The Brief

On a Friday afternoon on a quiet suburban block in Lakewood, the only sign that something special is happening is a small handwritten chalkboard with a small Peruvian flag and an American flag placed nearby, listing the day's specials — Papa Rellena, Aji de Pollo, Lomo Saltado. This is Lomo Fuego, a fully licensed Peruvian restaurant operating out of a family home, and it's part of a quietly growing movement reshaping how Los Angeles defines a restaurant.

The only sign you'll find outside Lomo Fuego — a handwritten chalkboard on a quiet Lakewood lawn

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Since launching in January 2019, L.A. County's Microenterprise Home Kitchen Operation (MEHKO) program has issued more than 200 permits, transforming residential kitchens into licensed restaurants.

Lomo Fuego's founder is Heidi Randolph, a Peruvian immigrant and former interior designer who left her career to be closer to home. With a new mortgage and no income, she found an unlikely business partner in her brother — a trained chef who had just arrived from Peru — and an idea: turn the backyard into a restaurant. Her husband, William Armando Rios, a truck driver, had his doubts, but Randolph pushed forward anyway.

Randolph wanted to do things right, so she called the city of Lakewood. They told her it was impossible. She kept researching anyway and eventually found MEHKO.

What Is MEHKO?

MEHKO — short for Microenterprise Home Kitchen Operation — is a program administered by the L.A. County Department of Public Health that allows residents to run licensed food businesses from their primary residences. No commercial kitchen required, no landlord to answer to. Operators are capped at 30 meals a day and $100,000 in gross annual revenue — guardrails designed to keep the businesses appropriately scaled to a residential setting, but also the kind that make brick-and-mortar the natural next step for a thriving operation.

The permit process, she says, was surprisingly accessible.

Her total startup investment came in under $2,000 — a fraction of the $30,000 to $40,000 it typically costs to open even a modest commercial kitchen.

"My savings from my previous job helped me, and my husband supported me in everything — in the beginning, he was like, what are you doing? But he believed in me."

Luis, Fritz, and Heidi Randolph — the family behind Lomo Fuego in Lakewood.

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Finding their footing

Starting a restaurant is never easy, especially when it’s in your backyard.

Randolph said the early days were filled with uncertainty, when she'd find herself cooking only to have nobody come, leftovers piling up, credit cards creeping toward their limits, social media posts going largely unnoticed. She pushed through anyway.

Luis, Heidi Randolph's brother and head chef, along with their mother Fritz, preps for service in the Lomo Fuego kitchen

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"You just have to be patient — posting on Facebook Marketplace, Instagram, TikTok. Little by little, it started getting somewhere," she said.

The turning point came from an unexpected source. Cook Alliance, a nonprofit that works alongside the county to support MEHKO operators, reached out and offered to connect Randolph with an influencer. The creator, from the account LA OC Eats, came out and shot a video.

Overnight, everything changed.

"It was a line of people outside — way outside," she said.

Neighbors, to Randolph's relief, couldn't have been more supportive.

Behind the scenes, it's a true family affair — Randolph's brother handles the bulk of the cooking while her mother, Fritz, who still works as a housekeeper at the VA on her days off, pitches in wherever she's needed. The family has since brought on additional kitchen and waitstaff to keep up with demand. It's exactly the kind of scene Randolph had always envisioned.

The Jungle, the Germans and Aji amarillo

To understand Lomo Fuego’s menu, you have to understand where Heidi Randolph comes from.

Randolph grew up in Oxapampa, a small town in Peru's high jungle — tucked into the Pasco region about five hours east of Lima, where the Andes begin their descent toward the Amazon — founded by German and Austrian immigrants in the mid-1800s. It helps explain why the menu at Lomo Fuego includes schnitzel and a plantain-based strudel alongside the lomo saltado.

Lomo Saltado Pobre at Lomo Fuego — the dish that started it all, served with rice, fries, fried plantains, and a fried egg.

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Peruvian cuisine has long absorbed outside influences — Chinese laborers brought the wok and soy sauce that make lomo saltado possible, and the stir-fried noodle dish Tallarín Saltado is essentially Peru's answer to lo mein, so deeply rooted in Chinese cooking it belongs to its own culinary tradition known as Chifa.

Being the ever-curious food writer that I am, I passed on many of the well-known dishes and went straight for the daily specials, landing on the Aji de Gallina — a stewed chicken dish built around ají amarillo, the foundational "soul" of Peruvian cuisine. Alongside garlic and red onion, it forms what many cooks consider the holy trinity of Peruvian cooking. The pepper itself is deceptively complex — fruity, vibrant, and slightly sweet, with tropical notes and a moderate heat that never overwhelms. In Randolph's version, it announces itself immediately through its creamy textures, highlighted by the savoriness of the stewed chicken with chunks of boiled potatoes and white rice.

Seco de Res con Frijoles at Lomo Fuego — tender beef braised in chicha de jora and cilantro, served with canario beans and white rice.

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I also tried the Seco de Res con Frijoles, which tells a different story — tender beef braised in chicha de jora, an ancient Andean corn beer once consumed ceremonially during Inca religious festivals. With a sauce built on cilantro and ají amarillo, it’s served over white rice and canario beans, a Peruvian staple prized for its creamy, buttery texture. It's a dish that wears its history openly, with Spanish, African, and Indigenous traditions folded into every bite.

Pull up a chair

One of the things I noticed about dining at Lomo Fuego was its intimacy — eating in someone's backyard has a way of softening people. I arrived right when they opened, and soon thereafter, families of all ages stopped by, along with coworkers grabbing lunch and a neighbor checking in on an upcoming catering order.

Aji de Gallina at Lomo Fuego — shredded chicken in a creamy aji amarillo sauce, topped with a hard boiled egg

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"Seeing the people excited when they have that first bite — that's what motivates me every day," she said.

Outgrowing the Backyard

Lomo Fuego has grown beyond what Randolph ever imagined when she was cooking in a void in those early days. She's now pursuing a loan and scouting locations for a brick-and-mortar restaurant — the natural next step for a MEHKO kitchen that has outgrown its backyard. But she's clear about what she's taking with her.

"I hope in the future people can say, this still tastes like food from home."

The L.A. City Council voted unanimously Tuesday to make permanent a city pilot program that diverts police away from some mental health crisis calls.

Since launching in 2024, clinicians with the city’s Unarmed Model of Crisis Response have handled more than 17,000 calls for service, ranging from mental health crises to wellbeing checks. According to city reports, about 96% of those calls were resolved without police.

“We can’t keep deploying armed officers to handle mental health crisis calls because the outcome is Angelenos paying with loss of life and millions of their tax dollars for legal settlements,” Councilmember Eunisses Hernandez, who co-authored the motion to enshrine the program, said at Tuesday’s meeting.

According to Hernandez, in 2023, more than a third of LAPD shootings involved someone experiencing a mental health crisis.

Councilmember Marqueece Harris-Dawson said the data from city reports was "incontrovertible and unassailable," showing the program’s success at diverting police and fire first responders away from mental health crisis situations.

Council members said the move to make the unarmed model permanent was also a matter of fiscal responsibility. According to a news release from the offices of Hernandez and Councilmember Bob Blumenfield, on average it costs the city roughly $85 per hour to dispatch LAPD officers, while a response from a UMCR team costs roughly $35 per hour.

Last fall, progressive policy advocacy group LA Forward, convened a summit of local and state officials with the goal of making UMCR permanent and expanding it.

Godfrey Plata, deputy director of LA Forward, told LAist his group was “incredibly excited” to see the city make the pilot program permanent.

Plata said he sees enshrining the program as a first step in expanding the program citywide, which his group hopes to do by the 2028 Olympics.

How the program works

In 2024, the city partnered with three nonprofit organizations — Exodus Recovery, Alcott Center and Penny Lane Centers — to provide teams of trained clinicians in service areas spread across L.A. The teams are available 24 hours a day, seven days a week within the Police Department’s Devonshire, Wilshire, Southeast, West LA, Olympic and West Valley divisions.

Crisis response workers are trained in de-escalation techniques, mental health, substance use, conflict resolution and more, according to a report on the program from the Office of City Administrative Officer. The teams don’t have the authority to order psychiatric holds for people in crisis, but they can work with them to find help locally, and spend more time on follow up than law enforcement can.

In its first year, Los Angeles’s Unarmed Model of Crisis Response sent teams of unarmed clinicians to  more than 6,700 calls for service, ranging from mental health crises to wellbeing checks. Only about 4% were redirected to the LAPD. Average response times have been under 30 minutes.

Examples of these interactions include members of the teams taking food to a woman who was crying and hungry, working with a business owner to engage with someone sleeping in a parking lot and sitting with a family for nearly three hours to help resolve a conflict involving a relative.

What’s next

The motion approved Tuesday also directs city officials to form a working group made up of the LAPD, the L.A. Fire Department and other agencies to address inefficiencies in the dispatch system. The goal of the working group will be to centralize unarmed crisis response dispatch and improve response times.

Federal agents searched Los Angeles Unified School District headquarters and the San Pedro home of Superintendent Alberto Carvalho Wednesday morning, the Department of Justice confirmed.

The reason for the searches is unknown. A DOJ spokesperson said the agency has a court-authorized warrant, but declined to provide additional details. The FBI told our media partner CBS LA that the the underlying affidavit remained under court-ordered seal.

LAUSD published a statement online saying the district was aware of "law enforcement activity" at its headquarters and the superintendent's home.

"The District is cooperating with the investigation and we do not have further information at this time," the district said.

Neighbors told LAist they first noticed officers at Carvalho's home around 6 a.m. One of them, John, said an officer told him to stay in his home. LAist agreed not to publish his last name out of fear of reprisal.

At LAUSD's downtown headquarters, multiple district staff members told LAist they were unaware of the raids until they saw the media gathered outside.

Carvalho has been superintendent of LAUSD since 2022, and the board renewed his contract in 2025.

It remained unclear early Wednesday afternoon what the cause of the investigation was, or if it is in any way related to previous issues between the district and the Trump administration.

Carvalho and the district’s elected board have expressed unanimous support for immigrant students, staff and families since President Donald Trump was elected to a second term. The superintendent has also spoken openly about his own journey as a former undocumented immigrant.

The district's first major conflict with the administration began in February 2025, when agents from the Department of Homeland Security attempted to enter multiple LAUSD schools, but were rebuffed.

The DOJ also recently petitioned to join a lawsuit alleging the district discriminates against white students.

Consumers likely won't see cheaper prices at the grocery store or shopping mall, economists say, despite the Supreme Court striking down many of President Donald Trump's tariffs.

There are a couple reasons why: For one, the president has many tools to impose tariffs and the court decision last week only deemed one of them unconstitutional.

Within hours of the ruling, Trump said he was using a different law to reimpose taxes on global imports.

"The administration's made it very clear that they are not turning away from tariffs," says Mary Lovely, a senior fellow at the Peterson Institute for International Economics.

The second reason is a little more complex, a concept known as "price stickiness."

Here's what to know about why shoppers won't see price reductions anytime soon.

Presidential tariff tools

"The legal tool to implement it, that might change, but the policy hasn't changed," U.S. Trade Representative Jamieson Greer told ABC over the weekend.

The Supreme Court struck down Trump's authority to impose tariffs under the 1977 International Emergency Economic Powers Act (IEEPA), which no president had used to implement tariffs before. But, it's worth noting that these tariffs only accounted for about half of all the import taxes the government had been collecting.

Now that imposing tariffs under the law has been outlawed, the administration has quickly moved ahead with alternatives, even though they don't offer the sweeping power that Trump claimed to have under the IEEPA.

By Saturday, Trump said he was using Section 122 of the Trade Act of 1974 to implement worldwide tariffs of 15%, after initially saying he would impose them at 10%. He claimed in a social media post that this tariff level was "fully allowed, and legally tested."

"For a consumer, it doesn't really matter what authority that the president calls on to impose the tariff," says Carola Binder, an economics professor at the The University of Texas at Austin School of Civic Leadership. "Some particular tariffs might go down. And so that would mean that prices of particular goods could go down, but the overall level would remain pretty high."

Goldman Sachs analysts seem to agree.

"We estimate that the further impact on consumer prices will be minor from here," the analysts wrote over the weekend, noting that the "bulk" of companies passing on extra tariff costs to consumers has already occurred.

Similarly, analysis from the Peterson Institute said tariff rates "are set to be similar overall to their level prior to the court ruling, so consumers will continue to feel this tax increase. Prices will likely be higher at the store because the longer tariffs last, in whatever form, the more their costs are passed through to consumers."

Tariffs under Section 122 technically have a 150-day limit. But, Binder says, "after 150 days, if Congress doesn't extend the tariffs, it seems that the president could just let the first set of tariffs expire and then declare a new set again." Lawsuits over this are likely and this could end up at the Supreme Court again.

Section 301 of the Trade Act of 1974 allows tariffs in response to "unfair trade practices" of foreign countries, while Section 232 of the Trade Expansion Act of 1962 allows tariffs on certain national security grounds. (Section 301 tariffs on China have been in place since Trump's first term.)

There's also Section 338 of the Tariff Act of 1930, a never-used authority to use tariffs to retaliate against foreign discrimination against American goods.

Imposing tariffs under these laws all have stipulations and limitations attached and the administration's rationale could be challenged in court.

Still, "we're not going to see tariff relief in the longer run, and businesses know that," Lovely of the Peterson Institute says.

Stuck prices

Another reason customers are unlikely to see substantial price changes at the store is that in general, prices take time to adjust. It's a concept of "sticky prices."

It happens when "prices change more slowly than the underlying fundamental factors that go into pricing," Lovely says. A common example involves restaurants: if the price of one ingredient goes up, the restaurant might want to wait a bit before printing new menus that show a higher price for the dish, just in case the cost of ingredients changes again.

Prices can be sticky in either the high or low direction. But in this case, tariffs have led to higher prices for consumers, and they could stay that way.

The companies that have raised prices in response to tariffs are finding out whether consumers were willing to pay more for stuff all along. The tariffs have essentially been "a broad set of experiments, which will reveal to suppliers if their previous prices were profit maximizing or too low," marketing professor emeritus at Harvard Business School Robert Dolan told NPR last year. Suppliers may keep prices high if people keep paying, tariffs or not.

Also, many businesses, especially medium-size businesses, are still catching up to tariffs and adjusting how much of the cost they are passing on to customers, Lovely says. Some had stockpiled inventory ahead of tariffs.

"They haven't been able to pass it through completely yet, waiting to see what would happen," she says. "So they're going to be highly reluctant to roll back when they're still in the process of catching up."
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