, or about 2%, were listed as deceased.

    Bass’ office said it does not disclose the locations where an individual is placed following an Inside Safe operation.

    Once someone is connected to interim housing, ongoing services and case management are handled by a LAHSA-contracted service provider, mayor spokesperson Jieun Kim said.

    Remembering Chowdhury

    The people who knew Chowdhury gathered last week to remember him at the site of the encampment where he had lived at Wilshire Boulevard and Manhattan Place.

    A little more than two dozen people attended the memorial, where they placed flowers at the base of a small tribute to him.

    Planters now line the sidewalk where the tents once were. Several people cried as they shared memories of Chowdhury, who they said spent years looking out for others living on the streets of Koreatown.

    Cynthia Zhang, who has volunteered with Ktown for All for about four to five years, remembers visiting an encampment where Chowdhury was staying after the Los Angeles fires. Newly displaced people there told her they felt safer with that community than they did at shelters.

    “I think Raz was really instrumental in helping create that kind of space,” Zhang said at the vigil.

    The last time Zhang saw Chowdhury, he had moved again and did not have a lot of his stuff. But he had a new puppy named T-Rex and seemed to be in good spirits.

    “He had a really lovely smile,” Zhang said. “I just remember him skateboarding around … all these little things, maybe because I didn’t see him every day, it really does feel like I’ll be walking around and I’ll see him in one of our old spots.”

    David Strugar, another longtime Ktown for All volunteer, said Chowdhury was often the person volunteers went to when they wanted to know how people in the area were doing.

    “I would always point him out and say, ‘That’s the mayor of this area,’ because wherever he was, he was just the center of it, and he took care of people,” Strugar said.

    Chowdhury would tell volunteers who needed what and help distribute supplies, Strugar said.

    A few weeks before he died, Varghese said, she and Chowdhury were looking for places where he could stay outside a 41.18 zone, where the city restricts sitting, lying, sleeping and storing personal property in certain public rights-of-way under specified circumstances.

    Then Inside Safe moved him indoors.

    “I hoped that he’d be one of its success stories, but a week later, he was gone,” Varghese said. “The program is called Inside Safe, but for Raz and 125 others, it wasn’t that. And it was never going to be Inside Safe, and it was never going to be easy to be inside alone for someone who had so much to give and always surrounded himself with people to take care of.”

    The last time Strugar saw Chowdhury, he had his dog T-Rex with him. Ktown for All volunteers don’t know where T-Rex is now.

    Chowdhury believed he had the right to community and companionship, Strugar said.

    “And there are so many people who have so much and won’t give anything,” Strugar said. “And Raz kept having everything taken away from him, and he still ended up being the person to give.”

    He added, “I just keep expecting to walk around the corner and see him, and I’m angry that I won’t.”

  • SoPas doctor makes backyard roast for fun
    An Asian man wearing glasses and an apron holds a roasted duck above a big outdoor oven.
    Hong Pham, aka That Peking Duck Guy, takes a roasted Pipa duck out of his outdoor oven.

    Topline:

    Radiologist Hong Pham has an unusual side hustle — cooking and selling Peking and roast ducks from his South Pasadena backyard.

    The backstory: That Peking Duck Guy started out as a social media account documenting Pham's culinary journey to make the perfect duck. It then became a side hustle when strangers and neighbors offered to buy his birds.

    Read on ... to learn about how Pham got started and how he cooks his ducks.

    Got a taste for ducks cooked the Chinese way? Your quest may take you to a quiet suburban backyard in South Pasadena.

    That's where That Peking Duck Guy cooks and sells his birds. His clients, he said, include Phil Rosenthal and Roy Choi.

    The guy behind That Peking Duck Guy is Hong Pham, who started the social media account in late 2025 as a way to document his latest culinary obsession: making the perfect duck, be it Peking or Pipa (deboned and flattened into the shape of the namesake Chinese string instrument).

    The intention was not to sell. "I have a day job," Pham said. A radiologist, to be precise.

    "I was actually making so many that neighbors wanted to claim it and offered to buy it," he added. "So I'm like, 'OK, that makes it easier 'cause I don't have to eat it all.'"

    Soon came DMs from strangers asking for the same thing.

    These days, That Peking Duck Guy caters events and holds takeout pop-ups where people can purchase and pick up a duck (which comes with sides and duck soup) from his South Pasadena backyard — right where he cooks them.

    A plate of duck served with Chinese sweet sauce, chopped spring onions and cucumber slices.
    Peking duck from That Peking Duck Guy served with Chinese sweet sauce, chopped spring onions and cucumber slices.
    (
    Fiona Ng
    /
    LAist
    )

    Duck is the latest obsession

    Duck is not his first rodeo. Pham said he and his wife are foodies who've always been curious about delving into Vietnamese and other Asian culinary traditions. For Pham, that also means replicating some of these dishes at home, from scratch.

    He'd gone on a tofu bender — making gallons of the stuff, as blocks, drinks and pudding — and also a bánh cuốn spree, or Vietnamese steamed rice rolls. He landed on duck as his latest subject only because he had wanted to make better heo quay, or Vietnamese roasted pork belly.

    It's the oven

    An Asian man in glasses and an apron smiling next to a spaceship-like outdoor oven.
    Pham and one of his special outdoor ovens he uses to roast duck.
    (
    Fiona Ng
    /
    LAist
    )

    He researched how to get that extra crisp online and landed on an oven people in Asia use to make roast and Peking ducks.

    How to get your duck

    Pham hosts takeout pop-ups from South Pasadena backyard. Follow That Peking Duck Guy's Instagram for updates.

    Visit the official website for catering requests.

    "It was called the Apollo oven 'cause it looks like an Apollo space capsule," he said.

    He bought one and then another. In between, he experimented cooking different meats with the new oven to get a feel before turning to the waterfowl.

    He even got advice from Top Chef winner Mei Lin, whom he messaged cold: "She's like, 'Keep it simple. Keep it basic. Keep it traditional.'"

    Three ducks inside an outdoor oven
    Three Pipa ducks inside the oven.
    (
    Fiona Ng
    /
    LAist
    )

    Hundreds of ducks later, Pham said he still learns something new. That's one reason why his side hustle has stuck around.

    "I didn't create like, you know, That Bánh Cuốn Man," he said. "Yeah, duck's gonna last."

    How That Peking Duck Guy cooks his ducks

    Pham starts 7 to 10 days before cooking. Here's the preparation process:

    1. He usually trims off the legs and the wings, because those parts get burnt in the oven.
    2. He insufflates the duck. He sticks an air pump in between the meat and the skin to separate the two, so the entire duck blows up into a "huge balloon essentially," he said.
    3. He scalds the skin with a combination of vinegar and maltose to make it "aerodynamic and tight" to get that crispiness.
    4. He seasons the inside of the duck.
    5. He then hangs and dries the ducks for about 7 to 10 days.
    6. Then in the Apollo oven they go. Peking ducks take about an hour and 15 minutes to cook. Pipa ducks take about 40 minutes.

    When does he know they're done? "Well, you know the color, we're looking for that beautiful mahogany glistening skin, you know?" Pham said.

    Two freshly cooked roast ducks.
    Two Pipa ducks fresh out of the oven.
    (
    Fiona Ng
    /
    LAist
    )