The Brief

It all started with salpicón.

Nine years ago, Karla Tatiana Vasquez wanted to make the seasoned minced meat dish with radish and fresh mint that’s a staple in El Salvador.

She called her grandmother, Mama Lucy, for the recipe. It satisfied her salpicón craving — but it also made her curious to know if there were documented Salvadoran recipes available for her to come back to whenever she wanted.

When she looked online, she was dismayed to find only two cookbooks, both self-published — and one of them sold out.

This month, Vasquez is finally rectifying that omission with her cookbook, The SalviSoul Cookbook: Salvadoran Recipes and the women who preserve them — a compilation book of stories and recipes for Salvadorans who añoran, or long for, their homeland.

Salvadoran salpicón

(

Courtesy of Ren Fuller

)

Connection to her roots

Growing up, Vazquez was constantly searching for a connection to El Salvador, which she left behind in 1988 as a baby during the country’s civil war. Her family moved to Los Angeles where thousands of other Salvadorans also took refuge.

But it was always food, the dishes her mother, grandmother and other women in her life made, that was the strongest connection to her roots.

“I was trying to alleviate that pain that told me you're from a place you're not sure you’ll live [there] again,” said Vasquez.

She heard often that those who left El Salvador behind would forget who they are or where they come from. That was not a reality Vasquez wanted for herself.

Karla Vasquez

(

Courtesy of Ren Fuller

)

“If I can figure out how to touch home in the kitchen, and cook something, then I know how to find myself within myself,” said Vasquez.

She began trying to write down recipes for Salvadoran dishes. But when Vasquez would ask her mother to break down a recipe with measurements for staples like arroz frito, her mother couldn’t give her a direct answer. She would ask "how much salt do you add to this dish?" and her mother would say “Ay Karla, tu palader te dice" — Your palette will tell you.

“I thought it was this mysterious thing that I just didn’t have,” Vasquez said. Her grandmother would assure her and tell her that it will come to her. And it did, over time.

(Her grandmother, who was one of her biggest champions, recently passed away. Vasquez dedicates the cookbook to her).

" I feel like this book is only scratching the surface of everything I have learned in this journey. We have so much" — Karla Vasquez

(

Courtesy of Ren Fuller

)

SalviSoul features a range of Salvadoran dishes, with chapter headings like “Salvadoran Essentials” laying out pupusas de loroco (an edible small green flower), or riguas (a sweet corn cake wrapped in plantain leaves, filled with cheese or refried beans), and “Antojitos” (cravings), describing how to make empanadas de platano con leche.

There's also recipes for conejo parillado (grilled rabbit) and ceviche de pescado, which she learned from Salvadoran women in L.A.

The beauty of Salvadoran cuisine is reflected on the pages, with hues of orange, pink and green, all inspired by the produce you find in El Salvador like jocotes, mamey, alguashte and mangoes. Vasquez says Salvadoran foods are already very vibrant and she channeled those colors onto the pages.

"Salvi cuisine loves flora and fauna. We love eating the flowers that are edible in El Salvador," she says.

Weaved in are the personal anecdotes from the women who share their recipe. “I feel like every immigrant has an odyssey to tell,” said Vasquez.

Salvadorans make up one of the largest Latino populations in the U.S., and Los Angeles is home to the largest Salvadoran diaspora.

The signs of Salvis in L.A. are everywhere, from panaderias and pupuserias to our own Salvadoran Community Corridor in Pico Union, where murals of Monseñor Oscar Romero remind Salvis that our saint is always looking after us.

A likeness of Archbishop Oscar Romero, who was assassinated in 1980 near the start of the civil war in El Salvador, on a mural off a stretch of Vermont Ave. known as the El Salvador Community Corridor.

(

LESLIE BERESTEIN ROJAS

/

LAist

)

Nothing but pupusas 

When she would talk to other Salvis and other Latinos about her project, she constantly heard the same narrative — pupusas were the only recognizable Salvadoran food and there was nothing more.

Another person told her the only interesting cuisines in Latin America came from Mexico, Puerto Rico, the Caribbean, or Brazil. She was shocked.

Pasteles de hongo. Achiote powder is used to give the masa for pasteles the orange hue and is also used in other dishes like Salvadoran enchiladas.

(

Courtesy of Ren Fuller

)

“The myth was that there was nada, but I had this feeling, I bet there's a lot, and I bet that people are just — we're just repeating what we're hearing,” said Vasquez.

She set out to find out what makes Salvadoran cuisine, talking to an anthropology professor based in El Salvador, who told Vasquez that Salvi cuisine is fusion cuisine.

"We use a lot of ingredients that are native to Mesoamerica. Corn, tomatoes, beans, ayote, like, those are all things that are in the cuisine. Then there's also ingredients like, plantains, right? Those are definitely more Caribbean I feel because of how they made their way from Africa," said Vasquez.

She says Salvi cuisine loves to play with different flavors: "We love sour, we love tart, we love bitter."

Vasquez says even the cooking methodologies come from different cultures. Nuegados for example is a fried yucca patty that has a brown sugar molasses drizzled on top — Vasquez thinks of Jewish latkes when she thinks of nuegados.

And a lot of Salvi cooking is also done over a fire, so a lot of dishes have that fire-grilled flavor to them.

Preserve point of view

Initially Vasquez doubted whether she would have enough to say in her cookbook. But she cast that doubt aside and started with the recipes from her family.

She knew her mother had at least 40 recipes under belt. And speaking with other women, she learned more.

Vasquez said that the women she interviewed reacted differently to her questions — some felt chastised for not having every detail written down, others felt embarrassed. Vasquez assured them she wasn’t questioning their methods.

Some felt they had nothing to share, that their dish wasn’t special, that it was “nothing." So instead of arguing with them, Vasquez asked them to share what they thought was nothing — and from there, she learned recipes she had never heard of, like gallo en chicha, a rooster cooked in homemade wine that takes five days to make from scratch.

“I want to appreciate what you consider delicious and once we've isolated how to get there, I want to make sure that we can still access it and replicate it,” said Vasquez. “I want to preserve your point of view in there and we can do that through this recipe.”

Pupusas de loroco, an edible flower that's used in many Salvadoran dishes.

(

Courtesy of Ren Fuller

)

Timing is everything

Vasquez started this journey in 2015 by creating an online community. On her Salvi Soul Instagram she shared pictures of different Salvadoran foods and held Facebook Live conversations with other Salvadoran chefs.

Then in 2020 the L.A. Times wrote a piece about her efforts to make Salvi Soul into a reality. The piece noted a frequent wall that Vasquez was always hitting — Salvadoran cuisine was unknown and major publishers couldn’t buy into the unknown.

The piece was pivotal to Vasquez’s journey because it created what she describes as “a big splash," and more networking connections opened up.

This was the year when the racial reckoning over the summer of 2020 compelled businesses to think twice about their diversity practices.

Bon Appétit came under fire when chef Sohla El-Waylly called out her previous employer on their diversity problems, like underpaying chefs of color.

Jeanine Cummins' controversial novel American Dirt — which was highly praised by a white audience but criticized by Latinx authors and readers — also highlighted the publishing industry's practices of favoring white authors retelling of immigrant experiences and the lack of Latinx representation in the industry.

All of this is crucial to understanding how Vasquez’s book finally got a green light a couple years later with an agent who, Vasquez says, was "beyond ecstatic" to get this book out.

In total, the cookbook features 33 recipes. But Vasquez says she didn’t create just a cookbook, but a community of Salvadoran women, whether it's the people on her team who are from El Salvador or those she met along the way here in Los Angeles.

And her work won’t stop here. She’s currently cooking up another concept. For now, she eagerly awaits the book's release on April 30 and the reaction from her community.

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has announced several significant rule changes for the 99th Oscars, including AI protections for actors and writers as well as expanded eligibility for international films.

In a statement to NPR, the Academy on Saturday said the changes are in response to listening to the global filmmaking community and addressing barriers to entry in its eligibility process.

The Academy added that its rules and eligibility standards have always evolved alongside technologies such as sound, color, and CGI, and that AI is no different. Awards rules and guidelines are reviewed and refined each year.

A blow for Tilly Norwood 

Among the most noteworthy changes, the Academy now explicitly states that only roles, "demonstrably performed by humans with their consent" are eligible for Acting awards. In other words, AI creations like the much-hyped Tilly Norwood cannot hope to win a Best Actress Oscar anytime soon.

Particle6, the production company behind Norwood, did not immediately respond to NPR's request for comment on Saturday about its creations' ban from consideration. In March, Norwood commented, "Can't wait to go to the Oscars!" in an Instagram post announcing its newly released music video.

The Academy also requires screenplays to be "human-authored" and said it reserved the right to investigate the use of generative AI in any submission.

Meanwhile, qualifying flesh-and-blood human actors can now be nominated for multiple performances in the same category if those performances get enough votes to land in the top five. So, someone like Anne Hathaway, who has five major movies scheduled for release in 2026, could now theoretically sweep the nominations – though that outcome seems extremely unlikely.

"If an actor has an extremely prolific year, might we even see someone swallow up three of the five nominations?," wrote Deadline's awards columnist and chief film critic Pete Hammond about the changes. "Probably won't happen, but it's now possible."

Under previous rules, an actor could only receive one nomination per category. If they had two high-ranking performances in Best Actor, for example, only the one with the most votes would move forward.

International films prioritizes filmmakers over countries

While international films can still be the official selection of their countries, now they can qualify by winning the top prize at a major international festival such as the Palme d'Or at Cannes, the Golden Lion at Venice, or the World Cinema Grand Jury Prize at Sundance.

Historically, countries "owned" the nomination, and only one film per country was allowed. The new rules allow multiple films from the same country to compete if they are critically acclaimed, and it shifts the honor from a geopolitical entity to the filmmakers themselves.

Largely positive response

The changes have prompted a largely positive reaction from the film community on social media, such as on the popular The Shade Room entertainment and celebrity-focused Instagram feed, where commenters widely praised the "human-only" move to protect creative jobs.

The Academy's Awards Committee oversees the rules in tandem with branch executive committees, the International Feature Film Executive Committee and the Scientific and Technical Awards Executive Committee.

The rules are scheduled to go into effect next year, covering films released in 2026.

Copyright 2026 NPR

Los Angeles changes fast, and oftentimes that means some of the architectural relics of our shared past get swept up and paved over in all the "progress." (RIP Garden of Allah.)

But there are still places where you can find ruins that tell a tale, like a long-forgotten speakeasy reputedly for old Hollywood near La Crescenta.

The ruins are still there 

On a recent afternoon, author and local historian Mike Lawler led me just beyond the boundary of Crescenta Valley Park. Joggers like me might have seen an old, towering stone arch shrouded by bushes there — and wondered what lies beyond.

Turns out there was once a place called the Verdugo Lodge back there and Lawler has spent years excavating its history.

A car speeds away from the lodge onto New York Avenue. The stone archway that still stands can be seen in the background.

(

Kadletz Family Archives)

)

“It was a very high-end speakeasy for a time,” Lawler, who also helps run the Historical Society of the Crescenta Valley, said. “An amazing thing. And all the ruins are still here, just like this arch.”

Lawler said we don’t know exactly when the lodge was built, but we do have some of the picture starting in the late 1920s. The place was set up kind of like a timeshare where people bought 10 x 10 foot ‘tent lots’ that gave them access to on-site amenities. There was a golf course, stables, trout stream, a swimming pool — and a lodge with gambling and alcohol.

“The Crescenta Valley in the teens and '20s was a hotbed of moonshine, prostitution, all that stuff," Lawler said. "It was a quiet little community. But in all these canyons up here, stuff was going on. Illegal stuff!”

We don’t have a full guest list, but Lawler said it’s likely at least a few Hollywood types had gone up to the lodge to circumvent Prohibition era laws.

In some ways, it was kind of like the original glamping. Lawler said patrons probably weren’t doing much sleeping, though.

“They might have been unconscious!” he said with a chuckle.

Lawler led me to a road that swooped around a meadow. We passed by a massive swimming pool nestled into the hillside.

Once known as the “Crystal Pool,” it’s now empty and fenced off, with pitch black locker rooms below.

The exterior of the locker rooms for the old Crystal Pool.

(

Robert Garrova / LAist

)

We continued our journey up the hill and eventually arrived at a cascading stone stairway.

And at the top, the big show: overgrown with orange monkey flowers and goliath agaves lies the foundation of the old Verdugo Lodge, with lofty stone fireplaces the only guardians keeping the surrounding oak trees at bay.

Lawler takes out a floorplan that one of the former owners drew up for him.

“This is what it was laid out like on the inside. So a dancehall, and band stand on that side... And then upstairs was the gambling,” Lawler said.

Lawler had in hand a copy of a Los Angeles Times article from 1933 he found. The headline reads: “Revelers Flee in Lodge Raid.”

“The police that raided it were here at 3 o'clock in the morning. And there were still 500 people here. And they said it was the classiest joint they had ever raided... Anyway, people were diving out of windows and everything,” Lawler explained.

In a ruin like this, covered with moss and overgrowth, the imagination can run wild, too.

The archway that still stands outside of what's now known as Mountain Oaks.

(

Robert Garrova / LAist

)

Lawler pointed out a questionable door jam below the old dancefloor that’s been cemented over.

“That is a door. So what is behind there? So there’s a room in there that got walled in for some reason,” he said.

What we do know is that, sometime after the raid, the tawdry Verdugo Lodge and the surrounding land were purchased and then renamed Mountain Oaks by the Kadletzes — an entrepreneurial family who had run everything from a Turkish bath to a mini golf course. Over the next few decades, the family would rent the place out to local groups for recreational retreats.

The future of Mountain Oaks 

After they sold it in the ‘60s, Lawler said Mountain Oaks faced a “nightmare” of development threats. Over the years, some of the subdivided "tent lots" had been combined and sold off, Lawler said. A dozen private homes now stand on these pieces of land, next to the ruins of the Verdugo Lodge.

A map showing the Mountain Oaks public property acquired by The Mountains Recreation and Conservation Authority (MRCA).

(

Courtesy MRCA

)

Last year, with help from the City of Glendale, a U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development grant among other funding sources, the Mountains Recreation and Conservation Authority (MRCA) put up $6.1 million to acquire 33-acres of the land — not including the private lots where the homes stand — so the public can continue to roam the meadow and ruins.

Paul Edelman, MRCA's director of natural resources and planning, said his group will continue to manage the land, doing things like brush clearance, trash pickup and sign maintenance. And he said there are no current plans to remove the ruins or make any major changes to the property.

“If somebody comes up with a grand idea where they can find some funding for us to do something to enhance it, we’re always open to it,” Edelman said.

The purchase was good news for local preservationist Joanna Linkchorst.

“I grew up directly up the hill. But I always saw the sign that said ‘private property’ and didn’t really think about it until several years ago when I finally asked Mike. And he said, ‘Oh yeah, we got a resort speakeasy down the street,’” Linkchorst said standing among the oaks and overgrowth.

Linkchorst, who founded the group Friends of Rockhaven to preserve another nearby historic site, said it’s been amazing to see all of the decaying structures that were still hiding out at Mountain Oaks.

“There’s almost like these little ghosts in your head as you imagine what it was like when there was a beautiful wood floor and there was a second floor that people came jumping out of,” Linkchorst said.

Now, let’s check in to the Overlook Hotel.

That’s the fictional place Stanley Kubrick brought to life in his 1980 film The Shining, loosely based on Stephen King’s novel of the same name.

A local architect who hails from South Pasadena meticulously crafted a 3D model of the iconic space so Shining fans everywhere never have to check out.

‘I just couldn’t stop’ 

At his day job, architect Anthony Chieh mainly works on residential and boutique commercial spaces. But over the course of five months, he spent his nights meticulously recreating a virtual replica of the Overlook Hotel from the film that first scared him when he was 12.

Of course he started with the deeply haunted Room 237. That’s where Jack Torrance, played by Jack Nicholson, has a terrifying encounter with a ghostly woman.

Chieh's 3D rendering of Room 237

(

Anthony Chieh

)

“But once I started, I just couldn’t stop,” Chieh told LAist.

“I ended up modeling the Colorado Lounge, and then after that I was thinking maybe I should make the lobby and then arriving to the Gold Room, and then Grady’s bathroom.”

“It’s like a rabbit hole,” he said.

Users who download Chieh’s free 3D model can fly through all of those spaces, immersed in atmospheric sounds and music from the film.

“It’s interesting to dive into these kind of fictional environments and try to make sense of it,” Chieh said. “And the hope is people will get a different perspective once they’re in there.”

Kubrick’s take on the Overlook was famously inspired by real hotels like the Timberline Lodge in Oregon and the Ahwahnee in Yosemite. But the interiors you see in the film were created on sound stages in England.

“Real architecture, physical buildings, are built for people to live. And for movies, these are more meant to express the emotional aspect of things. It’s a psychological construct,” Chieh said.

In a recently published video essay on YouTube, Chieh dives deep into those psychological constructs and how, as he puts it, “Kubrick designed the Overlook Hotel not as a backdrop, but as the film's true villain.”

How spaces scare 

Chieh said during the monthslong process he was reminded of the power of architecture and design in the real world too – whether it’s an uncomfortably repetitive carpet design or a claustrophobic hallway.

“A physical construct can affect your emotion,” Chieh said.

“You can use it in a way to make people feel comfortable and you can also use it in a way to create fear.”

Chieh's 3D rendering of the Torrance's apartment in 'The Shining'

(

Anthony Chieh

)

What’s next for this architect moonlighting as a 3D modeler?

Chieh says he’s thinking about giving the spaceship from “2001: A Space Odyssey" the virtual treatment next. Or maybe turning to a local non-fictional space, like the Stahl House.

That is, of course, if he can ever escape the Overlook.