Eating L.A. Before It Eats Itself: All Flavor No Grease only cares about the food


Adriana Sanchez | Daily Trojan

On a sweltering Friday afternoon, people line up on 108th Street in Watts. The line comprises a kaleidoscope of races and nationalities, ranging from locals to tourists. The street buzzes with energy as the colorful All Flavor No Grease truck begins to waft the smell of seasoned meat throughout the neighborhood. Owner Keith Garrett hasn’t even opened yet, but people are already eager to get their hands on an All Flavor No Grease quesadilla.

The truck begins to take orders, doling out numbers with a rare friendliness. The menu is limited to three Mexican American staples: tacos, burritos and quesadillas. As opposed to a Mexican taco truck that would be bursting with differents cuts of pork and beef, the franchise also limits itself to three types of meat: chicken, beef and shrimp. Although the menu is limited, every item has been perfected to an All Flavor No Grease standard that makes it incomparable to that of more traditional taco trucks.

The most popular item, by far, is the quesadilla. Robust seasoned meat (if desired) is blanketed with ample amounts of blended cheese; the tortilla is toasted just enough to be crispy and smothered with white, green and red sauces. Served in a styrofoam box with a fork and knife, it looks more like lasagna than a quesadilla. But among the sharpness of the cheese, the richness of the meat and the tangy acidity of the pico de gallo, it is easily one of the best quesadillas in Los Angeles.

All Flavor No Grease is powered by Garrett, a lively personality who is equal parts playful and grateful. His Instagram is filled with pictures of dripping quesadillas, tacos and burritos, spotted with videos in which he gives advice. Despite a few hiccups along the way, All Flavor No Grease is a growing enterprise, with a two-truck expansion and frequent pop-ups in restaurants.

Garrett, or “Chef Ocho,” grew up on 108th Street. On many days, the truck is parked outside of his family’s own house. Neighbors will sit outside and enjoy the food, watching the passersby visiting the food truck. But it isn’t always placid — gang violence still shakes the neighborhood from time to time. One of All Flavor No Grease’s own employees, Travione Mason, was shot and killed in 2015 while working at a house party in South L.A. But occasional violence does not deter All Flavor No Grease — the truck optimistrically hopes to resolve differences through food.

All Flavor No Grease began as a small stand outside Garrett’s home. After months of selling candy and snacks, Garrett began to make tacos by a friend’s suggestion. From there, the enterprise grew into a massive front yard barbecue, serving signature dishes under a blue E-Z Up. It was much more lucrative than snacks and other goods, and for the most part, safer. To this day, All Flavor No Grease occasionally gets reprimanded for obstructing traffic on 108th Street, and has been shut down for its uncontrollable popularity. With food trucks, police interference is much less frequent, giving Chef Ocho some space to sell his quesadillas.

108th Street isn’t always peaceful, but the peace is growing. All Flavor No Grease has become a place of neutrality for South L.A. gangs, proving the powers of a flavorful quesadilla. The food truck continues to operate and illuminate Watts to crowds of people who would otherwise be uncomfortable in the area. But with a community as bright as Watts and a chef as happy as Garrett, it’s easy to drop preconceived notions about All Flavor No Grease and just enjoy the food.

Once in a while in Watts, two opposing groups of gang members will set aside their differences for a moment to order from the truck window of All Flavor No Grease. In that moment, the community is glued together by melted cheese and dripping sauces. Peace radiates from a styrofoam box, a tin foil wrapper, a plastic fork and knife. Food won’t fix everything, but for few minutes on a Friday afternoon, it feels like it might.

Christina Tiber is a junior majoring in psychology. Her column, “Eating L.A. Before It Eats Itself,” runs every other Thursday.