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At KCON, fans from around the world dance with their favorite K-pop idols — and each other

At KCON, fans from around the world dance with their favorite K-pop idols — and each other

Los Angeles Times19 hours ago
On Friday, the Los Angeles Convention Center was a sea of green.
The convention center was home to L.A.'s 12th annual KCON, a Korean music festival that ran from Friday to Sunday. While the three-day convention began in 2012 as a celebration of K-pop, its programming has expanded to feature panels with K-drama actors, skincare booths and Webtoons, or Korean digital comics.
Each day of the convention culminates in a concert at the Crypto.com Arena. On Friday, the concert closed with an act by K-pop boy group NCT 127, whose signature color is lime green (or, to get specific, 'Pearl Neo Champagne'). At both the convention and the show, fans of the group showed their support by sporting green clothing, accessories, bags and banners.
For many, KCON offers a unique opportunity for fans to get up close with their favorite idols. One of the event's marquee performances is the Dream Stage, where a few lucky winners were selected to dance onstage with a K-pop group during the mainstage show.
24-year-old Jaelyn Jones flew to L.A. from Virginia to audition for Friday's Dream Stage. Arriving in a lime green T-shirt and matching bandana, she's one of dozens of applicants vying to perform NCT 127's 'Fact Check' on the KCON stage.
'I'm so proud of everybody here,' Jones says. 'Everybody worked so hard, so I'm really excited for the day.'
After receiving the email that she had passed the online round of auditions, Jones put her all into perfecting the dance. A member of the dance crews District Soul and Konnect DMV, she studied videos of NCT 127, learning their style but also adding her own flair to the choreography.
'I'll work a full 9 to 6 or something, and I'll still come home and just keep practicing,' Jones says. 'I was very dedicated to this.'
The success of KCON, which has attracted 2.1 million in-person concertgoers over its 12 years of operation, signifies a growing international audience for Korean pop culture. Since its beginning, the festival has expanded to 10 countries including Japan, Saudi Arabia and Germany, as interest in Korean culture has spread globally in what has become known as the hallyu wave.
Park Chan Uk, the head of live entertainment business at KCON organizer CJ ENM, points to the popularity of K-pop groups like BTS, Blackpink and Stray Kids as contributing to Korean culture's international appeal. But Park also cites the global reach of Korean movies and TV shows such as 'Squid Game' and 'KPop Demon Hunters,' as well as Korean beauty products. Indeed, KCON's primary sponsor this year is the Korean cosmetics chain Olive Young.
Park says that all these different avenues, from music to skincare, have turned the overseas perception of Korean culture into 'a very promising lifestyle that appeals to the global audience.'
K-pop's international reach was evident in this year's KCON lineup, which included Full Circle Boys, an American boy group that takes influence from K-pop. The group was created by choreographer Keone Madrid, who is behind several of K-pop's most famous dances, including Jungkook of BTS's 'Standing Next to You.'
'There are all these amazing groups in Korea,' Madrid says about what inspired him to form the group. 'Why isn't there a group at home for us to work with that will lean into dance as much as these Korean groups do, but also put that American spin on it?'
Aidan Talingting from San Diego, Calif., decided to come to KCON because several of his favorite groups were performing. But for him and many others, going to the convention had a second purpose: to meet and spend time with other K-pop fans. Talingting traveled to KCON with friends Anitza Cerna and Dahrla Silva, both of whom hail from Tijuana, Mexico.
'We got to meet a lot of new people,' Talingting says. 'It's been a great experience making friends and seeing your favorite artists. I really love it because it brings everyone together like a family.'
Talingting and Silva, who attended the same high school, met Cerna at a concert in 2023. She approached the two after overhearing them talk about K-pop. For many fans, their shared love of Korean music provides an avenue for forming lasting friendships.
One such friendship was evident at KCON's X Stage, where rookie boy group Newbeat performed to a cheering audience. In the middle of the crowd was a group of a dozen or so enthusiastic fans, many of whom were wearing personalized Newbeat jerseys. Though a large number of fans may have interacted with each other online, KCON was their first time seeing each other in person.
One fan, who goes by Ash online, first saw the group at last year's KCON and was instantly a fan. Benji, who is based in Boston, became a fan when her K-pop dance crew collaborated with the group. Many of them have supported Newbeat since — or even before — their official debut in March.
'We're here to wholeheartedly support Newbeat, literally from beginning of the day to end of the day,' says a fan named Olive.
While Newbeat is a lesser-known act, performing only at the convention and as an opening act for Sunday's main concert, the fans' enthusiasm is anything but small. They waved signs with the members' names and pass out homemade pamphlets about Newbeat to convention-goers. They gushed about the group's multiple performances on the convention floor, which included the premiere of their new song 'Cappuccino' and a cover of Katseye's 'Gnarly.'
When asked what made them decide to come to KCON together, they all say in unison: 'Group chat!'
The fans, who met on X, are an example of how K-pop and its fandom — particularly overseas fans who can't travel to see their idols live — leans heavily on the internet. They cast online votes for Newbeat on music shows, attend video fan calls and communicate with the members using Plus Chat, an app that lets fans and idols message each other.
But they also made a group chat to discuss the possibility of seeing Newbeat — and each other — in person at KCON. Several traveled across the country to make their plans a reality, sometimes taking multiple flights.
'As they say, the plans made it out of the group chat,' Olive says.
In the few days since meeting in person for the first time, the group has quickly bonded, sharing inside jokes and talking over each other like longtime best friends.
'It's literally been nonstop talking, laughing — it certainly feels like we've known each other for months,' Olive says.
'We get along very well because we're so passionate about the same thing and supporting Newbeat,' Benji adds. 'We can relate to each other, so I think that's how we became very close.'
For some attendees, their aspirations at KCON go beyond meeting other fans and seeing their favorite artists. The convention included an open audition for Season 4 of 'Produce 101 Japan,' a competition reality TV franchise that aims to create a Japanese idol group. Male applicants were invited to try out for the program with a one-minute song, rap or dance.
19-year-old Chris Zamora from Torrance, Calif., decided to audition after staff at the convention's 'Produce 101' booth encouraged him to do so.
'I thought going into it would be very nerve-racking, but they were really welcoming,' Zamora says. 'They asked a lot of questions, and they obviously care about everyone who enters the audition.'
Outside the Dream Stage tryout room, Jaelyn Jones waits with bated breath. A KCON staff member announces the numbers of the dancers who passed the final audition — and sure enough, Jones' number is called.
'It just feels very surreal. I feel like I'm not here,' Jones says.
At the mainstage concert that night, the Dream Stage winners rush onto the stage to dance to the chorus of 'Fact Check' with NCT 127. The arena lights up in green as K-pop fans — male and female, young and old, from around the globe — perform the high-energy song alongside the group that recorded it.
In the audience are Jones' friends from home, cheering her on.
'I think it's gonna become a ritual or traditional type of thing with my friends [where] we come here every year,' she says.
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K-Pop Icons MONSTA X On Their Explosive Return To KCON LA 2025
K-Pop Icons MONSTA X On Their Explosive Return To KCON LA 2025

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K-Pop Icons MONSTA X On Their Explosive Return To KCON LA 2025

On Saturday night, K-pop titans, MONSTA X, made their triumphant return to the KCON's M Countdown stage at the Arena in Los Angeles. It had been nine years since MONSTA X – Shownu, Minhyuk, Kihyun, Hyungwon, Joohoney, and I.M – appeared at KCON LA, the largest K-Culture festival in the U.S. They performed in 2015 and 2016. Unfortunately, the rapper and the youngest member, I.M, could not attend this year due to a back injury. U.S. MONBEBE - the name for MONSTA X fans – have waited three years since the 'No Limit' Tour to see the group perform. Though the group's leader, Shownu, was in military service during that time, he returned to the U.S. with Hyungwon to perform as a unit, Shownu X Hyungwon, at KCON LA and Krazy K-pop Super Concert after his discharge in 2023. I.M did his first solo world tour last year. The anticipation of the group's return was felt throughout the room, as Mondoongie (MONSTA X lightsticks) lit up the stadium alongside other groups' lightsticks. The energy was palpable as cheers, barking, and screams erupted as the lights went down. The group gave powerful performances of 'Beautiful Liar,' 'WHO DO YOU LOVE?,' 'Play It Cool,' and their Dream Stage song, 'Gambler,' which had select fan dancers dance alongside them. Fan chants could be heard as each song was played, which seemed to fuel the members even further. The love for the group was felt throughout the arena, and the members appreciated it. 'We've missed U.S. MONBEBE so much,' Kihyun said after the concert. 'It's been a few years since we've been here, and we really felt the energy from the crowd. We're so thankful for the dancers who joined us on the dream stage because they practiced a lot, and it was a really new and meaningful experience to create this performance together.' The days before KCON, I met with the group at their hotel in Los Angeles to discuss their upcoming appearance. Their eyes lit up as I entered the room wearing a MONSTA X tour shirt. Though MONSTA X is considered one of the most popular groups globally, they seemed genuinely surprised to be recognized. Minhyuk even asked, 'Is that ours?' They asked when I'd seen them live, which caused Joohoney's eyes to widen as I told them several times, including when they performed at KCON both times and Shownu X Hyungwon's KCON set two years ago. They all expressed thanks for the support over the years, which left a sense of comfort in the room for the rest of the conversation. The members expressed their excitement about returning to KCON LA, where they had their first U.S. performance just three months after their official debut in 2015. Though it has been awhile since they've been in the U.S., they feel like they've never left, thanks to their strong connection with the fans. 'It's so familiar to me and for the group,' says Kihyun. 'We can't wait to see our stages for our fans. It's so exciting.' Hyungwon was just as thrilled, despite having performed with Shownu just two years ago, to be at KCON LA again. He says, 'There were different feelings now, because we are back in our group [as MONSTA X].' When they first performed at KCON, they were a 'rookie' group, but now return as K-pop veterans, headlining the show. But, they all still feel like they're rookies. 'We feel the same,' Minhyuk laughs. Shownu adds, 'Oh yeah, the same. [I feel] like a rookie again, for sure. We have to work really hard. My [mind] is still a rookie, but it looks like [I'm a veteran].' Surrounded by several new (and rookie) groups, Joohoney says they all have the same mindset in terms of their performance. He says, 'We feel like the other groups who call us 'sunbaenim' (an honorific for respected senior). We enjoy the stage, just like the minds of rookies.' Hyungwon jokes, '[I have the] same feeling [as I did in] 2015 and 2016, but with better faces.' One thing has changed from their last experience as a group in the U.S. – the reaction from fans when they see a K-pop group: barking. Shownu and Hyungwon experienced this as a unit at their last KCON, which Hyungwon vaguely remembered but didn't understand the purpose. The rest of the members' faces were left blank and confused at the mention of barking. They had never heard of it or were unaware that it was a practice American fans engaged in. 'Barking?' Joohoney asks. 'I don't think so. Why do they bark? Is every group the same?' As I began to explain this American cultural phenomenon, they all 'ahhh'-ed in unison – and, surprisingly, in tune – with the realization of what it meant. They laughed and began barking. 'We are [definitely] ready,' Shownu laughs. Sometime after their M Countdown performance, Joohoney shared his thoughts on the fans' barking, seemingly enjoying it. He says, "The barking is so fun. We loved it."

Rice Cakes Can Do Anything
Rice Cakes Can Do Anything

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is a senior reporter at covering restaurant trends, home cooking advice, and all the food you can't escape on your TikTok FYP. Previously, she worked for Bon Appétit and VICE's Munchies. In 2023, the Los Angeles izakaya Budonoki, then just a few weeks old, decided to 'dress up' as a different kind of restaurant for Halloween. For one night, the Japanese restaurant transformed into an Italian trattoria with Negroni slushes, arancini, and checkered tablecloths. Someone on staff offered the pun 'Budo-gnocchi,' recalls co-owner Eric Bedroussian. 'We were like, wait, that's actually really good.' Nobody in the kitchen had expertise in making pasta and no one had much interest in making gnocchi from scratch, so the team reached for something more convenient: Korean rice cakes, also known as tteok. Like gnocchi, rice cakes offer a bouncy chew, especially the long cylindrical rice cakes that the restaurant uses. (Tteok can also be found in flatter rounds that are sliced on the diagonal.) The team steamed the rice cakes to soften them, then seared them to create a crisp outer layer. Sauteed mushrooms, a dashi-butter pan sauce, and Parmigiano-Reggiano rounded out the pasta-like vibe. The Budo-gnocchi was 'so incredibly well-received,' Bedroussian says, that it had to become a part of the permanent menu. It hit the notes the restaurant was going for with every other dish. 'It's comforting and it fills you up if you've been drinking a lot,' he says. Once a happy accident, Budo-gnocchi has since become a signature dish at the restaurant, which was named an Eater Best New Restaurant in 2024. The dish has since evolved into a loose template, changing with the whims of the kitchen. The restaurant might upgrade it by finishing with black truffle shavings, or bringing in corn and tomatoes in the summer. 'It can be whatever we want it to be,' Bedroussian says. As Korean cuisine gains popularity across the United States, rice cakes — a popular street food — have established themselves as a promising ingredient for chefs cooking both inside and outside Korean cuisine. While you'll find them cast as other types of noodles (Sunny Lee's baked ziti-like rice cakes at New York City's Sunn's, for example, or chef Beverly Kim's tteokbokki pad Thai at Chicago's Parachute HiFi), chefs especially like the way their playful, chewy texture makes them a natural substitute for gnocchi. This idea isn't entirely novel; in a 2006 New York Times review of New York's Momofuku Ssäm Bar, Pete Wells recommended the rice cakes topped with Sichuan pork ragu and whipped tofu as 'dead ringers for gnocchi.' Chefs in Korea have been working on a similar culinary track for a little while now too. Traditionally, restaurants and street stalls generally use tteok to make tteokbokki, in which the rice cakes are simmered in sauce that's slightly sweet, spicy, and fiery red from gochujang. In recent years, they've been riffing with rosé tteokbokki, which adds cream to the typical tteokbokki base, inspired by both the Italian rosé sauce and Korean-style carbonara. 'Italian food in general has become more popular in Korea,' says bar owner and forthcoming cookbook author Irene Yoo. Given that Korean-style carbonara is made with cream and served with ham or peas, breaking from Italian tradition, rosé tteokbokki is 'an interpretation of another interpretation,' she says. The rice cakes at Sunn's are topped with mozzarella cheese. Jutharat Pinyodoonyachet/Eater NY Across the U.S., rice cakes have recently transcended pasta dishes altogether. 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Mexican Asian Fusion Is One of North America's Signature Cuisines
Mexican Asian Fusion Is One of North America's Signature Cuisines

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Mexican Asian Fusion Is One of North America's Signature Cuisines

In early 2009 in Los Angeles, there was no food experience more exciting than Roy Choi's Kogi truck. You'd wait in a long line in a dimly lit parking lot with a menagerie of trendy people, some of them drawn by the truck's latest Twitter post or Jonathan Gold's review in LA Weekly, others stumbling out of a nearby bar. Then you'd order too many tacos and stand next to your car to eat, perching your sagging paper trays of Korean Mexican fusion on the trunk. The truck felt new and surprising, and the big flavors demanded attention. The cheese oozing out the sides of the kimchi quesadilla rounded out the fermentation, while the salsa roja on top amplified the gochugaru. The blend of Korean and Mexican chiles in the salsa coaxed complementary flavors out of the punchy marinade on the kalbi. Funky one-off specials, like pork belly tteokbokki or the Kogi Hogi torta, constantly introduced new combinations. Leaning on the strengths of Mexican and Korean cuisines, Kogi probably would have worked if the food was only a novelty. But it also tasted definitively of Los Angeles. Choi (and his partner, Philippines-born, California-raised chef Mark Manguera) put many facets of his life into Kogi, including his training in fine dining, his rebellious spirit, and his Korean heritage, but most of all his experience growing up in LA, where Koreatown abuts several predominantly Mexican American neighborhoods. Choi's cooking prioritized innovation, but it still smacked of home. 'I think it became a voice for a certain part of Los Angeles and a certain part of immigration and a certain part of life that wasn't really out there in the universe. We all knew it, and we all grew up with it, and it was all around us, but the taco kind of pulled it together,' Choi told Terry Gross in a 2013 interview on Fresh Air. 'It was like a lint roller. It just kind of put everything onto one thing. And then when you ate it, it all of a sudden made sense, you know?' Kogi, parked in Venice, California, in 2010. Ted Soqui / Corbis / Getty Images Choi tapped into culinary histories that run deep in the American Southwest and California, where immigrants coming north from Mexico built lives alongside immigrants crossing the Pacific from Asia. (Kogi wasn't the first in the U.S. to serve food at this cultural intersection; spots like Avatar's, which has been serving Punjabi burritos in the Bay Area since 1989, are notable precursors.) But the truck marked a turning point for Mexican Asian fusion as an enduring cultural passion among interconnected communities. Over the last 16 years, Korean Mexican fusion has spread all over the country; in Portland, Oregon, and Austin, Texas, bulgogi burritos now seem as natural as coffee and chili, respectively. A legion of chefs have also popularized all kinds of Asian Mexican fusion, serving birria ramen, halal carne asada, and furikake esquites. Years before the term 'chaos cooking' entered the conversation, these restaurants created cuisine that was fun and different, blending foods from distinct cultures in ways that make emotional sense, even when they sound far out on paper. And chefs keep finding new ways to capture how Mexican and Asian foods crisscross in the U.S. and in diners' hearts. Asian immigrants have been forming communities in Mexico, from the La Chinesca neighborhood of Mexicali to Mexico City's Pequeño Seúl, for decades or in some cases centuries. Chefs in these areas naturally adapted their cuisines to local ingredients and dishes; in the process, they started unpacking some of the natural affinities across cuisines that would grease the wheels of fusion projects well into the future. To Cesar Hernandez, associate restaurant critic at the San Francisco Chronicle and a street food aficionado, it makes sense that items like tacos and burritos became go-to formats for fusion cooking over the years. 'They truly are blank canvases for whatever. They play well with other flavors,' he says. Hernandez also points to the common ingredients that unite Asian and Mexican cuisines. 'A lot of these cuisines love citrus. A lot of these cuisines love chiles. And when you can coax those flavors out with the other cuisines, that's when it really works.' For Rhea Patel Michel of Mexican Indian fusion restaurant Saucy Chick in Pasadena, California, the connection between these foodways is elemental. Her background is Gujarati Indian, and her husband Marcel Rene Michel is Mexican American. In combining their cuisines, they found a natural synergy in ingredients like cumin, citrus, rice, and legumes, but they also discovered a connectivity of spirit. 'It's generous, it's vibrant, it's dynamic, and we were really energized by what it could look like,' to bring their food together, Patel Michel says. The Picoso Roll at the Sushi-lito food truck in Tucson. Nick Oza/Eater When chefs in historic Asian communities in Mexico couldn't get access to ingredients from back home, they often developed fusion dishes out of necessity. But the clearest progenitor for many contemporary projects might be Sinaloan sushi, created in Culiacán, Mexico, not out of necessity but creative conversation within the restaurant community. Japanese immigrants to the area, in Mexico's Sinaloa state, started opening sushi restaurants around the late 1980s, often hiring Mexican chefs. But it wasn't until those chefs left to open their own spots, bringing their own ideas and style to sushi — and building on recent sushi inventions from the north, like the California roll — that the genre really developed its modern personality. One foundational operation, Sushi-Lo, brought sushi out to the streets in a cart, and introduced the modern classic, deep-fried mar y tierra (surf and turf) roll filled with carne asada and shrimp. Today, Sinaloan spots both in Mexico and the U.S., like Culichi Town, tend towards extravagance, incorporating aguachile, plantain, beans, melted cheese, jalapeños, or Hot Cheeto dust. And the cuisine only went further when it jumped from Sinaloa to neighboring Sonoroa, edging its way toward the U.S. 'Sonoran-style specialists are more like sushi bars attached to a Wingstop,' writes Bill Esparza, 'with menus touting fried chicken wings and fried potatoes covered in melted cheese alongside the calorie-rich sushi.' Alongside Culichi Town — which has 12 locations in the U.S., including in Dallas and Las Vegas — Sonoran sushi can be found all over the American West, but it especially thrives in Tucson, alongside terroir-defying, cross-cultural icons like the bacon-wrapped Sonoran dog. Unlike contemporary fusion restaurants of the '80s and '90s that became reviled for carelessly throwing together half-assed hybrid dishes and wearing culture as costume, the impetus for Sinaloan and Sonoran sushi wasn't colonial. Even as chefs tended toward monchoso, a sort of thrilling overindulgence, their fusion remained rooted in mutual respect and open collaboration. Neither culture was being absorbed or assimilated, trod on or lifted over the other. 'Mexican food is not fucking precious,' Hernandez says. 'People in Mexico are the first to break the rules. It's part of the tradition.' Roy Choi at work at his latest project, Taco Por Vida, in 2024. Rebecca Roland/Eater That spirit has persisted in Kogi and the projects that followed, even as restaurants spread beyond the Southwest, more Asian cuisines entered the conversation, and chefs developed all kinds of fusion. Almost immediately following Choi's success, chef Bo Kwon created Koi Fusion in Portland, Oregon, in 2009, bringing Pacific Northwest style, a lighter touch on sauces, and an eye for local vegetables to the cuisine. In 2010, Señor Sisig launched as a Filipino Mexican food truck with sisig burritos and tacos, citing Kogi as major inspiration. That same year, the Korilla food truck in New York pushed rice bowls alongside tacos and burritos, drawing winding lines and mostly stellar reviews. Along the way through the many mid-2010s pivots at Mission Cantina in New York, chef Danny Bowien served Mexican kimchi, avocado sashimi, and a Chinese burrito special featuring mapo tofu or kung pao pastrami. More recently, Taqueria Azteca in New York rolled out phở birria, Phở Vy in Oakland, California, unveiled bò kho quesabirria tacos, and Baysian in nearby San Leandro whipped up Filipino queso-adobo. Back in LA, Holy Basil offers Thai-style prawn aguachile, while New York-born Baar Baar serves birria-influenced tacos with Kashmiri duck and tostadas with tuna bhel. Hernandez is especially excited about chef Sincere Justice's Tacos Sincero pop-up, born in Oakland in 2022. The chef draws on his experience growing up in LA's San Gabriel Valley (which has large Mexican and Asian American populations) to create eclectic dishes like a konbini-style egg salad tostada, calamansi tinga, and a saag burrito. '[Justice is] a real student of 'I want to try different shit and present it in these formats,' using tortillas and tostadas,' Hernandez says. 'He and a couple other folks are keeping that [multicultural cooking] alive.' All of it is constantly evolving, even within individual restaurants. At Saucy Chick, the Michels are always creating new dishes, like birria de chivo that incorporates masala spices, halal carne asada marinated in amchur and coriander, and esquites amped up with fenugreek and turmeric. Along the way, something surprising has happened during all this R and D. '[I've been] digging deep with my mom and my dad, [asking,] 'How do we make this dal?' or 'How do we make aloo?'' Rhea says. 'I've found myself getting even closer to my culture.' 'Kogi came at that right moment,' Choi told Mashed in 2020. In the midst of the Great Recession, the truck offered accessible, boundary-pushing cooking. 'People couldn't afford to go out all the time. People were struggling, lost their jobs, looking for what their next meal could be. And then this funny little beat-up truck came along, serving this delicious little taco.' The team's creativity and hustle helped them nail the tenor of the early social media era. During Twitter's ascendance, the Kogi team tweeted their locations and specials in real time as the truck rolled around town, drawing mobs of fans wherever they went. 'It felt like a scavenger hunt when we needed some sort of positive direction,' Choi told Mashed. Online appeal has remained an important piece of Mexican Asian fusion, clear in dishes like birria ramen (or 'birriamen'). Generally said to have been invented by chef Antonio de Livier at the Mexico City restaurant Animo, birriamen builds on the internet popularity of the Tijuana-style stewed beef dish. It might be made with instant noodles or higher-grade stuff, ramen broth or consomé, stuffed into tacos or piled onto vampiros — but in almost every case, it's big and bold and attention-grabbing, making it ideal for social media feeds. Aguachile at Holy Basil in LA Wonho Frank Lee/Eater But in other ways, Mexican Asian fusion no longer resembles Kogi's scrappy street food operation, especially when it starts climbing into fine dining territory. At Michelin-starred Los Félix in Miami, the tétela is filled with Japanese sweet potato, the esquites get a hit of basil furikake, there's miso-grilled corn with fish, and corn dumplings come with scallions and trout roe. Anajak Thai Cuisine's Thai Taco Tuesday, a pandemic-born lark, grew into a signature experience; dishes like a carnitas taco and a sashimi-style yellowtail tostada with nam jim-salsa negra marisquera topped with papaya salad powered the restaurant to national acclaim. Today, fusion dishes show up at restaurants that are nominally neither Mexican nor Asian. Birria dumplings appear on the ever-changing menu at San Francisco icon State Bird Provisions, while Chicago restaurant Mfk serves suzuki crudo on a tostada with both guacamole and sambal. This cuisine is everywhere now. It's not uncommon to see culinary combinations at an airport, the Taco Bell Test Kitchen, or floating up beneath the gaze of social media's Eye of Sauron. It has been in the mainstream for more than 20 years, practically forever in the modern food era, fully engrained into the way we eat. Alongside other types of third-culture cooking, Mexican Asian cuisine has largely shed the stigma that fusion picked up in the '90s. Chefs once chafed if their food was labeled fusion. Now, the pendulum has largely swung back. For Hernandez, it's a generational thing; the old distaste has fallen by the wayside as new chefs and new diners have come into maturity. 'Fusion' is just a convenient shorthand for what so many are doing: transforming culinary building blocks, wherever they come from, to create something new — and awesome — from the parts. Hernandez brings it back to a conversation with Justice of Tacos Sincero. As much as the chef's food reflects his upbringing, the specific labels just aren't important anymore. 'Whatever people want to call it, it doesn't matter,' Hernandez says. 'It just has to bang.'

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