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The Brief

The most important stories for you to know today
  • How one state represents nation's vaccine battle
    a woman sits on a couch in a living room and on each side of her is a child playing with toys
    Kate Morrow and her 8-year-old twins, Jack and Lilly, at their home in Spartanburg County, S.C. Morrow struggles to understand why many of her neighbors haven't vaccinated their kids.
    Topline:
    Kate Morrow and her family moved to Spartanburg County, S.C., in 2019. The area is the epicenter of the biggest measles outbreak in the U.S. in more than three decades, with nearly 1,000 confirmed cases. Measles — one of the world's most contagious diseases — was declared eliminated in the U.S. in 2000, thanks to widespread vaccination and school vaccine requirements.

    But with the current resurgence of measles, the country is at risk of losing that elimination status.
    How did we get here: The answer is a mix of widespread misinformation, lingering resentment over COVID mandates, and politicians at the local and national level who are sowing mistrust of vaccines.

    What can be done: Public health researchers say eliminating nonmedical exemptions to vaccine requirements could help raise falling vaccination rates. But in South Carolina, where opposition to government mandates is firmly entrenched, that's unlikely to happen. Last week, the state legislature shot down a bill that would have kept unvaccinated children out of schools.

    Read on ... for more about parents' vaccine fears and what doctors say their role can be amid heightened parental anxiety.

    When Kate Morrow gave birth to twins eight years ago, they were very premature, with compromised immune systems.

    "We counted on the community to keep our children safe," Morrow says. She trusted that her neighbors were vaccinating their children to protect other vulnerable people in her community — including her twins. But that's no longer the case.

    Morrow and her family moved to Spartanburg County, S.C., in 2019. The area is the epicenter of the biggest measles outbreak in the U.S. in more than three decades, with nearly 1,000 confirmed cases. Measles — one of the world's most contagious diseases — was declared eliminated in the U.S. in 2000, thanks to widespread vaccination and school vaccine requirements.

    But with the current resurgence of measles, the country is at risk of losing that elimination status.

    In Spartanburg County, school vaccination rates have fallen to just under 89% — well below the 95% threshold needed to prevent community outbreaks.

    And it's not just Spartanburg. There are places around the country where vaccination rates have sunk to levels low enough to allow outbreaks to flare, says Michael Osterholm, director of the University of Minnesota's Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy.

    "There are a lot more South Carolinas waiting to happen," he says.

    Morrow says it's hard for her to understand why so many parents in her community are turning against vaccines.

    "How did we get here?" she asks. "How did we get to a place where we don't trust our doctors to do the very best thing for our children? How did we get to a place where vaccinations have become political?"

    The answer is a mix of widespread misinformation, lingering resentment over COVID mandates and politicians at the local and national level who are sowing mistrust of vaccines.

    'I don't trust anything anymore'

    Margarita DeLuca says she didn't give much thought to vaccines until COVID hit. She has three children and lives in neighboring Greenville County. When the COVID vaccine was first rolled out, DeLuca was scared that it had been developed too quickly to be trustworthy, and she was opposed to vaccine mandates.

    "I think it should have been a choice. It shouldn't have been shoved down your throat like you have to do it," DeLuca says.

    DeLuca is not alone. Resentment over vaccine mandates and other public health measures during the pandemic prompted more parents to question vaccine requirements, says Dr. Martha Edwards, president of the South Carolina chapter of the American Academy of Pediatrics.

    "COVID hit and people really didn't like the mandates and that was a big boiling point," Edwards says. "And in South Carolina, that really has caused a lot of people to escalate their feelings of 'don't tell me what to do.' "

    Still, when DeLuca's eldest child, Nikko, was born in the summer of 2021, she got him his routine shots for the first couple of years of his life.

    But about a week after he got his 2-year-old vaccinations, Nikko spiked a fever and experienced a seizure.

    "He froze up and then he started convulsing right in my arms — the scariest thing ever," DeLuca recalls.

    Nikko recovered. Her pediatrician at the time told her these seizures can happen when toddlers get high fevers, and it's unlikely vaccines played a role. But DeLuca remains dubious.

    "He hasn't had any seizures since. But he hasn't had any vaccines either. I'm not saying it's from that, but there is a chance," she says.

    So, like a growing number of parents nationwide, DeLuca decided to forgo vaccinations for Nikko, now 4, and his twin infant siblings.

    "I'm grateful that I did not vaccinate them right now," she says. "Maybe at 5 years old, their bodies are bigger and they have a higher immune system. They can handle things."

    Local pediatrician Stuart Simko with Prisma Health in Greer, S.C., says he hears this from other parents. And he tries to explain why delaying vaccinations is risky.

    "This is the time where your child is at a higher risk, the younger they are, for complications from many of the things that we vaccinate against," he says.

    For instance, the measles, mumps and rubella, or MMR, vaccine can prevent serious complications from measles like brain swelling and pneumonia, both of which have been documented among children in this outbreak. Vaccines can also prevent immune amnesia, a phenomenon where the virus wipes out parts of the immune system, leaving kids vulnerable to new infections for several years.

    And the virus can be deadly. Before the first vaccines were developed in the 1960s measles used to kill hundreds of U.S. children every year.

    Simko says he tries not to judge parents but to listen to their fears.

    "The parent who's choosing not to vaccinate their child, they're not trying to make a bad medical decision. They want what's best for their child. And we have to understand where they're coming from," he says.

    Social media is a big problem. Many of Simko's patients are overwhelmed by information; some of it is good, he says and some is just not backed by science.

    DeLuca says she no longer knows what to believe when it comes to online information.

    "I don't trust anything anymore. I really don't."

    Exemptions rise, vaccination rates fall 

    Spartanburg County is a solidly conservative part of South Carolina. Dotted with small towns, its sprawling countryside is home to rural communities, conservative faith groups and a sizable Slavic immigrant population. All of these groups tend to have lower vaccination rates across the U.S.

    In the majority of states, parents can apply for nonmedical exemptions to required vaccines for religious, personal or philosophical reasons. In Spartanburg County, the use of religious exemptions has skyrocketed since the pandemic. Today, nearly 10% of students in the county have a religious exemption — up from 3.4% at the start of the 2020-21 school year.

    The result is that vaccination rates among school children are dropping. The majority of schools in Spartanburg County now have vaccination rates below the 95% threshold required to prevent measles outbreaks. In one public charter school — which has seen dozens of students quarantined for measles — the vaccination rate is a shockingly low 21%.

    Republican state Sen. Josh Kimbrell, a lifelong Spartanburg resident, says he understands why parents have grown more skeptical of vaccines in the wake of what he calls the government's "overbearing" response to COVID. But he says the distrust has gotten "out of control."

    The exemptions have become easy to obtain — parents can download a form and they don't have to state their religious reasoning. All they have to do is get it notarized.

    "I know people who haven't set foot in a church in five years who suddenly decide it's a religious liberty exemption and don't have a religious reason," Kimbrell says. "They just don't want to do it. And that's fine but just say that."

    Public health researchers say eliminating nonmedical exemptions to vaccine requirements could help raise falling vaccination rates. But in South Carolina, where opposition to government mandates is firmly entrenched, that's unlikely to happen. Last week, the state legislature shot down a bill that would have kept unvaccinated children out of schools.

    And it's not just South Carolina. A recent study found the rate of nonmedical exemptions to vaccines has risen steadily in the majority of U.S. counties, and this trend has accelerated since the pandemic.

    Parents changing their minds

    Gene Zakharov is one of those Spartanburg parents who got religious exemptions for his children. He owns a cafe, 121 Coffee, in sight of Emmanuel Church where he's an active member of the leadership team.

    Zakharov is part of the large Slavic community drawn to Spartanburg by its conservative politics and sunshine. He says many people from the former Soviet Union who settled here "don't believe in vaccines."

    "People who lived there have a big distrust in the government, to say the least," he says.

    He and his wife didn't vaccinate their two youngest children. They worried about potential side effects from vaccines. But they changed their minds after their 13-year-old daughter was exposed to measles at a friend's house and spent time in quarantine.

    "It doesn't hit you until you actually come in contact with something like this. You're like, well, thank God my kid is all right. But you know, what if she wasn't?"

    Zakharov is not the only parent questioning earlier decisions. As the measles outbreak exploded in January, pediatrician Stuart Simko says his phone started ringing.

    "I've had several patients who've said no to vaccinations in the past who've said, 'Hey, what do you think of the MMR?' " he says. "What do you think about measles? It's in our backyard."

    He explains how dangerous the measles virus can be. And "a lot of people are changing their minds," Simko says.

    Combatting myths and fears

    Tracy Hobbs changed her mind recently.

    Last month Hobbs brought her 5-year-old twins, Joseph and Alice, to a mobile vaccine clinic to get their first dose of the measles, mumps and rubella vaccine. The twins should have gotten their first shots around 12 months of age, but Hobbs decided against it at the time. That's because her oldest child, now 7, was diagnosed with autism shortly after he got his first measles vaccine.

    Hobbs says she saw conflicting information about whether the vaccines were to blame.

    "We were afraid that if we had gotten the kids the vaccines, that it might actually cause autism," Hobbs says. "And that's really messed us up because what are you supposed to believe?"

    Claims linking the vaccine to autism stem from a 1998 study that has been thoroughly debunked by a large body of research, but this misinformation still circulates widely. Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has long promoted the discredited claim and he recently directed the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to change its website to say the link can not be ruled out. Hobbs says all the conflicting information out there is confusing.

    "You have one person saying, hey, this could cause the kid to get autism. And then you have somebody saying, no. I've gotten conflicting information since the day they were born," she says.

    But when her twins were also diagnosed with autism, even though they weren't vaccinated, Hobbs changed her mind. With measles spreading rapidly around her, she decided to get them the shot. "The measles aren't really something to play with," Hobbs says.

    'Not an outlier'

    Spartanburg mom Kate Morrow says it pains her to know this kind of misinformation about vaccines and autism still circulates. One of her twins has autism. Both are fully vaccinated.

    She wants to encourage parents to trust the science and to speak openly with their pediatrician about their fears.

    She feels so strongly about this that she's helping a pro-vaccine advocacy group called South Carolina Families for Vaccines get off the ground. "I'm rooting for the mom in the middle that's feeling lost and scared and doesn't really know what to do," Morrow says.

    There's some evidence that outreach efforts are working. State epidemiologist Linda Bell says vaccination rates in Spartanburg County were up by 133% in February compared to the previous year. And new measles cases have slowed significantly.

    But the danger hasn't disappeared altogether, says Scott Thorpe, executive director of the Southern Alliance for Public Health Leadership.

    "I think what keeps me up at night more than anything else is that Spartanburg is not an outlier," he says. He notes that just across the border in western North Carolina, there are lots of counties with lower vaccination rates. "And we've already started to see some cases there."

    Across the U.S., there have been 12 new measles outbreaks so far this year, and more than 1,280 confirmed cases, according to the CDC.

    "It's just kind of percolating in all these places," Thorpe says. "And eventually it's going to catch on and turn into a big outbreak, just like Spartanburg. And it's just going to keep on happening as vaccination rates get lower."

  • Flies and other pests inundate warehouse area
    Workers in reflective vests hold tools near a mass of debris.
    The cleanup effort at the burned warehouse in Boyle Heights is a huge undertaking. Workers are seen here on June 30.

    Topline:

    Flies, rodents and other pests have been a persistent problem in Boyle Heights and nearby communities as millions of tons of food rot in a nearby burned-out warehouse. It’s gotten bad enough that L.A. Mayor Karen Bass is asking for action from the L.A. County Department of Public Health.

    What Bass said: In a letter to county Public Health Director Barbara Ferrer, Bass said she’s “concerned with County DPH’s pace in addressing this disaster” and the risks it posed to health and quality of life. “Possibly the worst manifestation of these risks is the severe infestation of flies in Boyle Heights and neighboring communities,” she wrote today.

    The pest control measures so far: Bass’ letter says the county took its first steps to hold Lineage accountable for a fly infestation on July 17, ordering Lineage to remove flies and mosquitoes from the warehouse, though her letter noted, “the County’s report only directs Lineage to eliminate flies from Lineage’s own property.” She said the county also needs to help control flies in adjacent communities.

    What the county has said: A spokesperson for the county Department of Public Health told LAist on July 17 that it had itself directed the city and Lineage to develop and implement a vector and insect control plan.

    Read on ... to learn what schools might do when classes begin in August.

    Flies, rodents and other pests have been a persistent problem in Boyle Heights and nearby communities as millions of tons of food rot in a nearby burned-out warehouse. It’s gotten bad enough that L.A. Mayor Karen Bass is asking for action from the L.A. County Department of Public Health.

    In a letter sent Tuesday to county Public Health Director Barbara Ferrer, Bass said she’s “concerned with County DPH’s pace in addressing this disaster” and the risks it posed to health and quality of life.

    “Possibly the worst manifestation of these risks is the severe infestation of flies in Boyle Heights and neighboring communities,” Bass wrote.

    LAist has asked the Department of Public Health for comment and will update this article when they respond.

    The back-and-forth between jurisdictions

    Bass wrote that the city of L.A., which does not have its own health department, is largely dependent on L.A. County for control of potentially disease-carrying vectors. The city has said elsewhere that its Sanitation Department did set about 250 rat traps in surrounding areas.

    Bass’ letter says the county took its first steps to hold Lineage accountable for a fly infestation on July 17, ordering Lineage to remove flies and mosquitoes from the warehouse.

    “Although I appreciate that County DPH has taken this first step, the County’s report only directs Lineage to eliminate flies from Lineage’s own property,” Bass’ letter to Ferrer states.

    Bass urged the county to compel Lineage to address pests at neighboring properties “with aggressive measures to eliminate the flies and any other vectors.”

    As for L.A. County’s Department of Public Health, a spokesperson told LAist on July 17 that it had itself directed the city and Lineage to address the pest situation.

    “Los Angeles County Department of Public Health requested that both Lineage Logistics and the City of Los Angeles develop and implement a vector/insect control plan,” the statement reads.

    Lineage’s part

    According to Councilmember Ysabel Jurado, who represents Boyle Heights on the L.A. City Council and met with Lineage representatives on Monday, an inspector contracted by the company confirmed that the rotting food at the warehouse is serving as a breeding ground for flies. The infestation won’t go away without addressing the root cause, Jurado reported the contractor as saying.

    “Removing waste, adding odor-control equipment, and conducting a pest inspection are important,” Jurado said in a statement. “But residents are asking a more fundamental question: Are conditions actually improving? They deserve evidence, timelines and accountability — not just a list of activities.”

    Lineage has not yet presented its pest control plan to the public.

    A ticking clock

    The first day of instruction for L.A. Unified schools is Aug. 12, three days before the city’s current deadline to clear the warehouse — a deadline Lineage does not appear to be on track to meet.

    That’s led many teachers and parents to raise the alarm about smells and pests that may very well still be around when school starts. An LAUSD spokesperson told Boyle Heights Beat that it is prepared to temporarily relocate nearby schools, as they did with summer programs during the warehouse fire.

    Lineage meets deadline at last minute

    Meanwhile, Lineage also faced a deadline of Tuesday to present a plan to air quality officials on how to address smells. A South Coast Air Quality Management District spokesperson said that the agency received a response from Lineage at 5 p.m. and is evaluating it.

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  • LAHSA hasn’t finished any internal audits in years
    A woman with medium skin tone with short curly light brown hair wearing black-rimmed glasses and a black jacket with the seal of Los Angeles stands behind a podium speaking into a microphone.
    L.A. Mayor Karen Bass speaks at a news conference before LAHSA's annual homeless count in 2025. Next to her are LAHSA's then-CEO Va Lecia Adams Kellum and LAHSA's then-Chair Wendy Greuel (far right).

    Topline:

    L.A.’s homeless services agency has not completed any internal audits in years — and one that was started two years ago is still incomplete because management is taking months to provide responses, officials said Monday.

    Details: The delayed audit has been looking into why the L.A. Homeless Services Authority, known as LAHSA, failed to spend $7 million in federal dollars it was granted to house and serve people in need. The roughly six-page audit report hasn’t been released because it’s missing LAHSA management responses that were requested over two months ago, officials said.

    Why it matters: Internal audits are considered critically important to protecting taxpayer dollars at every level of government. L.A. County auditors, for example, issued about 100 reports in a recent fiscal year.

    Not the first rodeo: The audit is examining a repeat problem. A previous audit in January 2022 found LAHSA had left $3.5 million in federal grants on the table by not using them.

    L.A.’s homeless services agency has not completed any internal audits in years — and one that was started two years ago is still incomplete because management is taking months to provide responses, officials said Monday.

    The delayed audit has been looking into why the L.A. Homeless Services Authority, known as LAHSA, failed to spend $7 million in federal dollars it was granted to house and serve people in need. The roughly six-page audit report hasn’t been released because it’s missing LAHSA management responses that were requested over two months ago, officials said.

    Internal audits are considered critically important to protecting taxpayer dollars at every level of government. L.A. County auditors, for example, issued about 100 reports in a recent fiscal year.

    “ We haven’t gotten anything,” said Erum Shahnawaz, LAHSA’s chief internal auditor, referring to the lack of response from LAHSA management at a meeting of the agency’s audit committee on Monday.

    “That’s the only thing that's holding us from issuing the final report,” Shahnawaz said of the underspending audit.

    That audit is examining a repeat problem. A previous, external audit in January 2022 found LAHSA had left $3.5 million in federal grants on the table by not using them.

    Shahnawaz flagged management’s delays to the LAHSA Commissioner Justin Szlasa, Szlasa said. He chairs the commission’s audit committee, and has repeatedly called out LAHSA executives’ delays in providing information about taxpayer spending over the past year.

    “ I've been trying to intervene and use whatever I can to try to help provide support,” said Szlasa as he described his attempts to get the auditor the answers needed to complete the report.

    Szlasa was appointed to the commission by L.A. County Supervisor Kathryn Barger.

     “It shouldn't take us two months to receive a…management response to an internal audit,” Szlasa said at Monday’s meeting. He said the industry standard for internal audits is eight or nine weeks from start to finish. That compares to the two years — and counting — for LAHSA’s federal underspend audit.

    “We haven't had a single internal audit completed here in the last couple of years, which is nuts,” Szlasa added. He called for internal audits to happen much more frequently.

    Long delays to LAHSA audits also are not new. In November 2024, the county issued a widely-seen audit that included findings that LAHSA was failing to complete internal audits.

    Half of LAHSA’s governing commission is appointed by L.A. Mayor Karen Bass and half appointed by each of the five county supervisors. Bass is also the only elected official on the commission. She served on the audit committee for several months last fall. Records show she was absent for all of the meetings during that time.

    Janine Lim, LAHSA’s deputy chief financial officer, said management’s responses to the audit on underspending haven’t been provided yet because LAHSA leadership did not have clearly defined roles for who is supposed to coordinate responses to internal audits.

    “ We need to work on clarifying that role internally,” Lim said.

     “The last two months have been probably some of the most stress-filled two months that we've had at LAHSA,” said Paul Rubenstein, chief of staff to LAHSA CEO Gita O’Neil, pointing to mass layoffs.

    Szlasa said there’s not that much in the audit for management to respond to.

    “It's like, six pages or less,” he said.

    Szlasa said  another option is to “just say we've asked management for responses and we're awaiting management response. We can publish the results.”

    In response, Shahnawaz said that if management doesn't have an updated timeline for a response, then she’ll go ahead and issue the report without the response.

    Once they floated that idea, Lim committed to providing the responses by next Tuesday.

    LAHSA’s leadership has downsized the internal audit team — dropping from a staff of three to just one in the agency’s proposed budget up for approval Friday.

    Delays in getting access to financial records

    The delayed responses from management are not the only thing that’s been slowing down audits, Szlasa said at the meeting.

    LAHSA policy, approved by its governing commission, says internal auditors are “ authorized to access all organizational records, personnel, and systems necessary for conducting audits,” he said.

    But the auditor has faced challenges in actually getting that access, Szlasa said — including delays in being allowed to view LAHSA’s databases that show contracts and financial payments.

     ”We finally were granted access, but it wasn't, it wasn't easy, it wasn't immediate. It was slow,” Szlasa said.

    Many failed outside audits

    The delays on the internal audit come even after LAHSA failed multiple external audits in recent years, which have found the agency — overseen by city and county elected officials — has neglected to properly track billions of dollars in spending.

    Largely in response to earlier audits, L.A. County supervisors pulled funding from LAHSA and are having the county instead oversee it directly. L.A.’s mayor and City Council have continued to have LAHSA manage the city’s homeless spending while the council delays plans to start studying a possible plan to transition away city tax dollars.

    Signatures under scrutiny

    LAHSA is also in the midst of a different internal audit — expected to finish in late August or early September — examining whether top officials followed requirements when signing contracts and letting others sign. It was launched in the wake of LAist reporting that found LAHSA’s then-CEO Va Lecia Adams Kellum’s signature finalized a $2.1 million contract with her husband’s employer.

    How to reach me

    If you have a tip, you can reach me on Signal. My username is ngerda.47.

    LAist also discovered Adams Kellum’s signature, as LAHSA’s CEO at the time, finalized a quarter-million-dollar contract between LAHSA and a longtime service provider she led up until two months earlier.

    That contract was signed so soon after she left the service provider — St. Joseph Center — that the contract paperwork still listed her as one of St. Joseph Center’s points of contact and authorized signers.

    She is currently under a state ethics investigation into whether her actions were an illegal conflict of interest.

  • Genshiyaki lands at Bengara in the Arts District
    Skewered meats propped upright around a glowing bed of embers and charcoal.
    The uni kiritampo, Bengara's take on a traditional Akita prefecture rice skewer, finished with uni and scallion.

    Topline:

    Chef Tyler Burges came upon genshiyaki, an ultra-rare ambient-heat grilling method, at a single robatayaki spot in the coastal city of Fukuoka in Japan — and spent six months building a custom pit to bring it to his new Arts District restaurant.

    Why it matters: L.A.'s Japanese dining scene defaults to ramen and omakase; Bengara's fire-driven menu, built by a Michelin-starred Saison/Angler alumnus, offers something genuinely uncommon, even in Japan.

    Why now: Bengara just launched an eight-course tasting menu ($98) centered on the technique, giving readers a fresh reason to visit.

    When Bengara opened in Los Angeles' Arts District earlier this year, its owner and head chef had something special lined up in their kitchen arsenal.

    It was genshiyaki, a rare traditional Japanese grilling method that dates back 1,500 years.

    Chef and co-owner Tyler Burges had only encountered it once while traveling in Japan at a robatayaki spot in Fukuoka, a port city on the island of Kyushu.

    Robatayaki, a style of slow, ember-cooked grilling rooted in Japan's rural coastal kitchens, usually centers on an open charcoal hearth. But the restaurant Burges visited had something even more noteworthy: a genshiyaki pit, a gentler, ambient method of cooking that uses radiant heat instead of direct flame.

    Loving the unusually subtle, delicate flavor and texture it produced, he and head chef Phil Mireles decided to bring genshiyaki back to the U.S. and build their Arts District restaurant around it. The genshiyaki pit is a rare enough technique that Burges had to work with fabricator Phil Roxworthy for six months just to get the grill built to spec.

    It's Burges' and Mireles' first L.A. project. The pair are also behind Smoke Door, their acclaimed Lake Tahoe restaurant, and Bengara brings a more casual, day-to-day take on the same fire-driven cooking.

    All roads lead to the Arts District

    Two chefs in black aprons and t-shirts stand in front of a wall with large Japanese calligraphy. The chef on the left has a light skin tone and brown hair; the chef on the right has a medium-dark skin tone and black hair.
    Chef/owner Tyler Burges (left) and head chef Phil Mireles at Bengara.
    (
    Wonho Frank Lee
    /
    Courtesy Bengara
    )

    Burges and Mireles both got their start at San Francisco's Saison and Angler under chef Joshua Skenes — who's now just down the street in L.A. at LYNX with fellow alum Brandyn Tepper.

    Burges traces Bengara's DNA back to two mentors: Ron Siegel, who introduced him to Japanese ingredients and technique in his mid-20s, and Skenes, who taught him to cook with live fire. It was Skenes, Burges said, who showed him that fire didn't have to mean char and bravado.

    "The one thing I loved about wood-fire cooking is you get this subtle, sweet barbecue flavor when you cook correctly over embers, and you don't cook directly over the fire," Burges said. "Most places, when you think about grilling something, you think of char, bold flavors, masculine flavors. But Chef Josh — it's like a master art, getting really delicate, subtle flavor using that grill method."

    Close-up of a grilled rice skewer topped with glistening uni and scallion, resting on black stones.
    The uni kiritampo, Bengara's take on a traditional Akita-prefecture rice skewer, finished with scallion.
    (
    Wono Frank Lee
    /
    Courtesy Bengara
    )

    What sets the food apart

    Take their luscious miso cod. On a normal grill, the marinade's sugars would blacken before the fish cooked through. On the genshiyaki pit, the cod sits at a distance from the embers, cooking gently until the very end, when it's given one last pass directly over the coals — what Burges describes as a final "kiss" of heat before it hits the plate.

    To fuel genshiyaki's slower, ambient style, ordinary charcoal or wood is replaced with binchotan, an ultra-dense, pure-carbon hardwood charcoal traditionally made in Japan, which burns hotter and cleaner.

    The signature dish

    A perfect example of how this cooking style comes together is the uni kiritampo, the Akita prefecture rice skewer, reimagined with uni and cooked via genshiyaki — born of an offhand kitchen conversation with one of the restaurant's Japanese chefs about regional dishes cooked over fire.

    Once they realized genshiyaki was the dish's original, historic cooking method, the rest fell into place.

    "It's like the most delicious thing," Burges said. "I don't know why it never made it over to the United States earlier."

    Dark, moody restaurant interior with wood tables, black leather banquette seating, and a hallway lined with warm sconce lighting.
    Bengara's Arts District dining room pairs industrial bones with warm, low lighting and long communal tables.
    (
    Wonho Frank Lee
    /
    Courtesy Bengara
    )

    The chewy exterior, with just a hint of smoke, gives way to a creamy inside, like a caramelized custard, that’s topped with a decadent amount of uni, providing a semi-sweet finish — one memorable bite.

    Tasting menu option

    Bengara recently added a daily eight-course tasting menu ($98) that doubles as a greatest-hits tour of the kitchen — Toyosu carpaccio with chili coffee oil, pork belly "tacos" wrapped in mochi crepes, miso cod, Mary's half chicken, and handmade citrus soba, with optional wagyu and uni add-ons.

    The price includes a beverage pairing, with a full non-alcoholic option alongside the boozy version. Walk-ins are welcome, and reservations can be booked via OpenTable.

    Location: 806 E. 3rd St., Ste 140, Arts District
    Hours: Sunday, Tuesday–Thursday, 5–9:30 p.m.; Friday–Saturday, 5–10:30 p.m.; weekend lunch 11:30 a.m.–1:30 p.m.; closed Monday

  • General admission on sale ahead of fall opening
    A white building in an infinity shape with black, glass roofing. Off to the left is a street with a few cars driving by. In front the white building is a large grass area.
    The long-awaited Lucas Museum of Narrative Art is set to open at Exposition Park on Sept. 22.

    Topline:

    General admission tickets are now on sale for the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art ahead of its fall opening with thousands trying to secure a spot, according to Tuesday’s virtual queue.

    Why it matters: Museum officials said you will “likely experience high demand and long wait times in the queue" and thanked people for their patience.

    LAist saw estimated wait times up to 6 hours, and it took a little more than 4.5 hours for this reporter to get through. On the bright side, there were still plenty of tickets left, including for the first day. Do not refresh the page or you may lose your spot.

    The details: All tickets are timed entry. Tickets are $25 for adults and $21 for those 65 and older. Children, members, active-duty military, personal aides or attendants and EBT cardholders have free entry. Museum neighbors in the LM37 program will also be free, with that pass opening in August.

    But how do I buy: Each person is limited to nine tickets, and you’ll have 20 minutes to check out once they’re added to your cart, according to the museum. You can find the link here.

    What's next: The grand opening is Tuesday, Sept. 22.

    • Location: One Lucas Plaza, Los Angeles
    • Regular hours: Monday, Wednesday, Thursday from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Friday from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m., Saturday from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., Sunday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. (Closed Tuesdays)

    Go deeper: How to secure Lucas Museum of Narrative Art tickets ahead of the fall opening

    Topline:

    General admission tickets are now on sale for the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art ahead of its fall opening with thousands trying to secure a spot, according to Tuesday’s virtual queue.

    Why it matters: Museum officials said you will “likely experience high demand and long wait times in the queue" and thanked people for their patience.

    LAist saw estimated wait times up to 6 hours, and it took a little more than 4.5 hours for this reporter to get through. On the bright side, there were still plenty of tickets left, including for the first day. Do not refresh the page or you may lose your spot.

    The details: All tickets are timed entry. Tickets are $25 for adults and $21 for those 65 and older. Children, members, active-duty military, personal aides or attendants and EBT cardholders have free entry. Museum neighbors in the LM37 program will also be free, with that pass opening in August.

    But how do I buy: Each person is limited to nine tickets, and you’ll have 20 minutes to check out once they’re added to your cart, according to the museum. You can find the link here.

    What's next: The grand opening is Sept. 22.

    Go deeper: How to secure Lucas Museum of Narrative Art tickets ahead of the fall opening