Classic American West Coast Boxing

[kikibalt]

I don't know how you guys feel,but I'd like to see Mosley fight Manny. Manny comes in like a wild man. Sugar could catch him I think with no problem. Sugar dismantled Margarito. I'm tellin' ya' if Sugar can find Manny's chin it could be real interesting. Sugar's been in there with bigger fighters and has a good beard. Somewhere between 142 and 147?

For that one I might just go up to Frank's house to watch it. Later James can tell me where the party is at with all the young Latinas.

Rog...James likes white meat.....

[dagosd2000]

I don't know how you guys feel,but I'd like to see Mosley fight Manny. Manny comes in like a wild man. Sugar could catch him I think with no problem. Sugar dismantled Margarito. I'm tellin' ya' if Sugar can find Manny's chin it could be real interesting. Sugar's been in there with bigger fighters and has a good beard. Somewhere between 142 and 147?

For that one I might just go up to Frank's house to watch it. Later James can tell me where the party is at with all the young Latinas.

Rog...James likes white meat.....

White meat,dark meat...I'm no vegetarian.

[scartissue]

Rick, can you answer the question below?

Frank,
Since you know much about west coast boxing and boxers maybe you can answer this question for me. I recently watched some video of Jerry Quarry and noticed that he kept his right heel up. Was that a habit that he developed by himself or did he have a trainer early in his career who taught that? Do you know if any trainer ever tried to break Quarry of that habit? Thanks.

Les

Les, I know exactly what you are referring to. However, I have no idea how he learned that, if it was something he developed on his own, or was taught, etc.??? I was close with Jerry when he was being trained by Teddy Bentham, at the height of his pro career, and never heard anybody mention this. However, I will ask this, if something ain't broke, why fix it???

Jerry moved well on his feet, punched with dynamite, could box with balance and speed. Why would anybody want to change this??? If Jerry had a problem, it was not related to his feet.


-Rick Farrisw

It's funny, I never noticed it before but once actually hearing about it, yeah he was prone to doing that. Thinking about now, it was obvious he was using the ball of his foot to pivot.

Scartissue

[Rick Farris]

Rick, can you answer the question below?

Frank,
Since you know much about west coast boxing and boxers maybe you can answer this question for me. I recently watched some video of Jerry Quarry and noticed that he kept his right heel up. Was that a habit that he developed by himself or did he have a trainer early in his career who taught that? Do you know if any trainer ever tried to break Quarry of that habit? Thanks.

Les

Les, I know exactly what you are referring to. However, I have no idea how he learned that, if it was something he developed on his own, or was taught, etc.??? I was close with Jerry when he was being trained by Teddy Bentham, at the height of his pro career, and never heard anybody mention this. However, I will ask this, if something ain't broke, why fix it???

Jerry moved well on his feet, punched with dynamite, could box with balance and speed. Why would anybody want to change this??? If Jerry had a problem, it was not related to his feet.


-Rick Farrisw

It's funny, I never noticed it before but once actually hearing about it, yeah he was prone to doing that. Thinking about now, it was obvious he was using the ball of his foot to pivot.

Scartissue

Dan . . .

When I was a kid, I used to copy moves that Jerry would make. Of course, Jerry was a heavyweight, but he used to have this shift he would do sometimes before he threw a hook to the head. He' slip his head right, usually outside a jab, then shift to the left (inside) and then come back with short hook that was bad news for those he landed on. If he landed and came back with his best shot, a chopping right to the chin . . . Good Night Cinderella!!!!

-Rick Farris

[kikibalt]

Gustavo Arellano of 'Ask a Mexican!' on Cinco de Mayo


Robert Lachman / Los Angeles Times
Gustavo Arellano mixes humor and social commentary in his "¡Ask a Mexican!" column.

By Elina Shatkin, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
May 1, 2008

Puerile provocation or Swiftian satire? Let critics debate the merits of "¡Ask a Mexican!," Gustavo Arellano's witty, profane and occasionally edifying OC Weekly column. We're more interested in the Guatemalan-baiting, tamale-loving Mexican's thoughts on Cinco de Mayo.

Is Cinco de Mayo a real holiday or is it just a beer company holiday?

Cinco de Mayo is an actual holiday that commemorates Mexico's victory over France in the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. What's never noted is that a year later, the French came back, slaughtered the Mexicans, then occupied Mexico for four years until the Mexicans finally kicked them out. If this is what passes for a Mexican holiday, no wonder the only way to celebrate it is by drinking ourselves into oblivion.

Cinco de Mayo vs. St. Patrick's Day: Who would win?

I'd have to say St. Patrick's Day. Leprechauns get much more drunk and much more aggressive than Mexicans.

How about Cinco de Mayo vs. Oktoberfest?

Cinco de Mayo. Mexicans, when we get drunk, we get happy. Germans, when they get drunk, they get foolish. More important, Mexicans are even more German than Germans. All of our music -- oompah and polka and all that -- is based on German music. You put a Mexican in Oktoberfest, he starts dancing. You put a German in Cinco de Mayo, he scratches his head.

I never knew the accordion was such a cultural unifier.

Banda music -- the big brass bands you'll hear rattling from a Lincoln Navigator if you drive around South-Central -- that's just a German oompah band. And in the conjunto norteños where you hear the accordions, those are just Czech and Polish polkas. Nowadays, the only people in America who think the accordion is cool are people in Cleveland -- and Mexicans.

Some tend to lump all the Central and South American ethnicities together. But what do Guatemalans, Hondurans, Salvadorans and so forth do on Cinco de Mayo?

It's an occasion to party. That's the one thing that unifies Latinos. Not even the Spanish language unifies us. It's the party. On Cinco de Mayo, everyone's an honorary Mexican. It gives you a pass to get as drunk as possible, and I think that's something all races can agree on.

For an Angeleno who somehow knows nothing about Cinco de Mayo, how do you recommend they celebrate?

Eat Mexican food at real Mexican restaurants. Do not go to El Torito. Do not go to El Cholo. Celebrate true Mexican independence from tyranny by going to a taco truck, especially now when the Board of Supervisors basically wants to regulate them out of existence.

In a recent column you touched on "symbolic ethnicity." Can you elaborate?

There's this idea that somehow Mexicans will always remain Mexicans, that all we do is speak Spanish, not tip properly and swim in the ocean with our clothes on. But one of the main ways that immigrants first make their mark on the country (and by default, assimilate) is by celebrating holidays. At one point, St. Patrick's Day was only celebrated by the Irish. Now it's almost a national holiday. Cinco de Mayo is still viewed as this quaint, Mexican-only holiday, but more and more people celebrate it. This means that Americans are more and more comfortable with Mexicans being in this country and the idea of them ultimately being no different from other Americans.

[Rick Farris]

Rick, can you answer the question below?

Frank,
Since you know much about west coast boxing and boxers maybe you can answer this question for me. I recently watched some video of Jerry Quarry and noticed that he kept his right heel up. Was that a habit that he developed by himself or did he have a trainer early in his career who taught that? Do you know if any trainer ever tried to break Quarry of that habit? Thanks.

Les

Les, I know exactly what you are referring to. However, I have no idea how he learned that, if it was something he developed on his own, or was taught, etc.??? I was close with Jerry when he was being trained by Teddy Bentham, at the height of his pro career, and never heard anybody mention this. However, I will ask this, if something ain't broke, why fix it???

Jerry moved well on his feet, punched with dynamite, could box with balance and speed. Why would anybody want to change this??? If Jerry had a problem, it was not related to his feet.


-Rick Farrisw

More on Jerry's training . . .

Boxer's pick up things along the way, however, Jerry's initial teachers were his father & Johnnie Flores.
Johnnie was good at teaching a boxer the most important things, the basics.
Johnnie was not a strategist, but provided his boxers the necessities to compete effectivly.
Most of Johnnie's fighter's were the product of his backyard gym coaches, guys who fought both amateur and/or professional.

When Jerry began to rise in the heavyweight ranks, Johnnie sought the help of a legendary trainer form New York, Teddy Bentham. Teddy had trained former lightweight champ, Carlos Ortiz and the late featherweight champ, Davey Moore.
Teddy and Jerry had a good chemistry and this would remain true until Teddy's death, around the time Quarry and Flores parted company.
Teddy also worked my corner in one of my pro fights.
Although Bentham was never my trainer, I got to know him very well as he'd occasionally ride to the gym with myself and Johnnie's amateur heavyweight, Kit Boursse' (A Quarry sparring partner.)

When you reached the pro ranks, most in Johnnie's stable including myself, except Jerry, were trained by his brother Julio Flores.
Julio was more a strategist, conditioning coach, the one who took care of our stable in the gym.

During my first year as a pro, Flores and Quarry split company. His veteran featherweight, Dwight "The Hawk" Hawkins retired.
These were my stablemates: Ruben Navarro, Mac Foster, Richie Sue, Centavito Hernandez, Ronnie Cisneros &Thurman Durden.
Julio Flores worked with us all, but Dwight Hawkins joined the stable as a trainer, working only with Mac Foster and myself.

I would eventually be managed by Suey Welch.
Cannonball Green came in as my first trainer, but was replaced by Mel Epstein.
Mel was an old school teacher/strategist, who taught me a great deal .
My first bout under Suey Welch, Eddie Futch stepped in as my "second" for one fight, as well as San Diego's Danny Rodriguez, who was a Sid Flarety (spelling) stable trainer.
While I was with Welch and Epstein, I got to know promoter George Parnassus, and would work as a sparring partner for many of the top bantams of the era, champs and contenders who'd be featured on Parnassus' big promotions at the Forum.
I'd work in the gym with Ruben Olivares, ChuCho Castillo, Rodolfo Martinez, Romeo Anaya, Rogelio Lara, Jesus Pimentel, etc.
These experiences did not make a me a top contender, but I learned a lot, and today value having such experience to reflect upon, which mptivates me to perpetuate the memory of these great boxers, trainers, managers, promoters.

All of these experiences, the people in L.A. boxing, not just the big names, but many who were background players, will come together in a publication.
Something that could only be written by a fighter, one with my unique memories.
I was put in a place for a reason, not to win a world title, but perhaps, to add perspective to a legend, or legends.
I was close enough to touch them, and to be touched. I saw them from the inside out.
A few of you who post here are among the legends, and you shall not be forgotten.


-Rick Farris

[Randyman]

Rick, can you answer the question below?

Frank,
Since you know much about west coast boxing and boxers maybe you can answer this question for me. I recently watched some video of Jerry Quarry and noticed that he kept his right heel up. Was that a habit that he developed by himself or did he have a trainer early in his career who taught that? Do you know if any trainer ever tried to break Quarry of that habit? Thanks.

Les

Les, I know exactly what you are referring to. However, I have no idea how he learned that, if it was something he developed on his own, or was taught, etc.??? I was close with Jerry when he was being trained by Teddy Bentham, at the height of his pro career, and never heard anybody mention this. However, I will ask this, if something ain't broke, why fix it???

Jerry moved well on his feet, punched with dynamite, could box with balance and speed. Why would anybody want to change this??? If Jerry had a problem, it was not related to his feet.


-Rick Farrisw

More on Jerry's training . . .

Boxer's pick up things along the way, however, Jerry's initial teachers were his father & Johnnie Flores.
Johnnie was good at teaching a boxer the most important things, the basics.
Johnnie was not a strategist, but provided his boxers the necessities to compete effectivly.
Most of Johnnie's fighter's were the product of his backyard gym coaches, guys who fought both amateur and/or professional.

When Jerry began to rise in the heavyweight ranks, Johnnie sought the help of a legendary trainer form New York, Teddy Bentham. Teddy had trained former lightweight champ, Carlos Ortiz and the late featherweight champ, Davey Moore.
Teddy and Jerry had a good chemistry and this would remain true until Teddy's death, around the time Quarry and Flores parted company.
Teddy also worked my corner in one of my pro fights.
Although Bentham was never my trainer, I got to know him very well as he'd occasionally ride to the gym with myself and Johnnie's amateur heavyweight, Kit Boursse' (A Quarry sparring partner.)

When you reached the pro ranks, most in Johnnie's stable including myself, except Jerry, were trained by his brother Julio Flores.
Julio was more a strategist, conditioning coach, the one who took care of our stable in the gym.

During my first year as a pro, Flores and Quarry split company. His veteran featherweight, Dwight "The Hawk" Hawkins retired.
These were my stablemates: Ruben Navarro, Mac Foster, Richie Sue, Centavito Hernandez, Ronnie Cisneros &Thurman Durden.
Julio Flores worked with us all, but Dwight Hawkins joined the stable as a trainer, working only with Mac Foster and myself.

I would eventually be managed by Suey Welch.
Cannonball Green came in as my first trainer, but was replaced by Mel Epstein.
Mel was an old school teacher/strategist, who taught me a great deal .
My first bout under Suey Welch, Eddie Futch stepped in as my "second" for one fight, as well as San Diego's Danny Rodriguez, who was a Sid Flarety (spelling) stable trainer.
While I was with Welch and Epstein, I got to know promoter George Parnassus, and would work as a sparring partner for many of the top bantams of the era, champs and contenders who'd be featured on Parnassus' big promotions at the Forum.
I'd work in the gym with Ruben Olivares, ChuCho Castillo, Rodolfo Martinez, Romeo Anaya, Rogelio Lara, Jesus Pimentel, etc.
These experiences did not make a me a top contender, but I learned a lot, and today value having such experience to reflect upon, which mptivates me to perpetuate the memory of these great boxers, trainers, managers, promoters.

All of these experiences, the people in L.A. boxing, not just the big names, but many who were background players, will come together in a publication.
Something that could only be written by a fighter, one with my unique memories.
I was put in a place for a reason, not to win a world title, but perhaps, to add perspective to a legend, or legends.
I was close enough to touch them, and to be touched. I saw them from the inside out.
A few of you who post here are among the legends, and you shall not be forgotten.


-Rick Farris

Rick, what a great post. Although your experience in the ring and with many of the old school fighters surpasses my own, my feelings are similar to yours. That post could only have been written by someone who has been there, in the midst of things, both in the ring and out!

Great job.
Randy

[Randyman]

Rick, can you answer the question below?

Frank,
Since you know much about west coast boxing and boxers maybe you can answer this question for me. I recently watched some video of Jerry Quarry and noticed that he kept his right heel up. Was that a habit that he developed by himself or did he have a trainer early in his career who taught that? Do you know if any trainer ever tried to break Quarry of that habit? Thanks.

Les

Les, I know exactly what you are referring to. However, I have no idea how he learned that, if it was something he developed on his own, or was taught, etc.??? I was close with Jerry when he was being trained by Teddy Bentham, at the height of his pro career, and never heard anybody mention this. However, I will ask this, if something ain't broke, why fix it???

Jerry moved well on his feet, punched with dynamite, could box with balance and speed. Why would anybody want to change this??? If Jerry had a problem, it was not related to his feet.


-Rick Farrisw

It's funny, I never noticed it before but once actually hearing about it, yeah he was prone to doing that. Thinking about now, it was obvious he was using the ball of his foot to pivot.

Scartissue

Dan, Mel Epstein always had me on the balls of my feet. It increased my mobility and I was always ready with the right hand at a moments notice. Having the right heel up seems perfectly normal to me.

Randy

[Randyman]

Gustavo Arellano of 'Ask a Mexican!' on Cinco de Mayo


Robert Lachman / Los Angeles Times
Gustavo Arellano mixes humor and social commentary in his "¡Ask a Mexican!" column.

By Elina Shatkin, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
May 1, 2008

Puerile provocation or Swiftian satire? Let critics debate the merits of "¡Ask a Mexican!," Gustavo Arellano's witty, profane and occasionally edifying OC Weekly column. We're more interested in the Guatemalan-baiting, tamale-loving Mexican's thoughts on Cinco de Mayo.

Is Cinco de Mayo a real holiday or is it just a beer company holiday?

Cinco de Mayo is an actual holiday that commemorates Mexico's victory over France in the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. What's never noted is that a year later, the French came back, slaughtered the Mexicans, then occupied Mexico for four years until the Mexicans finally kicked them out. If this is what passes for a Mexican holiday, no wonder the only way to celebrate it is by drinking ourselves into oblivion.

Cinco de Mayo vs. St. Patrick's Day: Who would win?

I'd have to say St. Patrick's Day. Leprechauns get much more drunk and much more aggressive than Mexicans.

How about Cinco de Mayo vs. Oktoberfest?

Cinco de Mayo. Mexicans, when we get drunk, we get happy. Germans, when they get drunk, they get foolish. More important, Mexicans are even more German than Germans. All of our music -- oompah and polka and all that -- is based on German music. You put a Mexican in Oktoberfest, he starts dancing. You put a German in Cinco de Mayo, he scratches his head.

I never knew the accordion was such a cultural unifier.

Banda music -- the big brass bands you'll hear rattling from a Lincoln Navigator if you drive around South-Central -- that's just a German oompah band. And in the conjunto norteños where you hear the accordions, those are just Czech and Polish polkas. Nowadays, the only people in America who think the accordion is cool are people in Cleveland -- and Mexicans.

Some tend to lump all the Central and South American ethnicities together. But what do Guatemalans, Hondurans, Salvadorans and so forth do on Cinco de Mayo?

It's an occasion to party. That's the one thing that unifies Latinos. Not even the Spanish language unifies us. It's the party. On Cinco de Mayo, everyone's an honorary Mexican. It gives you a pass to get as drunk as possible, and I think that's something all races can agree on.

For an Angeleno who somehow knows nothing about Cinco de Mayo, how do you recommend they celebrate?

Eat Mexican food at real Mexican restaurants. Do not go to El Torito. Do not go to El Cholo. Celebrate true Mexican independence from tyranny by going to a taco truck, especially now when the Board of Supervisors basically wants to regulate them out of existence.

In a recent column you touched on "symbolic ethnicity." Can you elaborate?

There's this idea that somehow Mexicans will always remain Mexicans, that all we do is speak Spanish, not tip properly and swim in the ocean with our clothes on. But one of the main ways that immigrants first make their mark on the country (and by default, assimilate) is by celebrating holidays. At one point, St. Patrick's Day was only celebrated by the Irish. Now it's almost a national holiday. Cinco de Mayo is still viewed as this quaint, Mexican-only holiday, but more and more people celebrate it. This means that Americans are more and more comfortable with Mexicans being in this country and the idea of them ultimately being no different from other Americans.

It might seem odd but this is a holiday that I knew nothing about growing up. It wasn't something that my family celebrated or was even aware of. This is probably due to the fact that my family was here in the U.S. long before May 5, 1862. Even with that most Chicanos growing up during the 1960's had a half ass knowledge of Cinco de mayo. Most thought it was Mexican Independence day. Most of the knowledge we had came from city events, usually a small parade and carnival. It somehow evolved into a large scale drinking and partying holiday.

That changed during the mid 1970's when a new wave of Mexican immigrants, both legal and illegal began the trek northward. Along with a generation that actually did not assimilate quite as easily or willingly as the generations that preceded them. It was a conscious choice. Many of the newer generations have remained loyal to Mexico, despite the fact that they were born in the U.S. Not all, but enough to cause a shift in the Chicano culture, which eventually became a minority within a minority.

Along with the cultural change came a new wave of Mexican food. Things like Ceviche, and Marisco's (Mexican Seafood) were not part of mainstream Mexican American food. The hard shell taco (sometimes called a Gringo Taco) is actually a Tex-Mex invention, along with fajitas. Now when someone says "taco" you usually think of a soft shell corn tortilla with carne asada or carnitas or some other delicious meat. For guys like me, the hard shell taco is big part of my family memories. My wife Jeri, still prefers and cooks tacos this way.

I learned to love and enjoy all Mexican food. My daughter Meranda once asked me "Dad, did you learn to cook Mexican food from grandma'? The answer was 'No". I taught my self everything when it comes to authentic Mexican food. My mother is old school Mexican American, and while her food might or might not be considered authentic Mexican. it is 100% authentic Chicano cooking.

It used to bug me when someone would come up to me and greet me with "Happy Cinco de Mayo". Especially if I didn't know the person. I usually just said "Thank You" but I could have cared less. Over the years I have come to embrace and respect Mexican culture including "Cinco de Mayo".

Now, having said all that there are times when, if I am drunk enough, and perhaps listening to Jose Alfredo Jimenez, Juan Mendoza or Vincente Fernandez, and surrounded by family and friends, and feeling good, I'll let out a grito (A yell or a howl), and suddenly I am as Mexican as Pancho Villa. Go figure!

Randy "Ask a Chicano!" De La O

[dagosd2000]

THE WALK OVER

"Watch it Adam",I said to my grandson.
I was lucky to find a parking spot in front of a liquor store two blocks from the ball park. Saved me 20 dollars not to park in the lot.
"Just walk over him. He's sleeping," I said to Adam.
I could see Adam staring at the still figure on the sidewalk.
"Go ahead Adam."
Adam proceeded to walk over the guy on the sidewalk.
"What happened abuelito?"
"Probably had too much to drink. There's a lot of policemen around here because of the game. They'll haul him away."

The new ball park was built by the water. The neighborhood had seen better days. It was part of the redevelopment project. In the downtown sector they called it the Gas Lamp District. Funny. That area was older before they started to renovate. All the posh joints now didn't have a history of more than ten years. The problem is the homeless were still around. Especially around the new ball park. It seems to be the trend. Build the new park in the downtown area. Try to rejuvenate. It's a thin mask.

Me and the grandson stayed for about seven innings. My sisters had comped me the tickets. 40 a piece it would have cost. The parking would have dinged me for another 20. Adam got some nachos and a coke. 11 bucks. Coffee for me was another 3.

Yeah,the stadium is beautifull. Fancy scoreboard,special boxes for the big wigs. Waterfalls and fireworks. I've been away from the game. I only recognized a few names on the roster. We stayed for seven innings. The Padres came back to pull ahead by a run. We started our exit.

As we walked back to the car,I could see the lights of the liquor store still on.
"Abuelito. Do you think that man is still sleeping on the side walk?"
"No Adam. If he's sleeping,it's not on the side walk."
I wanted to put Adam at ease.
As we approaced the car,I could see Adam straining his eyes. The man wasn't there.

"Abuelito,what will happen to that man?"
"Nothing much Adam. He'll probably be back here tomorrow night."
As I drove back on the freeway,we listened to the game on the radio. The Diamond Backs had hit a grand slam to take the lead.
"Did you have fun tonight Adam."
"Yes"
"Do you want to go again?"
"Yes,but next time we should park the car in the parking lot."

[Rick Farris]

Gustavo Arellano of 'Ask a Mexican!' on Cinco de Mayo


Robert Lachman / Los Angeles Times
Gustavo Arellano mixes humor and social commentary in his "¡Ask a Mexican!" column.

By Elina Shatkin, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
May 1, 2008

Puerile provocation or Swiftian satire? Let critics debate the merits of "¡Ask a Mexican!," Gustavo Arellano's witty, profane and occasionally edifying OC Weekly column. We're more interested in the Guatemalan-baiting, tamale-loving Mexican's thoughts on Cinco de Mayo.

Is Cinco de Mayo a real holiday or is it just a beer company holiday?

Cinco de Mayo is an actual holiday that commemorates Mexico's victory over France in the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. What's never noted is that a year later, the French came back, slaughtered the Mexicans, then occupied Mexico for four years until the Mexicans finally kicked them out. If this is what passes for a Mexican holiday, no wonder the only way to celebrate it is by drinking ourselves into oblivion.

Cinco de Mayo vs. St. Patrick's Day: Who would win?

I'd have to say St. Patrick's Day. Leprechauns get much more drunk and much more aggressive than Mexicans.

How about Cinco de Mayo vs. Oktoberfest?

Cinco de Mayo. Mexicans, when we get drunk, we get happy. Germans, when they get drunk, they get foolish. More important, Mexicans are even more German than Germans. All of our music -- oompah and polka and all that -- is based on German music. You put a Mexican in Oktoberfest, he starts dancing. You put a German in Cinco de Mayo, he scratches his head.

I never knew the accordion was such a cultural unifier.

Banda music -- the big brass bands you'll hear rattling from a Lincoln Navigator if you drive around South-Central -- that's just a German oompah band. And in the conjunto norteños where you hear the accordions, those are just Czech and Polish polkas. Nowadays, the only people in America who think the accordion is cool are people in Cleveland -- and Mexicans.

Some tend to lump all the Central and South American ethnicities together. But what do Guatemalans, Hondurans, Salvadorans and so forth do on Cinco de Mayo?

It's an occasion to party. That's the one thing that unifies Latinos. Not even the Spanish language unifies us. It's the party. On Cinco de Mayo, everyone's an honorary Mexican. It gives you a pass to get as drunk as possible, and I think that's something all races can agree on.

For an Angeleno who somehow knows nothing about Cinco de Mayo, how do you recommend they celebrate?

Eat Mexican food at real Mexican restaurants. Do not go to El Torito. Do not go to El Cholo. Celebrate true Mexican independence from tyranny by going to a taco truck, especially now when the Board of Supervisors basically wants to regulate them out of existence.

In a recent column you touched on "symbolic ethnicity." Can you elaborate?

There's this idea that somehow Mexicans will always remain Mexicans, that all we do is speak Spanish, not tip properly and swim in the ocean with our clothes on. But one of the main ways that immigrants first make their mark on the country (and by default, assimilate) is by celebrating holidays. At one point, St. Patrick's Day was only celebrated by the Irish. Now it's almost a national holiday. Cinco de Mayo is still viewed as this quaint, Mexican-only holiday, but more and more people celebrate it. This means that Americans are more and more comfortable with Mexicans being in this country and the idea of them ultimately being no different from other Americans.

El Cholo, Ruben Navarro & my 21st birthday party . . .

I'm a gringo, so what I have to say about Mexican food carries no weight here.
I agree with what the guy says about El Torito. Crappy food and bad margaritas
However, "El Cholo" is my all-time favorite restaurant. It's located on Western Ave. just south of Olympic Blvd.
I will choose this eating establishment over any other place in the world, I don't care what type food, etc.

The place has been there since 1918. They say the food is "Sonora Style", and this Gabacho doesn't care if Mexican's like it or not.
Their Margarita's are beyond compare and I've had them everywhere.
This is the first place I ever got drunk. I was 18, shortly before my pro debut.
My future sister-in-law, Kam Nelson was 19 at the time, and had just married Olympic pole vault gold medalist Bob Seagren.
They will never let me forget that day. Neither will I forget my surprise 21st birthday party that was held there three years later.

On the day of my birthday, my soon-to-be wife Karla, Ruben Navarro & wife Carol, Bob & Kam Seagren, Rams wide receiever, Lance Rentzel & his actress wife Joey Heatherton, Olympic shot put record holder Brian Oldfield, welterweight Gil King, lightweight Ron Cisneros, heavyweight Kit Boursse', other friends and my family was there.

Ruben and I go to the bar to order a couple pitchers of Margaritas. The bartender is Mexican, he seemed to have a chip on his shoulder.
When we place our order he asks for our ID's. I show him mine but Ruben's driver's license had been suspended, Carol had driven so he didn't have ID.
The bartender looks at me and says, "You can drink". He then looks at Ruben and says, "You can't."
Ruben protests, "I'm 26! Do you know who I am?"
The bartender answers, "Yeah, you're the guy I'm going to toss out of here if you don't quiet down!"

Ruben's dark Chicano eyes are blazing. He tells the bartender . . .
"Well then, get all the cholos from the kitchen and tell them to bring their lunches, it's going to be an all day affair!"

Suddenly, big Brian Oldfield, all 6'8" & 280lbs of him, Lance Rentzel, heavyweight Kit Boursse', Gil King, Ronnie Cisneros, Seagren and our father-in law Karl Nelson (the most dangerous of all) are standing behind Ruben.

The manager quickly shows up and relieves the bartender of his duty that afternoon.
He apologized to Ruben and asks him for an autograph.
The "Maravilla Kid" drank on the house the rest of the day.

I'm not Mexican, and in the eyes of Ruben Navarro, neither was the bartender.
However, I love that food. When I have guests from out of the country or just out of town, I take them to El Cholo.

Call me a Gabacho, Gringo, Honky, Cracker, whatever. Just don't forget to call me if you want some company at El Cholo.
It's MY kinda place!


-Ricardo Farris, "El Gringo Bandito"

[kikibalt]

Low ceilings and exposed wood beams crown this venerable family-owned restaurant, with vintage photos of L.A. and memorabilia lining the colorful walls. High-back booths fill the dining rooms, and comfy sofas are strewn throughout the spacious bar. Gas-lit fireplaces add cozy ambiance while servers in traditional Mexican garb treat devoted customers like family. This Mexican fare has changed little since 1927. To start, a bowl brimming of freshly made guacamole is best with the obligatory warm chips. On the lighter side, the tostadita features a mound of shredded lettuce, black beans, fresh peas, avocado and tender, grilled chicken pouring out of a crispy flour shell. Otherwise, food is hearty and heavy: Bacon adds smoky flavor to grilled sirloin tacos, and chicken-filled blue corn enchiladas are doused in thick tomatillo sauce. The Taste of History combo tours house favorites like cheese enchiladas with slightly spicy red sauce and the ultra-puffy chili relleno.

[kikibalt]

El Tepeyac Cafe: Pull Up a Seat at Manuel's Place



There is no question that El Tepeyac Cafe, a fifty-plus-year-old Mexican establishment in Boyle Heights, is legendary. Stories swirl amongst foodies, local and otherwise, about the monumentally oversized burritos and equally over-the-top owner, Manuel. My parents tell tales about the "poor old days" when they would hungrily dig into one of the "Manuel's Special" burritos, whose four pounds of meat, rice, and beans was enough to feed two skinny kids for days on end. No visit to the East Side would be complete without a stop at El Tepeyac, where the ever-present line outside the door isn't enough to deter locals who have depended on this place for their burrito fix since time immemorial. Even Hillary Clinton herself visited back in 1998 during her "Save America's Treasures" campaign -- although she hardly did justice to the Special.



So does El Tepeyac live up to the hype? Is it the best burrito in the city? Probably not. The portion sizes can't be denied: it's a good deal for the money (a Hollenbeck or Okie Burrito for about $7.50, Manuel's Special is about $11). But the meat (machaca, pork, or carne asada) is hit and miss, the rice & bean filling nothing special, and although the red chile sauce that coats the wet burritos packs a punch, it took several additional spoonfuls of salsa to get my Okie up to proper spiciness standards.

With all of this under consideration, however, is El Tepeyac still worth a visit? Absolutely. Let me tell you why.



Perched on a sunny hill-top street in Boyle Heights, right across from a bustling Catholic church (an especially cheery locale on Sundays), the restaurant has a homey atmosphere and a casual vibe that really hits the spot if you're in the mood for a lazy Sunday lunch. Service is prompt and efficient, but nothing compares to a visit from Manuel himself, who has owned and operated El Tepeyac for over fifty years. He's the reason that generations of Angelenos return to this place, gathering their children and grandchildren around a modest table to genuflect at an altar of Californian authenticity.

Manuel is a wizened little man in a dishwasher's apron, with a raspy, time-worn voice that carries strongly throughout the small dining room. He cuddles babies and kisses women on the hand; he also carries around three varieties of tequila in plastic apple juice bottles, which he disperses with a free hand to all patrons -- even at 11 in the morning. At one point during our meal, he perched himself high above the diner counter and cried out: "Merry Christmas everybody!" And you know what? Everyone in the place responded "Merry Christmas!" right back at him. Probably because they were all a little drunk. Nothing wrong with that.

Your best bet at El Tepeyac is definitely to order one of the famous burritos -- there's the Hollenbeck, stewed pork with rice, beans, and guacamole resting under a shroud of soft tortilla and coated with ranchero sauce. This is not a pick-it-up-and-eat-it kind of endeavor: this is a serious fork-and-knife kind of thing. The pork is dry, to be sure, but flavorful and tender to the tooth, a sign that it's been stewed long and low. You can also get it with machaca, and some versions come stuffed with egg. The Okie burrito is similarly constructed, but doused instead with a vibrant red chile sauce.

Or if you're the type who goes big or doesn't got at all: there's Manuel's Special. Four pounds of meat, cheese, guac, rice, beans, eggs, and whatever else you want thrown in there. So large it's almost laughable, but probably still good the next day.

You can get any of these burritos with chicken or even in vegetarian form, but the rest of the menu is also extensive and worthwhile. Chile rellano burritos, tacos of all kinds, menudo, enchiladas, the gooiest, brightest green guacamole you have ever laid eyes on, flautas, and dinner plates with seafood, chicken, pork, or beef. Don't forget the jamaica and the horchata to balance out the spice of the excellent house salsa.

It's sometimes hard to understand Manuel's wheezy story-telling, but even the snatches you do catch: "West Point -- President Roosevelt -- arthritis -- fifty-six years!" are filled with history and love. I would venture to say that you're not a real Angeleno until you've pulled up a seat to one of those formica-covered tables and shared a tequila shot with Manuel. He is the proud parent of those fat baby-sized burritos, and even if they're not the best you've ever tasted, this place won't fail to put a smile on your face.

El Tepeyac Cafe
812 North Evergreen Ave
Boyle Heights
(213) 268-1960

[Rick Farris]

Low ceilings and exposed wood beams crown this venerable family-owned restaurant, with vintage photos of L.A. and memorabilia lining the colorful walls. High-back booths fill the dining rooms, and comfy sofas are strewn throughout the spacious bar. Gas-lit fireplaces add cozy ambiance while servers in traditional Mexican garb treat devoted customers like family. This Mexican fare has changed little since 1927. To start, a bowl brimming of freshly made guacamole is best with the obligatory warm chips. On the lighter side, the tostadita features a mound of shredded lettuce, black beans, fresh peas, avocado and tender, grilled chicken pouring out of a crispy flour shell. Otherwise, food is hearty and heavy: Bacon adds smoky flavor to grilled sirloin tacos, and chicken-filled blue corn enchiladas are doused in thick tomatillo sauce. The Taste of History combo tours house favorites like cheese enchiladas with slightly spicy red sauce and the ultra-puffy chili relleno.

Gracias, Frank!

[kikibalt]

Ciro's Restaurant
N. Evergreen Ave. Los Angeles, Ca.
(E.L.A)

Home made Mexican food

[kikibalt]

La Parilla ~ Boyle Heights
One of the best of the best for home made Mexican food


2126 Cesar Chavez Ave. ~ Boyle Heights, CA 90033 ~ 323-262-3434

We hold on tightly to our crystal meth, super glue, tequila, and crizz-onic addictions, while some people cannot control their consumption of Mariachi music. La Parilla is a true classic reaching back 27 years in East LA, as well as a damn good place to satisfy your accordion fix. Mariachis roll a million deep in this ‘hood and always pack reps at this family restaurant. The happy woman seated next to our table kept the songs coming for her kid’s birthday, abuela at the boy’s side, merrily clapping along for nearly two hours.


Our friend foreshadowed an unpredictable conclusion with the consultation, “You better be prepared to pay about $10-20 a song. White people are always trying to give them like $2 a song…”

A festive, three-roomed arcade between hand-painted walls dripping in tri-colored streamers intermingled with Christmas lights, plus tables full of hot-to-go couples and families out to blow cash on a good time, La Parilla is a neighborhood instituiton and definitely on the higher end of Cesar Chavez’ restaurants. The sweet older waitresses rock folklorico dresses but nothing comes off as a gimmick. Some people say the decorations are a little naco, but it really feels homey and celebratory. Not necessarily the cheapest eats though, especially when you throw the liquor in, but we survived.


But supersonics and effects aside, La Parilla is really about the star grilled meat and veggie entrees, created under the guard of owner Sergio Sanchez. The quality cuts come stewed or battered with spices before being charcoal-cooked. All of the meals are steaming upon arrival, with that fajita-plate effect you get at less authentic chains. The slightly blackened flavors accentuate the natural tastes of cactus, onion, and peppers, while the dishes themselves span the gamut from traditional burritos and chile rellenos to slabs of steak and the more unique experiences of Huarachito Tizoc and delicacy-filled Molcajete, dishes that reach back to the land and venerate Aztec origins.


As the room rocked and rollicked to a plucking, strumming trio, we were warmly seated, greeted, and supplied with luscious guacamole, while awaiting our house specialties. We were doled out hand-painted adobe cups of fruit-stained, mighty sangria. A plain free cup of canned veggie and shell pasta soup came next….an amuse bouche? That kind of sucked, but it accentuated the home effect no doubt!
La Parilla rocks all kinds of meat treats like spareribs and chorizo that embody simple execution, but carry plenty of juicy, meatty flavor. It also busts a giant brickoven where handmade tortillas are cooked. While TACO senior reporter Rio Krivsto ordered a slab of carne asada flank that tasted delicious–its surface moist and just resistant enough, its interior tender, tasting of pure steak, the whole thing smoky and sumptuous–our visiting D.R./Jamdung correspondant and our Foreign Affairs editor shared the famous Molcajete Azteca ($30), a rough-hewn stone bowl stacked with a small feast of barbecued chicken, shrimp, steak, cactus, scallions, and a huge sqaure of semi-melted panela cheese, the whole thing bubbling underneath the Jenga-esque structure with a lava-red broth. By rule at TACO, the second a server stresses the heat of the plate, we all scramble to cradle it in our arms. This one is truly hot.


With so much great stuff on the menu, the molcajete is one of the more original, but at the price is probably not worth it unless you have a sweetie to share it with, as most dishes cost about $15 on average anyway. It is fun to look at and tastes completely, utterly delicious, each well-grilled flavor co-mingling in a smoky, sheer red chili-based sauce. It can be a little bit hard to eat, bite for bite, as everything must be plucked from the bowl. Most plates are served with a side of real beans and Spanish rice, and it really is hard to go wrong with any choice here.

I fared nicely with Huarachito Tizoc, a cactus relleno stuffed with slightly grilled shrimp and layered with cheese. The thin skin of the cactus yields juicy meat, tasting a little like bell pepper without the headtrip. The shrimp are similarly thin-skinned, juicy, and completely perfect, popping in the mouth with little pressure from the teeth. Hidden under all that gooey cheese, the dish tasted fantastic in one big mash, as well as delicately pleasing as the ingredients tumbled out and were sampled separately.


Dinner at La Parilla is completely filling and utterly satisfying, one of the best Mexican meals I’ve had in Los Angeles on the few occasions I’ve been. Alongside the amazing food, and excellent, grilled meats and specialties, is the joyous, warm atmosphere, crazed with chat, bustle, and music. Both add up to an experience that feels fresh, authentic, and fun at the same time. It is worth the loot for a nicer restaurant, cruising in or around Boyle Heights with family, or more explicitly with a date you’re hitting it off with, ooohing and ahhing and la-la-laaing over a molcajete of your own! And might there be a kid’s menu molcajetito in your future, you two?

Paid up and preparing to make our escape, the mariachi-saturated birthday jam seemed ready to do the same. Sure enough though, there was a billing problem. The young mother of the brood next to us, who moments before had been clapping and singing along to the mariachi swing, suddenly found herself in debt for $300 for musical services rendered. Shadily claiming she had had her money stolen, turning her wallet inside out over and over, the scene was akward for everyone who had been in listening distance of the festive music.

Said scene uncomfortably got resolved at some point and life moved on. With the TACO crew loosening our belts and picking our teeth on the way out, we sure enough spied the same IOU mariachi mom slip into the next booth that the band moved to entertain mere moments later. Singing and clapping along as if she just entered the restaurant for the first time, we became convinced…we were staring at an honest-to-goodness mariachi junkie!!

[Rick Farris]

WBHOF "Idiots" from days gone by . . .

Armando Muniz and I will be stuffing WBHOF ballots into envelopes tomorrow.

Don Fraser called me tonight. He was helpful to me in pointing out errors in past WBHOF programs.
I have undertaken the task of straightening out "Who is" and "Who Ain't" actually inducted.
I can't believe what I am finding, the master list of inductees has left out a number of those already inducted.
To make things worse, names are included of fighters who were never inducted, or whom would never qualify for such.

As I was attempting to sort the mess out, Fraser calls out of nowhere, as if he knew what I was doing.
"Do you know Rick, they haven't got Marty Servo's name on the Roll Call?"

I told Don that they also don't have Jimmy Lennon Sr's name listed, although he was inducted years ago.
I then shared the most enbarrassing find of all, "Guess who the master list suggests WAS inducted?" I ask.
"Whose that?" Fraser asks.
"Mitch 'Blood' Green. The guy who Tyson beat up in the street!"
"Are you serious?" Don asked.
"Yes. Sad but true."

I also told the former promoter, publicist and founder of the California Hall of Fame of a few other names I found, past year Inductees whose names are absent from the Roll Call: Ted "Kid" Lewis and Johnny Kilbain, both who were inducted a quarter century back, but whose names mysteriously have disappeared from the Roll Call.

"Well, I hope my name doesn't disappear from the list." Said Don, who was inducted a couple decades back.
I assured him, "Over my dead body."

Fraser said he would look thru back issues of our program, and see if he can find other errors.
If it's wrong this year, the buck stops here. Blame it on me.
As for the past, Everett Sanders is no doubt rolling in his grave, and maybe he should be.
It was those he brought in, that turned this organization into a politically incorrect men's club, not a Hall of Fame.
A once a year social club, absent of true boxing history. If they truly were for the fighters, they'd have created a museum.
All they did was create chaos. But I'll do my best to correct their errors.

Thanks to Don for his input, he was long aware of the problems.
It's time to make things right. Lucky for me I have some time to devote to this, and some great help.

If you want to have fun, check into the Wikipedia on-line dictionary of WBHOF Inductees, look under the "G" section, and you'll find the name, Mitch "Blood" Green.


-Rick Farris

[bennie]

WBHOF "Idiots" from days gone by . . .

Armando Muniz and I will be stuffing WBHOF ballots into envelopes tomorrow.

Don Fraser called me tonight. He was helpful to me in pointing out errors in past WBHOF programs.
I have undertaken the task of straightening out "Who is" and "Who Ain't" actually inducted.
I can't believe what I am finding, the master list of inductees has left out a number of those already inducted.
To make things worse, names are included of fighters who were never inducted, or whom would never qualify for such.

As I was attempting to sort the mess out, Fraser calls out of nowhere, as if he knew what I was doing.
"Do you know Rick, they haven't got Marty Servo's name on the Roll Call?"

I told Don that they also don't have Jimmy Lennon Sr's name listed, although he was inducted years ago.
I then shared the most enbarrassing find of all, "Guess who the master list suggests WAS inducted?" I ask.
"Whose that?" Fraser asks.
"Mitch 'Blood' Green. The guy who Tyson beat up in the street!"
"Are you serious?" Don asked.
"Yes. Sad but true."

I also told the former promoter, publicist and founder of the California Hall of Fame of a few other names I found, past year Inductees whose names are absent from the Roll Call: Ted "Kid" Lewis and Johnny Kilbain, both who were inducted a quarter century back, but whose names mysteriously have disappeared from the Roll Call.

"Well, I hope my name doesn't disappear from the list." Said Don, who was inducted a couple decades back.
I assured him, "Over my dead body."

Fraser said he would look thru back issues of our program, and see if he can find other errors.
If it's wrong this year, the buck stops here. Blame it on me.
As for the past, Everett Sanders is no doubt rolling in his grave, and maybe he should be.
It was those he brought in, that turned this organization into a politically incorrect men's club, not a Hall of Fame.
A once a year social club, absent of true boxing history. If they truly were for the fighters, they'd have created a museum.
All they did was create chaos. But I'll do my best to correct their errors.

Thanks to Don for his input, he was long aware of the problems.
It's time to make things right. Lucky for me I have some time to devote to this, and some great help.

If you want to have fun, check into the Wikipedia on-line dictionary of WBHOF Inductees, look under the "G" section, and you'll find the name, Mitch "Blood" Green.


-Rick Farris

Mitch Green! That is unbelievable. My brother went to MSG many years ago to watch a big fight (I think it may have been Norris-Leonard) and Green was stomping round the place chanting "Tyson is a homo." In saying that, I once read a story where Don King ran for his life on seeing Green approaching.

[kikibalt]

It was at La Parilla where I last saw the Olympic Auditorium's Spanish PR guy, Luis Magana, on a Sunday morning Connie and I were on our way back home from Van Nuys after having our tax papers done and we decided to stop at the La Parilla for a late breakfast, as we walked in through the back door I spotted Magana sitting by himself, he was still waiting for his breakfast so we invited Luis to sit with us, we sat for a while after eating and reminisce of younger times, I soon heard after that that he had moved to Boston to live with his daughter where he lived until he passed, Luis was a fun guy to be around, I have some fun memories of times that I spent with him in Las Vegas.

[Rick Farris]

It was at La Parilla where I last saw the Olympic Auditorium's Spanish PR guy, Luis Magana, on a Sunday morning Connie and I were on our way back home from Van Nuys after having our tax papers done and we decided to stop at the La Parilla for a late breakfast, as we walked in through the back door I spotted Magana sitting by himself, he was still waiting for his breakfast so we invited Luis to sit with us, we sat for a while after eating and reminisce of younger times, I soon heard after that that he had moved to Boston to live with his daughter where he lived until he passed, Luis was a fun guy to be around, I have some fun memories of times that I spent with him in Las Vegas.

I remember when Luis and Don Fraser both did publicity for the Olympic. Luis handled the PR in Spanish. Good guy.


-Rick

[scartissue]

WBHOF "Idiots" from days gone by . . .

Armando Muniz and I will be stuffing WBHOF ballots into envelopes tomorrow.

Don Fraser called me tonight. He was helpful to me in pointing out errors in past WBHOF programs.
I have undertaken the task of straightening out "Who is" and "Who Ain't" actually inducted.
I can't believe what I am finding, the master list of inductees has left out a number of those already inducted.
To make things worse, names are included of fighters who were never inducted, or whom would never qualify for such.

As I was attempting to sort the mess out, Fraser calls out of nowhere, as if he knew what I was doing.
"Do you know Rick, they haven't got Marty Servo's name on the Roll Call?"

I told Don that they also don't have Jimmy Lennon Sr's name listed, although he was inducted years ago.
I then shared the most enbarrassing find of all, "Guess who the master list suggests WAS inducted?" I ask.
"Whose that?" Fraser asks.
"Mitch 'Blood' Green. The guy who Tyson beat up in the street!"
"Are you serious?" Don asked.
"Yes. Sad but true."

I also told the former promoter, publicist and founder of the California Hall of Fame of a few other names I found, past year Inductees whose names are absent from the Roll Call: Ted "Kid" Lewis and Johnny Kilbain, both who were inducted a quarter century back, but whose names mysteriously have disappeared from the Roll Call.

"Well, I hope my name doesn't disappear from the list." Said Don, who was inducted a couple decades back.
I assured him, "Over my dead body."

Fraser said he would look thru back issues of our program, and see if he can find other errors.
If it's wrong this year, the buck stops here. Blame it on me.
As for the past, Everett Sanders is no doubt rolling in his grave, and maybe he should be.
It was those he brought in, that turned this organization into a politically incorrect men's club, not a Hall of Fame.
A once a year social club, absent of true boxing history. If they truly were for the fighters, they'd have created a museum.
All they did was create chaos. But I'll do my best to correct their errors.

Thanks to Don for his input, he was long aware of the problems.
It's time to make things right. Lucky for me I have some time to devote to this, and some great help.

If you want to have fun, check into the Wikipedia on-line dictionary of WBHOF Inductees, look under the "G" section, and you'll find the name, Mitch "Blood" Green.


-Rick Farris

Blood Green?! How in the world did that happen? Time to set things right, Rick.

Scartissue

[Rick Farris]

WBHOF "Idiots" from days gone by . . .

Armando Muniz and I will be stuffing WBHOF ballots into envelopes tomorrow.

Don Fraser called me tonight. He was helpful to me in pointing out errors in past WBHOF programs.
I have undertaken the task of straightening out "Who is" and "Who Ain't" actually inducted.
I can't believe what I am finding, the master list of inductees has left out a number of those already inducted.
To make things worse, names are included of fighters who were never inducted, or whom would never qualify for such.

As I was attempting to sort the mess out, Fraser calls out of nowhere, as if he knew what I was doing.
"Do you know Rick, they haven't got Marty Servo's name on the Roll Call?"

I told Don that they also don't have Jimmy Lennon Sr's name listed, although he was inducted years ago.
I then shared the most enbarrassing find of all, "Guess who the master list suggests WAS inducted?" I ask.
"Whose that?" Fraser asks.
"Mitch 'Blood' Green. The guy who Tyson beat up in the street!"
"Are you serious?" Don asked.
"Yes. Sad but true."

I also told the former promoter, publicist and founder of the California Hall of Fame of a few other names I found, past year Inductees whose names are absent from the Roll Call: Ted "Kid" Lewis and Johnny Kilbain, both who were inducted a quarter century back, but whose names mysteriously have disappeared from the Roll Call.

"Well, I hope my name doesn't disappear from the list." Said Don, who was inducted a couple decades back.
I assured him, "Over my dead body."

Fraser said he would look thru back issues of our program, and see if he can find other errors.
If it's wrong this year, the buck stops here. Blame it on me.
As for the past, Everett Sanders is no doubt rolling in his grave, and maybe he should be.
It was those he brought in, that turned this organization into a politically incorrect men's club, not a Hall of Fame.
A once a year social club, absent of true boxing history. If they truly were for the fighters, they'd have created a museum.
All they did was create chaos. But I'll do my best to correct their errors.

Thanks to Don for his input, he was long aware of the problems.
It's time to make things right. Lucky for me I have some time to devote to this, and some great help.

If you want to have fun, check into the Wikipedia on-line dictionary of WBHOF Inductees, look under the "G" section, and you'll find the name, Mitch "Blood" Green.


-Rick Farris

Blood Green?! How in the world did that happen? Time to set things right, Rick.

Scartissue

He was never inducted, Dan.
But how the Hell did his name get on our "Role Call"?
And why were the others left off? How difficult is it to keep track of the few names inducted annually?

Do you know that Charley Goldman has not been inducted, yet Thell Torrance has.
Thell is a good guy, was Frank's assistant coach for the '73 L.A. Golden Gloves team.
Goldman trained the only unbeaten World Heavyweight Champion, Rocky Marciano, and other legends.
Who would boxing history consider more worthy?

When approached with this info, the guys shrug their shoulders and try to change the subject.
I'll see what I can do, but I'm getting angry. I shouldn't take it so personal.
This is the internet, I'm sharing this with the world. I don't care, there needs to be some awareness.
Not everybody knows boxing history, but the sad part is that most don't give a damn. I do.


-Rick Farris

[Randyman]

Gustavo Arellano of 'Ask a Mexican!' on Cinco de Mayo


Robert Lachman / Los Angeles Times
Gustavo Arellano mixes humor and social commentary in his "¡Ask a Mexican!" column.

By Elina Shatkin, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
May 1, 2008

Puerile provocation or Swiftian satire? Let critics debate the merits of "¡Ask a Mexican!," Gustavo Arellano's witty, profane and occasionally edifying OC Weekly column. We're more interested in the Guatemalan-baiting, tamale-loving Mexican's thoughts on Cinco de Mayo.

Is Cinco de Mayo a real holiday or is it just a beer company holiday?

Cinco de Mayo is an actual holiday that commemorates Mexico's victory over France in the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. What's never noted is that a year later, the French came back, slaughtered the Mexicans, then occupied Mexico for four years until the Mexicans finally kicked them out. If this is what passes for a Mexican holiday, no wonder the only way to celebrate it is by drinking ourselves into oblivion.

Cinco de Mayo vs. St. Patrick's Day: Who would win?

I'd have to say St. Patrick's Day. Leprechauns get much more drunk and much more aggressive than Mexicans.

How about Cinco de Mayo vs. Oktoberfest?

Cinco de Mayo. Mexicans, when we get drunk, we get happy. Germans, when they get drunk, they get foolish. More important, Mexicans are even more German than Germans. All of our music -- oompah and polka and all that -- is based on German music. You put a Mexican in Oktoberfest, he starts dancing. You put a German in Cinco de Mayo, he scratches his head.

I never knew the accordion was such a cultural unifier.

Banda music -- the big brass bands you'll hear rattling from a Lincoln Navigator if you drive around South-Central -- that's just a German oompah band. And in the conjunto norteños where you hear the accordions, those are just Czech and Polish polkas. Nowadays, the only people in America who think the accordion is cool are people in Cleveland -- and Mexicans.

Some tend to lump all the Central and South American ethnicities together. But what do Guatemalans, Hondurans, Salvadorans and so forth do on Cinco de Mayo?

It's an occasion to party. That's the one thing that unifies Latinos. Not even the Spanish language unifies us. It's the party. On Cinco de Mayo, everyone's an honorary Mexican. It gives you a pass to get as drunk as possible, and I think that's something all races can agree on.

For an Angeleno who somehow knows nothing about Cinco de Mayo, how do you recommend they celebrate?

Eat Mexican food at real Mexican restaurants. Do not go to El Torito. Do not go to El Cholo. Celebrate true Mexican independence from tyranny by going to a taco truck, especially now when the Board of Supervisors basically wants to regulate them out of existence.

In a recent column you touched on "symbolic ethnicity." Can you elaborate?

There's this idea that somehow Mexicans will always remain Mexicans, that all we do is speak Spanish, not tip properly and swim in the ocean with our clothes on. But one of the main ways that immigrants first make their mark on the country (and by default, assimilate) is by celebrating holidays. At one point, St. Patrick's Day was only celebrated by the Irish. Now it's almost a national holiday. Cinco de Mayo is still viewed as this quaint, Mexican-only holiday, but more and more people celebrate it. This means that Americans are more and more comfortable with Mexicans being in this country and the idea of them ultimately being no different from other Americans.

El Cholo, Ruben Navarro & my 21st birthday party . . .

I'm a gringo, so what I have to say about Mexican food carries no weight here.
I agree with what the guy says about El Torito. Crappy food and bad margaritas
However, "El Cholo" is my all-time favorite restaurant. It's located on Western Ave. just south of Olympic Blvd.
I will choose this eating establishment over any other place in the world, I don't care what type food, etc.

The place has been there since 1918. They say the food is "Sonora Style", and this Gabacho doesn't care if Mexican's like it or not.
Their Margarita's are beyond compare and I've had them everywhere.
This is the first place I ever got drunk. I was 18, shortly before my pro debut.
My future sister-in-law, Kam Nelson was 19 at the time, and had just married Olympic pole vault gold medalist Bob Seagren.
They will never let me forget that day. Neither will I forget my surprise 21st birthday party that was held there three years later.

On the day of my birthday, my soon-to-be wife Karla, Ruben Navarro & wife Carol, Bob & Kam Seagren, Rams wide receiever, Lance Rentzel & his actress wife Joey Heatherton, Olympic shot put record holder Brian Oldfield, welterweight Gil King, lightweight Ron Cisneros, heavyweight Kit Boursse', other friends and my family was there.

Ruben and I go to the bar to order a couple pitchers of Margaritas. The bartender is Mexican, he seemed to have a chip on his shoulder.
When we place our order he asks for our ID's. I show him mine but Ruben's driver's license had been suspended, Carol had driven so he didn't have ID.
The bartender looks at me and says, "You can drink". He then looks at Ruben and says, "You can't."
Ruben protests, "I'm 26! Do you know who I am?"
The bartender answers, "Yeah, you're the guy I'm going to toss out of here if you don't quiet down!"

Ruben's dark Chicano eyes are blazing. He tells the bartender . . .
"Well then, get all the cholos from the kitchen and tell them to bring their lunches, it's going to be an all day affair!"

Suddenly, big Brian Oldfield, all 6'8" & 280lbs of him, Lance Rentzel, heavyweight Kit Boursse', Gil King, Ronnie Cisneros, Seagren and our father-in law Karl Nelson (the most dangerous of all) are standing behind Ruben.

The manager quickly shows up and relieves the bartender of his duty that afternoon.
He apologized to Ruben and asks him for an autograph.
The "Maravilla Kid" drank on the house the rest of the day.

I'm not Mexican, and in the eyes of Ruben Navarro, neither was the bartender.
However, I love that food. When I have guests from out of the country or just out of town, I take them to El Cholo.

Call me a Gabacho, Gringo, Honky, Cracker, whatever. Just don't forget to call me if you want some company at El Cholo.
It's MY kinda place!


-Ricardo Farris, "El Gringo Bandito"

Rick, Thanks for sharing that. El Cholo to my knowledge is the oldest continuous running Mexican restaurant in Los Angeles. Though it is not my favorite Mexican restaurant it is one that Jeri and I eat at every so often. I enjoy their food. We eat at the El Cholo's in La Habra. The menus are identical. The food is somewher between authentic and commercial but still very good.

Randy

[Randyman]

El Tepeyac Cafe: Pull Up a Seat at Manuel's Place



There is no question that El Tepeyac Cafe, a fifty-plus-year-old Mexican establishment in Boyle Heights, is legendary. Stories swirl amongst foodies, local and otherwise, about the monumentally oversized burritos and equally over-the-top owner, Manuel. My parents tell tales about the "poor old days" when they would hungrily dig into one of the "Manuel's Special" burritos, whose four pounds of meat, rice, and beans was enough to feed two skinny kids for days on end. No visit to the East Side would be complete without a stop at El Tepeyac, where the ever-present line outside the door isn't enough to deter locals who have depended on this place for their burrito fix since time immemorial. Even Hillary Clinton herself visited back in 1998 during her "Save America's Treasures" campaign -- although she hardly did justice to the Special.



So does El Tepeyac live up to the hype? Is it the best burrito in the city? Probably not. The portion sizes can't be denied: it's a good deal for the money (a Hollenbeck or Okie Burrito for about $7.50, Manuel's Special is about $11). But the meat (machaca, pork, or carne asada) is hit and miss, the rice & bean filling nothing special, and although the red chile sauce that coats the wet burritos packs a punch, it took several additional spoonfuls of salsa to get my Okie up to proper spiciness standards.

With all of this under consideration, however, is El Tepeyac still worth a visit? Absolutely. Let me tell you why.



Perched on a sunny hill-top street in Boyle Heights, right across from a bustling Catholic church (an especially cheery locale on Sundays), the restaurant has a homey atmosphere and a casual vibe that really hits the spot if you're in the mood for a lazy Sunday lunch. Service is prompt and efficient, but nothing compares to a visit from Manuel himself, who has owned and operated El Tepeyac for over fifty years. He's the reason that generations of Angelenos return to this place, gathering their children and grandchildren around a modest table to genuflect at an altar of Californian authenticity.

Manuel is a wizened little man in a dishwasher's apron, with a raspy, time-worn voice that carries strongly throughout the small dining room. He cuddles babies and kisses women on the hand; he also carries around three varieties of tequila in plastic apple juice bottles, which he disperses with a free hand to all patrons -- even at 11 in the morning. At one point during our meal, he perched himself high above the diner counter and cried out: "Merry Christmas everybody!" And you know what? Everyone in the place responded "Merry Christmas!" right back at him. Probably because they were all a little drunk. Nothing wrong with that.

Your best bet at El Tepeyac is definitely to order one of the famous burritos -- there's the Hollenbeck, stewed pork with rice, beans, and guacamole resting under a shroud of soft tortilla and coated with ranchero sauce. This is not a pick-it-up-and-eat-it kind of endeavor: this is a serious fork-and-knife kind of thing. The pork is dry, to be sure, but flavorful and tender to the tooth, a sign that it's been stewed long and low. You can also get it with machaca, and some versions come stuffed with egg. The Okie burrito is similarly constructed, but doused instead with a vibrant red chile sauce.

Or if you're the type who goes big or doesn't got at all: there's Manuel's Special. Four pounds of meat, cheese, guac, rice, beans, eggs, and whatever else you want thrown in there. So large it's almost laughable, but probably still good the next day.

You can get any of these burritos with chicken or even in vegetarian form, but the rest of the menu is also extensive and worthwhile. Chile rellano burritos, tacos of all kinds, menudo, enchiladas, the gooiest, brightest green guacamole you have ever laid eyes on, flautas, and dinner plates with seafood, chicken, pork, or beef. Don't forget the jamaica and the horchata to balance out the spice of the excellent house salsa.

It's sometimes hard to understand Manuel's wheezy story-telling, but even the snatches you do catch: "West Point -- President Roosevelt -- arthritis -- fifty-six years!" are filled with history and love. I would venture to say that you're not a real Angeleno until you've pulled up a seat to one of those formica-covered tables and shared a tequila shot with Manuel. He is the proud parent of those fat baby-sized burritos, and even if they're not the best you've ever tasted, this place won't fail to put a smile on your face.

El Tepeyac Cafe
812 North Evergreen Ave
Boyle Heights
(213) 268-1960

El Tepeyac's is where I reached full manhood by eating one and one half of a Manuel's special. I did this when I was 17. I would have eaten two but Mike Teran and another friend ate the other half. The burrito is so big you need pallbeares to bring it to the table. Great food and there is almost always a crowd and a line that goes down the block.

Randy

[kikibalt]

Gustavo Arellano of 'Ask a Mexican!' on Cinco de Mayo


Robert Lachman / Los Angeles Times
Gustavo Arellano mixes humor and social commentary in his "¡Ask a Mexican!" column.

By Elina Shatkin, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
May 1, 2008

Puerile provocation or Swiftian satire? Let critics debate the merits of "¡Ask a Mexican!," Gustavo Arellano's witty, profane and occasionally edifying OC Weekly column. We're more interested in the Guatemalan-baiting, tamale-loving Mexican's thoughts on Cinco de Mayo.

Is Cinco de Mayo a real holiday or is it just a beer company holiday?

Cinco de Mayo is an actual holiday that commemorates Mexico's victory over France in the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. What's never noted is that a year later, the French came back, slaughtered the Mexicans, then occupied Mexico for four years until the Mexicans finally kicked them out. If this is what passes for a Mexican holiday, no wonder the only way to celebrate it is by drinking ourselves into oblivion.

Cinco de Mayo vs. St. Patrick's Day: Who would win?

I'd have to say St. Patrick's Day. Leprechauns get much more drunk and much more aggressive than Mexicans.

How about Cinco de Mayo vs. Oktoberfest?

Cinco de Mayo. Mexicans, when we get drunk, we get happy. Germans, when they get drunk, they get foolish. More important, Mexicans are even more German than Germans. All of our music -- oompah and polka and all that -- is based on German music. You put a Mexican in Oktoberfest, he starts dancing. You put a German in Cinco de Mayo, he scratches his head.

I never knew the accordion was such a cultural unifier.

Banda music -- the big brass bands you'll hear rattling from a Lincoln Navigator if you drive around South-Central -- that's just a German oompah band. And in the conjunto norteños where you hear the accordions, those are just Czech and Polish polkas. Nowadays, the only people in America who think the accordion is cool are people in Cleveland -- and Mexicans.

Some tend to lump all the Central and South American ethnicities together. But what do Guatemalans, Hondurans, Salvadorans and so forth do on Cinco de Mayo?

It's an occasion to party. That's the one thing that unifies Latinos. Not even the Spanish language unifies us. It's the party. On Cinco de Mayo, everyone's an honorary Mexican. It gives you a pass to get as drunk as possible, and I think that's something all races can agree on.

For an Angeleno who somehow knows nothing about Cinco de Mayo, how do you recommend they celebrate?

Eat Mexican food at real Mexican restaurants. Do not go to El Torito. Do not go to El Cholo. Celebrate true Mexican independence from tyranny by going to a taco truck, especially now when the Board of Supervisors basically wants to regulate them out of existence.

In a recent column you touched on "symbolic ethnicity." Can you elaborate?

There's this idea that somehow Mexicans will always remain Mexicans, that all we do is speak Spanish, not tip properly and swim in the ocean with our clothes on. But one of the main ways that immigrants first make their mark on the country (and by default, assimilate) is by celebrating holidays. At one point, St. Patrick's Day was only celebrated by the Irish. Now it's almost a national holiday. Cinco de Mayo is still viewed as this quaint, Mexican-only holiday, but more and more people celebrate it. This means that Americans are more and more comfortable with Mexicans being in this country and the idea of them ultimately being no different from other Americans.

El Cholo, Ruben Navarro & my 21st birthday party . . .

I'm a gringo, so what I have to say about Mexican food carries no weight here.
I agree with what the guy says about El Torito. Crappy food and bad margaritas
However, "El Cholo" is my all-time favorite restaurant. It's located on Western Ave. just south of Olympic Blvd.
I will choose this eating establishment over any other place in the world, I don't care what type food, etc.

The place has been there since 1918. They say the food is "Sonora Style", and this Gabacho doesn't care if Mexican's like it or not.
Their Margarita's are beyond compare and I've had them everywhere.
This is the first place I ever got drunk. I was 18, shortly before my pro debut.
My future sister-in-law, Kam Nelson was 19 at the time, and had just married Olympic pole vault gold medalist Bob Seagren.
They will never let me forget that day. Neither will I forget my surprise 21st birthday party that was held there three years later.

On the day of my birthday, my soon-to-be wife Karla, Ruben Navarro & wife Carol, Bob & Kam Seagren, Rams wide receiever, Lance Rentzel & his actress wife Joey Heatherton, Olympic shot put record holder Brian Oldfield, welterweight Gil King, lightweight Ron Cisneros, heavyweight Kit Boursse', other friends and my family was there.

Ruben and I go to the bar to order a couple pitchers of Margaritas. The bartender is Mexican, he seemed to have a chip on his shoulder.
When we place our order he asks for our ID's. I show him mine but Ruben's driver's license had been suspended, Carol had driven so he didn't have ID.
The bartender looks at me and says, "You can drink". He then looks at Ruben and says, "You can't."
Ruben protests, "I'm 26! Do you know who I am?"
The bartender answers, "Yeah, you're the guy I'm going to toss out of here if you don't quiet down!"

Ruben's dark Chicano eyes are blazing. He tells the bartender . . .
"Well then, get all the cholos from the kitchen and tell them to bring their lunches, it's going to be an all day affair!"

Suddenly, big Brian Oldfield, all 6'8" & 280lbs of him, Lance Rentzel, heavyweight Kit Boursse', Gil King, Ronnie Cisneros, Seagren and our father-in law Karl Nelson (the most dangerous of all) are standing behind Ruben.

The manager quickly shows up and relieves the bartender of his duty that afternoon.
He apologized to Ruben and asks him for an autograph.
The "Maravilla Kid" drank on the house the rest of the day.

I'm not Mexican, and in the eyes of Ruben Navarro, neither was the bartender.
However, I love that food. When I have guests from out of the country or just out of town, I take them to El Cholo.

Call me a Gabacho, Gringo, Honky, Cracker, whatever. Just don't forget to call me if you want some company at El Cholo.
It's MY kinda place!


-Ricardo Farris, "El Gringo Bandito"

Rick, Thanks for sharing that. El Cholo to my knowledge is the oldest continuous running Mexican restaurant in Los Angeles. Though it is not my favorite Mexican restaurant it is one that Jeri and I eat at every so often. I enjoy their food. We eat at the El Cholo's in La Habra. The menus are identical. The food is somewher between authentic and commercial but still very good.

Randy

El Cholo is where the tourists go, I used to go there (one on Western) for the Margarita's, ate there a time or two, but for home like food you can't beat Manuel's, Ciro's or La Parilla....