Bagels, Lox, and Kimchee: Bagels LA Style

On the weekends we drive to Noah's Bagels on Larchmont. The dearth of good bagels in this city could be an entire blog, but the nonexistent bagel shops in our neighborhood forces us to venture to Larchmont, a good fifteen minute drive (in the wee hours of Saturday morning) or a half hour drive (during the hours of 9-7 during the work week). We've been doing this for some time and we've noticed some peculiarities about this particular Noah's. This area, this street, is where money, class, and race collides in a way that is particular to Los Angeles.

Larchmont is adjacent to Hancock Park, an "old" neighborhood of stately homes. The reason for the quotation marks around the word "old" is to point out how relatively new this city is compared to the older Eastern cities. So, these "old" homes built in the 1920's is where the posh Angelenos lived, and continue to live. To the East, really East of Larchmont lies another area of the city, which could have been transplanted from a neighborhood in Seoul, South Korea. For a long time, Koreans stayed in their undeclared boundaries of Western to Vermont. But I've noticed in the last five years that more and more Koreans are leaving the safe haven of Koreatown and venturing Westward, much to the distress of residents of Hancock Park, although none would say as much to me. We, my family, secretly refer to Hancock Park as Hankook Park. The first Korean owned business to spring up on Larchmont, which is a street shorter than a New York City block, was Kiku Sushi. For most Larchmont devotees, they wouldn't have known it was Korean owned, but for me it was obvious.

As a Korean-American, I straddle an interesting fence between Koreans and the rest, but that's another blog altogether. So, this weekend, my husband, our son, and I went to Noah's. Inside, the tables were filled with people drinking coffee and noshing on their bagels. Nothing about this sight was all that extraordinary except 98 percent of the patronage were Koreans. As my husband said, it was easier to count the non-Koreans, numbering at five and a half-- himself and our son included,-- than it was to count the Koreans. Since when did Koreans eat so many bagels?

And this being LA, the Korean patrons behaved as if they were in a bagel shop in Seoul--I'm pretty certain none exist, but for those business savvy souls, open one up and quick--oblivious to the fact that they were, in fact, in Los Angeles. Our family, Korean,--although none would guess outrightly that I am one of their own--Black, and their blended child drew stares. And being Koreans, they stared directly, nothing discreet in their glances. I can usually keep my Korean status quiet if my son didn't always blurt out, "Mom, there are a lot of Koreans here!" See, he understands Korean, not like he knows what they're saying, but he understands that they are speaking Korean. So, there we were, eating Jewish bagels (although my Jewish friends would disagree that Noah's bagels qualifies as a bagel), served by the Latino counter person, seated amongst my "people," all huddled together talking in Korean with their Korean bibles next to them.