The Brief

On a Saturday afternoon at Milk Jar Cookies in Mid-Wilshire, Courtney Cowan tells customer after customer the same thing. She’s completely sold out.

“We opened at 10, so they started lining up around 9:15 or 9:30," she says. "We’re certainly serving everything we’ve got, trying to keep up with the beautiful demand."

Customers new and old have flocked to the shop to get one last taste of her delicious, signature dough. They’ve all heard the news: After 10 years, Cowan is reluctantly closing Milk Jar Cookies on Jan. 15.

Milk Jar Cookies has been inundated with orders since they announced their upcoming closure in late December.

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“It’s been bittersweet, because a lot of old faces have come,” she says. “My hope when I opened was to be like the Cheers of cookies, where we know everybody’s name. We’ve done that.”

Milk Jar Cookies is a true labor of love. Back in 2012, Cowan left her job in television to pursue her cookie dream full time. She opened a second Encino location in 2022. But in December, she announced both shops will close due to untenable financial hurdles.

“We’ve been fighting for our life for about six months,” she says through tears. “Unfortunately, it just became a mountain too high for us to climb.”

Cowan’s experience echoes that of many L.A. restaurateurs in 2023. Between steep food and labor costs, lingering pandemic effects, and six months of Hollywood strikes, it's been a devastating year for the food business. A long list of establishments were forced to reduce their operations or close their doors permanently.

Courtney Cowan opened Milk Jar Cookies in 2012, after leaving her job in television to pursue her cookie business dream full time.

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“When we’re busier than ever and we’re still overdue on bills … it just wasn’t enough,” Cowan says. “We’re just being squeezed from all sides.”

Pandemic pressure

Nearly four years ago, the world’s introduction to COVID-19 irreversibly changed the restaurant industry. Without the option of on-site dining, consumers moved toward carry out and delivery — shuttering countless restaurants.

Many of those that stayed afloat did so with the help of government relief programs that have now dried up, like Paycheck Protection Program loans and the Restaurant Revitalization Fund.

Walter Manzke's Petty Cash Taqueria closed on Oct. 20 after 10 years serving tacos and cocktails.

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Courtesy Manzke Hospitality Group

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Those were crucial for seasoned chefs Walter Manzke and Margarita Manzke to keep their signature restaurant, République, open throughout the pandemic.

Unfortunately, the opposite happened at two of their other businesses: Petty Cash Taqueria shut its doors in October, and Sari Sari Store followed in December.

“Financially, they just couldn’t take the hit. There was just not enough volume going in there where it made sense to continue on,” Walter Manzke says.

James Beard award-winning chef Margarita Manzke ran Sari Sari Store at Grand Central Market for nearly seven years until it announced its closure in mid-December.

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Courtesy Manzke Hospitality Group

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Sari Sari Store — which built its home in Grand Central Market — relied on the steady flow of downtown L.A. office workers. Manzke says that’s completely changed with hybrid work. Offices just aren’t as bustling as they were in 2019.

Almost 75% of restaurant traffic today remains “off premises,” according to the National Restaurant Association. Before March 2020, it was closer to 61% — meaning people are more reliant on their takeout options than they were pre-pandemic.

On top of that, Southern California consumers are far less brand loyal compared to previous decades, according to San Diego-based restaurant consultant Ben Brown.

“People are always looking at that shiny next object, and it’s very difficult for a restaurant to keep up with that,” he says.

He also points to a boom in competition right after pandemic closures were lifted, which may have backfired for the industry.

“A lot of groups wanted to bring a new dining experience to the world once the world reopened. It seems that the market wasn’t really there to support all those new concepts.”

Rising costs

Los Angeles is expensive. Running a restaurant here isn’t cheap — or easy. Food service is a notoriously low-margin business within a competitive market, says Brown.

The traditional restaurant model splits things 30/30/30/10: 30% of revenue toward labor, 30% toward food and beverage, 30% toward fixed costs like rent and utilities, and 10% (at best) left over in profit.

Nowadays, rising costs of rent, food, and labor are distorting that breakdown.

“What you’re seeing is restaurants getting squeezed on all levels for that 10% to dissipate, and for a restaurant to be lucky to turn a profit whatsoever,” says Brown.

The rising cost of food is a top concern for operators nationwide. In Los Angeles, 65% of restauranteurs reported that all or most of their vendors increased prices in the past year, according to data by restaurant management system TouchBistro.

Labor is also pricey. California offered one of the highest minimum wages in 2024, at $16 — up from $15.50 last year. Under Assembly Bill 1228, hourly wages at large fast food chains will increase to $20 starting in April. Small business owners hiring from the same pool of workers say they can’t compete.

“Of course, people need to have a living wage. There's no question about it. The problem is: how do you operate a business successfully in order to accommodate the rising cost of labor, when your customer is not willing to pay the price premium that comes with that?”

Silver Lake Spanish restaurant Bar Moruno closed in early November.

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Bar Moruno

In November, chef Chris Feldmeier made the painful decision to close his beloved Bar Moruno, an upscale Spanish restaurant in Silver Lake.

“Even if you’re running the best restaurant … your labor is up to 40%. It’s really hard, there’s not a lot of profit or anything left over,” he says.

As a “kitchen guy,” Feldmeier is all for higher wages. But he says the restaurant industry as a whole hasn't been able to keep up. “We ran a fantastic food cost to try to mitigate some of these hourly wages and stuff, and we still had a tough go at it.”

Restaurateurs like Feldmeier haven't been going down without a fight. Cost-saving measures like mandatory service charges and smaller menus are more common. "Many of these operations have had to fundamentally re-engineer how they conduct business," says Hudson Riehle, senior vice president of research for the National Restaurant Association.

Menu prices are 10-25% higher than they were in 2022, according to the James Beard Foundation.

Empty shelves within Milk Jar Cookies' industrial refrigerator are common as orders pour in during their final weeks in business.

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Over the years, Cowan raised her cookie prices from $3 to $4, and began selling supplemental items like snackable dough, ice cream, and merchandise. She still couldn’t keep up with steep rent increases and a utility bill now 50% higher each month, while still paying her staff a competitive wage.

“Every single facet of owning a business has become more expensive and more difficult,” she says.

Hollywood strikes

In this company town, small businesses struggled through last year’s dual strikes by writers and actors — even while supporting them.

Cowan offered discounts for both guilds, and passed out cookies on several picket lines. However, she says the stall hit some small business owners even harder than COVID.

“When all of the orders from that whole industry cease and evaporate for almost eight months, that makes a massive impact,” she says.

The California economy lost up to $7 billion from the strikes, according to estimates by Todd Holmes, professor of entertainment industry management at California State University, Northridge. He says restaurants saw a 20-40% loss in revenue.

“Normally, they might have three different deliveries they’re doing in a day to studio sets, and it went from three a day to maybe, one or two a week,” he says.

Milk Jar Cookies was among the places that counted on set deliveries and gifts for agents and managers, in addition to events that were canceled during the strikes. “Our whole town depends on that industry, whether it’s toy stores or doggy daycares or bakeries or restaurants,” says Cowan.

Bar Moruno’s business also suffered from the loss of industry clientele in Silver Lake. Chef Feldmeier likens the entertainment industry to Los Angeles’ “steel mill" — if it shuts down, everything shuts down.

“I think that was a death blow to a lot of restaurants, including mine."

Winter blues

December was especially flooded with closure announcements, from classic gems like Marco’s Italian Restaurant to The Federal Bar in North Hollywood.

That’s probably not a coincidence; winter is a notoriously difficult time for restaurant operators, according to restaurant consultant Brown. 

“It’s colder out, and people dine out less. That said, if a restaurant is going to stay open during the winter, they’re typically going to want to stay open through the holidays.” 

Many places depend on that holiday bump to get them through the rest of winter. January and February is when they’ll assess whether it was enough. That means more closures are likely over the next few months.

For Cowan’s Milk Jar Cookies, even the holiday rush — which they can usually count on — didn’t cut it this year. They didn’t get a single order from an entertainment industry company.  

“It just wasn’t enough,” Cowan says. “With all the other steps we had taken, I was really hopeful that we could get on the road to recovery. It just became very obvious that it was a hill too steep.”

Closing up shop

In its final weeks, the energy inside Milk Jar Cookies resembles its bustling, pre-pandemic self, filled with “beautiful, blissful chaos,” as Cowan puts it.

Orders spit out of a kitchen printer as she greets dedicated customers with teary eyes and hugs, thanking them for years of patronage and heartfelt words. They jot notes in a guest book before saying goodbye.

Between taking orders, Cowan says goodbye to long-time customers and friends who pass through Milk Jar Cookies.

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Sallie Patrick — screenwriter and former co-worker from Cowan’s television days — walks into the shop, two kids in tow. Cowan gets emotional at the sight of her friend, who encouraged her to pursue her cookie dream in the first place.

“I’m so proud of her. It was so cool to show my kids an example of this woman who just decided to start this business, and was so successful at it,” Patrick says.

For Cowan, it’s always been bigger than cookies. The outpouring of community support has reminded her that she’s not alone in that sentiment.

She's not sure what's next, but she's sure how she'll remember Milk Jar Cookies: “On the best of days or the worst of days, you could come in and leave feeling a little better than when you came in.”

The federal financial aid process opened this past week for students applying to college for next year. But for many California students, a source of state financial help remains untapped.

In 2022, the state launched the California Kids Investment and Development Savings Program, also known as CalKIDS, and began creating investment accounts for more than 6 million children in the state to use for higher education.

Babies born on or after July 1, 2022, can get up to $175 in their accounts, while low-income public school students can claim up to $1500.

In Los Angeles County, about 1.1 million public school students are eligible for the accounts, but fewer than 20% of kids have claimed them, said Cassandra DiBenedetto, executive director of California’s ScholarShare Investment Board. The claim rate is even less for babies — about 11%.

“The money itself, it has a long trajectory. So you have these newborns, and there's not a sense of urgency among some parents; they know the account's there, it’s been created. Parents are busy,” DiBenedetto said.

There is no deadline to claim the money, which is already growing in the investment accounts. (You do have to use the money by age 26). But DiBenedetto says kids are more likely to see themselves as college-bound if they have it — and will be able to watch the account grow over time.

“ You talk to second-and third graders who are like, ‘I'm gonna go to UC Santa Barbara,’ ‘I'm gonna go to Cal Berkeley,’” she said.

The state is working with the Los Angeles Unified School District and other school districts to get students signed up.

The city’s top financial adviser is recommending that the Los Angeles City Council deny a police department request to procure 300 additional vehicles for the 2028 Olympics and Paralympics.

The report, submitted to the council Monday by City Administrative Officer Matt Szabo, found that the L.A. Police Department would have enough vehicles to temporarily expand its fleet during the Games without the additional cars.

LAPD officials had previously requested around $31 million, arguing the additional officers deployed for the Games will need additional vehicles for their police work.

But Szabo disagreed in his report, finding instead that the department would soon have a large enough fleet.

“Given the current available vehicles and new vehicle procurements which have already been funded, it is not recommended to authorize the procurement of any additional police vehicles for the 2028 Games deployment,” Szabo wrote.

An LAPD spokesperson declined to comment on the city administrative officer’s report. Previously, the department has emphasized that its request seeks only to temporarily expand its fleet, with plans to retire old vehicles after the Games.

The police department has offered different estimates of how many additional vehicles it will need to patrol the Olympics. Two months after the LAPD asked for an additional 300 vehicles, the department released another report estimating an even higher need: 576 police vehicles.

Either way, Szabo’s report found that more than 1,100 police vehicles not yet in use by the department were funded in the past three budget cycles. He said those should be sufficient for the Olympics.

When you sit down at Birria Pa La Cruda in El Sereno, you might be expecting one thing. What you'll leave talking about is something else entirely, and it's just as good.

Take the mushroom quesataco. It starts with a tortilla brushed with avocado oil and griddled until lightly crisp, then layered with a thin skirt of cheese and a smooth smear of refried red kidney beans. On top goes a heap of shimeji mushrooms braised in a house-made salsa verde, mild, nutty and savory with a bright finish.

It's a slight departure for chef Carlos Jaquez, who spent seven years building a reputation for the birria de res at his popular pop-up. Now, at his new brick-and-mortar just blocks from where he got his start, he's serving his much-loved birria alongside several vegetable-focused dishes — including this one.

You get the sense that Jaquez has been refining each one for years through his pop-up, his work as a private chef and his high-end dining background at Otium and Bestia.

Homegrown talent

Jaquez grew up in El Sereno and launched Birria Pa La Cruda (which means “for the hangover” in Spanish) as a Sunday pop-up in 2019. Over the years, he's drawn on everything from his family's cooking to his Indigenous roots, to the bounty of local produce, building a repertoire that showcases the full range of his influences. His new place, on Alhambra Road near Cal State L.A., is his chance to prove it.

Carlos Jaquez, chef and owner of Birria Pa La Cruda, draws on the El Sereno community where he grew up and a wide range of culinary influences.

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"I don't wanna just be the birria guy," Jaquez said. "If people know me for just the birria, then I'm sure that one day when I cook something else they'll be like, 'Wow, he can cook other stuff too.'"

The menu

The mushroom quesataco may be exquisite, but Jaquez's birria de res hardly takes a back seat. For example: the mulita. Two corn tortillas are dipped in spiced 12-hour braising liquid, and the beef he uses is cooked in a pot lined with charred blue agave leaves that Jaquez harvests from the El Sereno hills. The meat is piled on thick, then topped with cheese, resulting in a juicy, well-seasoned bite where all the flavors and textures meld together. It's a mouthful, but the mulita shows backbone, never falling apart bite after bite.

The sweet potato tamal, topped with date-almond mole and sesame seeds, served with red amaranth leaves and pickled vegetables.

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Eric Valle

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Courstesy Birria Pa La Cruda

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Where the birria is a constant, the tamal is expected to change with the seasons. Right now, it's sweet potato and organic yellow corn masa steamed in a banana leaf, then topped with a rich mole made from California-grown dates and almonds. It's entirely vegan, though Jaquez doesn't advertise it that way. It's served alongside pickled carrots and a small salad of amaranth leaves grown just outside the space and dressed in a confit garlic vinaigrette.

Amaranth was a staple for Indigenous peoples in Mexico long before the Spanish arrived. Jaquez, who attended Anahuacalmecac, an Indigenous-focused charter school in El Sereno where students learn Nahuatl from third grade through high school, wanted it on the plate.

"We were eating amaranth and tamales and maybe even combining them thousands and thousands of years ago," he said. "Serving that on a menu today is a reflection of the resilience of our roots."

California love

Jaquez believes the caliber of his cooking comes from using local ingredients, whether it’s tortillas and masa milled in Boyle Heights by Kernel of Truth or heirloom tomatoes from Valdivia Farms in Carlsbad.

Chef Carlos Jaquez's birria de res is braised for 8 to 12 hours before it's served.

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Courtesy Birria Pa La Cruda

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"Its uniqueness comes from the locality and the quality of the ingredients that we're afforded because we're in L.A. and California," he said.

So, is it a taqueria or a restaurant?

"I don't know," Jaquez said. "It's Birria Pa La Cruda."

California’s district attorneys and the state attorney general will now have the ability to sue individual businesses that they believe are engaging in anticompetitive conduct.

But for some of its biggest proponents, it’s a hollow victory.

Gov. Gavin Newsom on Wednesday signed Assembly Bill 1776, known as the Compete Act, bringing an end to one of the most hard-fought political battles of the year. Unions and consumer rights groups supported the bill, but the state’s influential Chamber of Commerce fiercely opposed it and won several concessions to water it down.

Assemblymember Cecilia-Aguiar Curry, a powerful Davis Democrat, introduced the bill to modernize the century-old Cartwright Act, which regulates only anticompetitive conduct by two or more businesses. Many progressive Democrats, concerned about corporate consolidation of business in industries such as healthcare, ticket sales and retail, signed on as co-authors.

Newsom signed the bill along with six other small business-friendly bills on the constitutional deadline for signing legislation.

“We’re taking on predatory practices that drive up costs and shut entrepreneurs out — making sure California’s economy works for everyone, not just the biggest and best-connected,” he wrote in a release announcing his approval.

However, his signing message on AB 1776 was more circumspect.

“While I align myself with a stated goal of targeting anti-competitive conduct that harms consumers, workers, and businesses alike, we must be careful not to set the bar too low — dragging legitimate, superior business practices and products into the ambit of anti-competitive behavior,” he wrote.

He added that he expects judges and prosecutors to interpret and apply the law “in ways that penalize clear wrongdoing, without creating needless uncertainty.”

Lee Hepner, senior legal counsel at the American Economic Liberties Project, a former sponsor of the bill, wrote in a post on X that Newsom’s signing message made Hepner pessimistic that the law would be effective.

“I foresee politicized antitrust litigation budgets, partisan allegations of weaponized enforcement, novel legal defenses that find new basis in the legislative history of this bill, and public officials caving to the concentrated private power that antitrust laws are supposed to put in check,” he wrote.

The group had helped craft the legislation for years, but changed its position when Aguiar-Curry removed a “private right of action” provision that would have allowed any individual or business to sue a company they allege is harming them through anticompetitive tactics.

Other supporters included the California Federation of Labor Unions and TechEquity Action, a progressive advocacy group that lobbies for regulation of the tech industry.

Labor Federation President Lorena Gonzalez said in a statement that the new law “gets us one step closer to building a more affordable economy for working people.”

The bill grew out of a three-year review by the California Law Revision Commission, which the Legislature had asked to study changes to the 1907 Cartwright Act.

The private right of action was one of the biggest sticking points for CalChamber, which argued it would “expose businesses of all sizes to a wave of frivolous lawsuits.” The group launched a multimillion-dollar ad campaign over the summer to push to weaken the proposed law. Tech companies such as Meta and Google also spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to lobby legislators on AB 1776 and other issues.

Although Aguiar-Curry said she was disappointed the private right of action was gutted in the last weeks of the legislative session, she pressed on, and lawmakers passed the bill in the last days.

“California now has stronger tools to protect our small businesses, workers, and consumers and to make sure our markets work for everyone,” she said in Wednesday’s release.

This article was originally published on CalMatters and was republished under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license.