Latest news with #Ghazaly
Los Angeles Times
08-05-2025
- General
- Los Angeles Times
Kurrypinch's Griddled Coconut Roti
In Sri Lanka, this everyday quick bread is usually laced with thinly sliced curry leaves, fresh green chiles and red onions, but Ghazaly's milder, kid-friendly version drops the chile from the mix. Enjoy this roti alongside the Coconut Chickpea Curry, or with spicy onion sambal, coconut sambal and/or dal (lentil) curry for an authentic Sri Lankan experience. Or, do as Ghazaly's son does, and simply slather the warm roti with butter and eat as-is. Note: Find frozen grated coconut at many Asian markets.
Los Angeles Times
08-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Where to find Sri Lankan food in L.A.? Inside the kitchen bringing string hoppers to East Hollywood
There's no shortage of delicious things to eat in East Hollywood: herbaceous lamb kebabs at Saffy's; garlicky prawns at Kuya Lord; the entire spicy-sweet-salty pantheon of Thai Town. But until recently, there was nowhere to try kottu roti, lamprais or string hoppers. That is, until Kurrypinch came along. Located in the former home of a vegan pizza joint on Hollywood Boulevard, Kurrypinch is one of just a handful of Sri Lankan restaurants scattered across the Southland and the only one in Central L.A. (Most of the others are in the Valley, and there's an outlier in Westwood.) Chef-owner Shaheen Ghazaly has big plans to introduce the cuisine — and his own personalized take on it — to as many Angelenos as possible. But first, he's trying to define his version of the rich, spicy Sri Lankan food that bears some resemblance to its South Indian neighbors but is very much its own thing. 'I'm still trying to figure that out myself,' he says. Ghazaly walks me through the vast lineup of herbs and spices in his open kitchen: finely chopped ginger and garlic, mustard seeds ('Those three ingredients go into basically every dish,' he notes), chile flakes, paprika, turmeric, fried curry leaves, two different types of his own custom curry powders. There are tubs of brick-hued chile sauce and garlic oil, both made in-house, and a sheet tray overflowing with burnished tangles of fried onions, awaiting their role as garnish. Coconut is everywhere too, in fresh, shredded and milk form; Ghazaly uses it as the base for many of his curries. (Rice and curry, he explains, is a staple of Sri Lankan cuisine: 'Without it, we are nothing,' he says solemnly.) An entire subgenre of 'deviled' dishes is heavily spiced with chile and garlic, and fried snacks like fish fritters and spiced chickpeas make great drinking food. And, of course, hoppers (rice flour pancakes), string hoppers (rice noodles) and rotis underpin many meals — the latter two Ghazaly cooks on the griddle, spatulas clanging in a rhythmic blur. Ghazaly makes his own curry blends and chile oil; eschews the use of soy sauce, black pepper and MSG; and doesn't use any dairy as a thickener. All of his produce is fresh, including curry leaves gifted from a customer's tree. 'This is how I grew up cooking,' he says. With a majority Sinhalese population that's mostly Buddhist, a smaller Tamil contingent who are primarily Hindu and a smattering of Muslims and Christians too, it's impossible to neatly define the cuisine of the island nation — which also bears the influence of Dutch, Portuguese and British colonialists. But if there's a throughline, it's that most Sri Lankan food is boldly, brightly flavored with a riot of contrasting tastes and textures that makes it nothing short of thrilling to eat. The L.A. metropolitan area has the second-largest Sri Lankan population in the country (behind New York) with an estimated 7,000 people, many concentrated in the San Fernando Valley near Reseda and Tarzana. In 1952, the Immigration and Nationality Act repealed certain measures aimed at excluding Asian immigrants, and the following year the first Sri Lankan immigrant to the U.S. under said act, 19-year-old Rajah Rutnam, arrived in L.A. Rutnam's brother, Jayam, the co-founder of the Sri Lanka America Assn. of Southern California says that chain migration and later a lottery system encouraged more Sri Lankans — often fluent in English due to the British schooling system — to arrive in subsequent decades. 'In the '60s, ours was one of the few families here, and the only reason we came was to visit my brother,' Rutnam says. 'But we got here and we immediately liked everything about California.' It's worth noting that Rajah Rutnam, who died in 2010, founded the first Sri Lankan restaurant in California, dubbed Rajah's Elephant Walk, in Hollywood. Ghazaly, 49, took a slightly different path. Born in Karachi, Pakistan, he moved to Sri Lanka at 8. As a child, Ghazaly took an active interest in the kitchen, and his single father encouraged his son to become familiar with different spices and ingredients. 'I've had this talent since I was very young where I can taste something, recognize its ingredients and mimic it,' he says. As a young adult, he joined his father's merchant shipping line and spent a dozen years crisscrossing the globe on cargo carriers, docking across Asia, Africa and Europe, exploring the local cuisines in each port. He moved to Los Angeles in 2006 to pursue a career in IT, while spending his off-hours cooking elaborate Sri Lankan dishes to woo the family of his now-wife, a childhood friend who had immigrated a few years before. Friends and family who tasted Ghazaly's home cooking encouraged him to go pro, and in 2018, he opened a small storefront in Van Nuys, doing a brisk takeout business. Sri Lankans from across Los Angeles county sought him out, and in 2022, he moved his operation, dubbed Kurrypinch, to a larger location in Tarzana, just down the street from longstanding Sri Lankan destination Apey Kade. With COVID-19's impact on businesses and a landlord considering demolishing the building, Ghazaly closed the Tarzana location in February of last year. He considered taking a break from restaurants entirely, but when one of his former customers, Dr. Nimesh Rajakumar, offered to invest in a space in East Hollywood, Ghazaly knew it was an opportunity too good to pass up. The new Kurrypinch, designed by Jennifer Nielsen, trades the strip-mall coziness of some other Sri Lankan spots in exchange for a more modern, streamlined aesthetic, with cool concrete floors and rustic flourishes throughout. There are 26 seats, including a six-seat chef's counter with a partial view of the kitchen, where Ghazaly holds court, experimenting with new dishes for the most adventurous diners. The menu is a mixture of more traditional 'Sri Lankan Signatures' — like kottu roti (chopped roti stir-fried with an aromatic blend of eggs, meat and vegetables) or string hopper (served in pilau form with curry leaves and spices) — and the 'Chef's Signatures,' where Ghazaly's creativity shines, with what he describes as riffs inspired by global dishes — a coconut milk risotto with mahi-mahi inspired by shrimp and grits, or seared salmon atop a creamy curried kabocha squash puree. Ghazaly is attempting to strike a balance between satisfying the Sri Lankan customers who come in seeking the highly spiced flavors they grew up with, and the majority non-Sri Lankan guests who may be trying the cuisine for the first time. 'That's one of the reasons I didn't want to call it an 'authentic' Sri Lankan restaurant, because everything has a different kind of spice blend and a different way of cooking,' he explains. So far, however, feedback from all parties has been positive (even if the Sri Lankans sometimes ask for extra chilies or more gravy on the side). Kurrypinch opened at the end of February and is still fine-tuning operations. Ghazaly is currently focused on getting the restaurant open for lunch service and outdoor dining, and expanding his wine list with specific pairing options. It's all part of his overarching goal to introduce people to the complexities of his cuisine. 'Whenever people ask me, 'Hey, is Sri Lankan food like Indian food? Is it like Chinese food?' I say, sure, we're similar — but Sri Lankan is better,' he says, laughing.
Yahoo
11-04-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Commentary: Will tariffs threaten the diversity of L.A. menus? Spiking ingredient prices have chefs scrambling
'We are freaking out,' says Billie Sayavong. He and his wife, Nokmaniphone, operate Nok's Kitchen, one of the few restaurants in Southern California devoted to cuisine from Laos. The Westminster restaurant has been featured repeatedly on this paper's 101 Best Restaurants List. In just the last week, shortly after President Trump announced new tariffs, Billie watched the restaurant's meat and seafood invoice increase by 30%. Nok's Kitchen relies heavily on goods imported from all over Southeast Asia to make its signature grilled sausages, fiery larb and crispy rice salad. Even with the president's 90-day pause on tariffs, the Sayavongs are no more confident in their ability to continue to operate the restaurant in an unsteady economic climate. 'There is a lot of back-and-forth and the president will make a decision and switch, and our vendors are not taking chances,' he says. 'They are automatically increasing prices right away.' It's a reality faced by restaurant owners across the city, who continue to struggle with the aftermath of the writers' strike and the recent fire disasters. Dozens of businesses have already closed since the start of the year, with more closures announced in recent weeks. Tariffs are affecting restaurants serving cuisines that rely on goods from countries with the highest tariffs set, including South and Southeast Asia, where the proposed hikes range from 17% to 49%. But the tariffs aren't just putting these businesses in jeopardy. They're threatening the diversity of the culinary landscape of Southern California, and the very heart of what makes Los Angeles one of the greatest dining cities in the world. The taxes are part of President Trump's America First trade policy, meant to 'benefit American workers manufacturers, farmers, ranchers, entrepreneurs, and businesses.' The greatest restaurants in America, and a large percentage of the most successful restaurants in Los Angeles, were built on the diversity of our immigrant communities. About one in 10 restaurants in the country serves Mexican food and 12% of all restaurants in America serve Asian food, with the majority being Chinese, Japanese or Thai. Read more: These are the 101 best restaurants in Los Angeles So what does 'America First' mean when applied to the restaurant industry? What cuisines are considered American and who gets to decide? 'I just want the trade war to be over so we can survive,' says Shaheen Ghazaly. The chef and owner of Kurrypinch in Los Feliz has been in a perpetual state of uncertainty since the new tariffs were announced. His restaurant relies heavily on ingredients from Sri Lanka, a country with a proposed 44% tariff. Sri Lankan cinnamon sticks are used in at least 80% of the dishes on the menu. It's what gives Ghazaly's seeni sambol, the caramelized onion relish, a distinct, subtle, almost citrusy cinnamon flavor. During the second week of April, shortly after the tariffs were announced, Ghazaly saw the cost of his weekly grocery order jump from $1,800 to $2,600. The price for two pounds of Sri Lankan cinnamon rose from $37 to $49. Cardamon and clove, two other ingredients crucial to the spice mixes for his curries, were more expensive. The four cases of coconut milk he goes through each week from Thailand, a country with a proposed 36% tariff, rose from $28 a case to $42. The tomatoes he buys from Mexico went from $15 to $29 per 25 pounds. 'This is really going to hurt us," says Ghazaly. "In the restaurant world, the margins are already very thin. And I'm pretty sure people will be hesitant to come in if I have to increase $5 to $6 per dish.' The thought of losing one of the city's few Sri Lankan restaurants is unsettling, as is having to experience the food through a more Americanized lens. Restaurant owners and chefs now are faced with a new dilemma: Pass the increased cost of goods onto diners with higher prices, or cut costs by reworking recipes and substituting with cheaper ingredients. For many of these restaurants, there isn't a cheaper, local alternative. Read more: 'It's going to hurt a lot.' How L.A.'s importers are navigating Trump's shifting tariffs 'Making substitutions or making certain ingredients ourselves is not an option,' Billie says. 'Our tamarind sauce we make using a certain fermented fish from Thailand. We don't have the bandwidth to go fish and let it ferment for years. There might be alternatives, but it's not the same. We have a consistent menu, and one little change can change the entire dish.' It's a sentiment shared by Southern California restaurants that rely on ingredients from the Asian countries set to face some of the highest tariffs. Changing ingredients threatens the integrity of the entirety of the restaurant and its signature dishes, many stemming from family recipes that have been developed over decades. Thai Nakorn restaurant in Stanton relies on a specific coconut cream from Thailand to make its curries, as well as Thai Jasmine rice and a long list of herbs. There's a unique Thai crab fat, fermented Thai crabs and Thai shrimp paste in the crab papaya salad. 'We have done this for over 40 years,' says Linda Sreewarom, whose aunt opened the original Thai Nakorn in Orange County in 1984. 'To change the recipes completely and try to find different brands of all these things made in the U.S. is impossible.' Facing a 125% tariff on goods from China, Bistro Na's team in Temple City is having to reevaluate nearly every dish on its menu. The restaurant specializes in Beijing cuisine, with ingredients imported by local suppliers from all over China. There's the hawthorn used to lacquer the signature crispy shrimp in a sweet glaze, the sea cucumber and abalone, Jinhua ham, 10-year-aged Xinhui tangerine peel, black fungus and a variety of spices. 'We are indeed exploring options to replace certain imported ingredients with those more readily available from suppliers. However, some ingredients are essential to preserving the authentic flavors of our dishes and cannot be substituted,' says Carol Lin, general manager at the restaurant. 'Our costs have already gone up and it's become more difficult to operate the business.' The kitchen is in the process of developing dishes that use more locally grown, organic produce such as the new deep-fried eggplant with pine nuts, garlic and sesame. But the dish's addictive, hot and sweet balance comes from a mixture of dried chili pepper from Mexico and hawthorn from China. Uyên Lê, chef and owner of Bé Ù, a small, takeout-only Vietnamese restaurant in Echo Park, has spent the last week attempting to balance the cost of the perishable items she needs now with the nonperishable goods she might be able to stock up on before any anticipated price increase or shortage. In mid-March, after four years in business, Lê made the difficult decision to increase menu prices due to a host of factors putting a strain on the financial health of the business, including rent, supplies, staffing, insurance and maintenance and replacement for equipment. The restaurant also provides 30 to 80 meals a day to unhoused neighbors in the community. 'I just raised my prices before these tariffs so I'm in a holding pattern to figure out how much of my products are going to go up,' she says. 'For a lot of small businesses, we end up just eating a lot of the cost. I'm kind of a brand-specific person because there is a lot out there, and over time I've curated brands that I like and that I feel are consistent with my food.' Lê's inventory comes from a mix of online vendors and what she buys directly from Vietnamese markets in Los Angeles and Orange County. During the height of the pandemic, Lê put around 150 miles a day on her car, driving around to find the lowest price on goods for the restaurant. Then there's the issue of sustainability. Buying American, or even locally, may not always be the most sustainable option. Depending on the product, how something is produced can have more of an environmental impact than how far it travels. It's a concept Lê', who in a former life lobbied for support of green initiatives and green jobs for an electricians union, is keenly aware of. 'For our perishables it's kind of weird, because to a certain extent you're trying to be environmentally conscious,' she says. 'I prefer to buy California avocados because of the shorter time it takes to get to me and I'm supporting local farmers. But they use so much more water to grow avocados in California than they do in Mexico, where it's an avocado-growing region.' Sourcing peppercorns exclusively from the Kampot region of Cambodia helps make Sophy's Cambodia Town a culinary destination in Long Beach. Owner Sophy Khut marinates slabs of beef jerky in a garlicky sauce heavy with the peppercorns, prized for their singular strength and aroma. It's a dish worth traveling for, and one that's helped keep the restaurant in business for the past two decades. Khut's cost to purchase the peppercorns is $18 per pound, not including shipping or taxes. 'It's really hitting me,' she says. 'I'm worrying a lot and I feel like I'm having an anxiety attack.' Like all the restaurateurs I spoke with, Khut says she'll exhaust every available resource before raising prices, even by a fraction. But altering ingredients like her prized Kampot peppercorns, will never be an option. I can think of hundreds of similar examples, dishes and entire immigrant cuisines dependent on ingredients not readily available in the United States or too costly to produce locally. With the threat of tariffs still looming, and restaurants and diners already feeling the squeeze, we should all be asking ourselves the same question. Without immigrant food culture, what is American food? Sign up for our Tasting Notes newsletter for restaurant reviews, Los Angeles food-related news and more. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
11-04-2025
- Business
- Los Angeles Times
Will tariffs threaten the diversity of L.A. menus? Spiking ingredient prices spiking have chefs scrambling
'We are freaking out,' says Billie Sayavong. He and his wife, Nokmaniphone, operate Nok's Kitchen, one of the few restaurants in Southern California devoted to cuisine from Laos. The Westminster restaurant has been featured repeatedly on this paper's 101 Best Restaurants List. In just the last week, shortly after President Trump announced new tariffs, Billie watched the restaurant's meat and seafood invoice increase by 30%. Nok's Kitchen relies heavily on goods imported from all over Southeast Asia to make its signature grilled sausages, fiery larb and crispy rice salad. Even with the president's 90-day pause on tariffs, the Sayavongs are no more confident in their ability to continue to operate the restaurant in an unsteady economic climate. 'There is a lot of back-and-forth and the president will make a decision and switch, and our vendors are not taking chances,' he says. 'They are automatically increasing prices right away.' It's a reality faced by restaurant owners across the city, who continue to struggle with the aftermath of the writers' strike and the recent fire disasters. Dozens of businesses have already closed since the start of the year, with more closures announced in recent weeks. Tariffs are affecting restaurants serving cuisines that rely on goods from countries with the highest tariffs set, including South and Southeast Asia, where the proposed hikes range from 17% to 49%. But the tariffs aren't just putting these businesses in jeopardy. They're threatening the diversity of the culinary landscape of Southern California, and the very heart of what makes Los Angeles one of the greatest dining cities in the world. The taxes are part of President Trump's America First trade policy, meant to 'benefit American workers manufacturers, farmers, ranchers, entrepreneurs, and businesses.' The greatest restaurants in America, and a large percentage of the most successful restaurants in Los Angeles, were built on the diversity of our immigrant communities. About one in 10 restaurants in the country serves Mexican food and 12% of all restaurants in America serve Asian food, with the majority being Chinese, Japanese or Thai. So what does 'America First' mean when applied to the restaurant industry? What cuisines are considered American and who gets to decide? 'I just want the trade war to be over so we can survive,' says Shaheen Ghazaly. The chef and owner of Kurrypinch in Los Feliz has been in a perpetual state of uncertainty since the new tariffs were announced. His restaurant relies heavily on ingredients from Sri Lanka, a country with a proposed 44% tariff. Sri Lankan cinnamon sticks are used in at least 80% of the dishes on the menu. It's what gives Ghazaly's seeni sambol, the caramelized onion relish, a distinct, subtle, almost citrusy cinnamon flavor. During the second week of April, shortly after the tariffs were announced, Ghazaly saw the cost of his weekly grocery order jump from $1,800 to $2,600. The price for two pounds of Sri Lankan cinnamon rose from $37 to $49. Cardamon and clove, two other ingredients crucial to the spice mixes for his curries, were more expensive. The four cases of coconut milk he goes through each week from Thailand, a country with a proposed 36% tariff, rose from $28 a case to $42. The tomatoes he buys from Mexico went from $15 to $29 per 25 pounds. 'This is really going to hurt us,' says Ghazaly. 'In the restaurant world, the margins are already very thin. And I'm pretty sure people will be hesitant to come in if I have to increase $5 to $6 per dish.' The thought of losing one of the city's few Sri Lankan restaurants is unsettling, as is having to experience the food through a more Americanized lens. Restaurant owners and chefs now are faced with a new dilemma: Pass the increased cost of goods onto diners with higher prices, or cut costs by reworking recipes and substituting with cheaper ingredients. For many of these restaurants, there isn't a cheaper, local alternative. 'Making substitutions or making certain ingredients ourselves is not an option,' Billie says. 'Our tamarind sauce we make using a certain fermented fish from Thailand. We don't have the bandwidth to go fish and let it ferment for years. There might be alternatives, but it's not the same. We have a consistent menu, and one little change can change the entire dish.' It's a sentiment shared by Southern California restaurants that rely on ingredients from the Asian countries set to face some of the highest tariffs. Changing ingredients threatens the integrity of the entirety of the restaurant and its signature dishes, many stemming from family recipes that have been developed over decades. Thai Nakorn restaurant in Stanton relies on a specific coconut cream from Thailand to make its curries, as well as Thai Jasmine rice and a long list of herbs. There's a unique Thai crab fat, fermented Thai crabs and Thai shrimp paste in the crab papaya salad. 'We have done this for over 40 years,' says Linda Sreewarom, whose aunt opened the original Thai Nakorn in Orange County in 1984. 'To change the recipes completely and try to find different brands of all these things made in the U.S. is impossible.' Facing a 125% tariff on goods from China, Bistro Na's team in Temple City is having to reevaluate nearly every dish on its menu. The restaurant specializes in Beijing cuisine, with ingredients imported by local suppliers from all over China. There's the hawthorn used to lacquer the signature crispy shrimp in a sweet glaze, the sea cucumber and abalone, Jinhua ham, 10-year-aged Xinhui tangerine peel, black fungus and a variety of spices. 'We are indeed exploring options to replace certain imported ingredients with those more readily available from suppliers. However, some ingredients are essential to preserving the authentic flavors of our dishes and cannot be substituted,' says Carol Lin, general manager at the restaurant. 'Our costs have already gone up and it's become more difficult to operate the business.' The kitchen is in the process of developing dishes that use more locally grown, organic produce such as the new deep-fried eggplant with pine nuts, garlic and sesame. But the dish's addictive, hot and sweet balance comes from a mixture of dried chili pepper from Mexico and hawthorn from China. Uyên Lê, chef and owner of Bé Ù, a small, takeout-only Vietnamese restaurant in Echo Park, has spent the last week attempting to balance the cost of the perishable items she needs now with the nonperishable goods she might be able to stock up on before any anticipated price increase or shortage. In mid-March, after four years in business, Lê made the difficult decision to increase menu prices due to a host of factors putting a strain on the financial health of the business, including rent, supplies, staffing, insurance and maintenance and replacement for equipment. The restaurant also provides 30 to 80 meals a day to unhoused neighbors in the community. 'I just raised my prices before these tariffs so I'm in a holding pattern to figure out how much of my products are going to go up,' she says. 'For a lot of small businesses, we end up just eating a lot of the cost. I'm kind of a brand-specific person because there is a lot out there, and over time I've curated brands that I like and that I feel are consistent with my food.' Lê's inventory comes from a mix of online vendors and what she buys directly from Vietnamese markets in Los Angeles and Orange County. During the height of the pandemic, Lê put around 150 miles a day on her car, driving around to find the lowest price on goods for the restaurant. Then there's the issue of sustainability. Buying American, or even locally, may not always be the most sustainable option. Depending on the product, how something is produced can have more of an environmental impact than how far it travels. It's a concept Lê', who in a former life lobbied for support of green initiatives and green jobs for an electricians union, is keenly aware of. 'For our perishables it's kind of weird, because to a certain extent you're trying to be environmentally conscious,' she says. 'I prefer to buy California avocados because of the shorter time it takes to get to me and I'm supporting local farmers. But they use so much more water to grow avocados in California than they do in Mexico, where it's an avocado-growing region.' Sourcing peppercorns exclusively from the Kampot region of Cambodia helps make Sophy's Cambodia Town a culinary destination in Long Beach. Owner Sophy Khut marinates slabs of beef jerky in a garlicky sauce heavy with the peppercorns, prized for their singular strength and aroma. It's a dish worth traveling for, and one that's helped keep the restaurant in business for the past two decades. Khut's cost to purchase the peppercorns is $18 per pound, not including shipping or taxes. 'It's really hitting me,' she says. 'I'm worrying a lot and I feel like I'm having an anxiety attack.' Like all the restaurateurs I spoke with, Khut says she'll exhaust every available resource before raising prices, even by a fraction. But altering ingredients like her prized Kampot peppercorns, will never be an option. I can think of hundreds of similar examples, dishes and entire immigrant cuisines dependent on ingredients not readily available in the United States or too costly to produce locally. With the threat of tariffs still looming, and restaurants and diners already feeling the squeeze, we should all be asking ourselves the same question. Without immigrant food culture, what is American food?
