Eating L.A. Before it Eats Itself: L.A’s Grand Central Market is rapidly tainting its legacy

In the midst of a dinner rush at Grand Central Market, secluded from the main arteries of the food hall gushing with people, I’m sitting perched on a barstool, staring at a wall of bagged tostadas. In front of me is a plate piled high with fresh shrimp ceviche, speckled with crisp cucumber and cilantro. A single bite and the sounds of the market are drowned out with the crunch of tostada, complementing the bright ceviche with the subtle flavors of toasted corn and oil. 

La Tostaderia was one of my favorite restaurants in Grand Central Market. Despite its high prices, I liked the staff, and the tostadas were —

“Hey, have you ever heard of Yerba Mate?”

I stop, mid-chew, to stare up at the bearded 20-something leaning against the bar next to me.

“What?” I ask. Does he not register my headphones? The book in my hand? The fact that I am sitting alone?

“Have you ever heard of Yerba Mate?”

“Well, yeah.”

“It’s way healthier than that stuff.” He gestures to the can of Monster Energy beside my plate of ceviche. 

“Oh, yeah, energy drinks are kind of a vice of mine.”

“Well Yerba Mate’s got a lot of caffeine in it, but it’s all natural. Tastes good too.”

“Oh, OK.” Who was this guy? Was he a Yerba Mate salesperson? Why was he telling me what to drink?

“Yeah. I work at Belcampo, I just had to come over and tell you.”

“Thanks.”

“Would you maybe wanna go out sometime?”

I think the best way to describe Grand Central Market as it currently stands is by the Belcampo Meat Co. employee who tried to shame me into dating him.

Grand Central Market encapsulates everything good and bad about current restaurant trends in Los Angeles. Most of the food is expertly-crafted, varied and fresh, albeit at a high price point. There’s obvious respect for the city’s history, but there’s also an ambition to break into a new audience and to start new fads. And, in the pursuit of creating something new, Grand Central Market has erased something old.

The market is a surviving relic from more than a century ago, weathering the drastic changes Downtown Los Angeles has seen. When it was first established, it catered to the elite higher class living in the city, functioning as a traditional market for those who could afford fresh meat and produce. As the rich left downtown in the coming decades, Grand Central Market became a primarily Latinx shopping center, selling imported produce and spices from Mexico. To this day, Latinx influence permeates throughout the food hall — vendors like Tacos a Tumbras, Chiles Secos and Valeria’s Chiles and Spices have been around for decades. 

In the early 2010s, Grand Central Market underwent a series of transformations, introducing new vendors to revitalize the struggling dining center. Over the next few years, the market became a pioneering food hall and quintessential tourist destination. Vendors like Eggslut and Sari Sari Store have garnered critical acclaim, while restaurants like the vegan Ramen Hood or nostalgia-centered PBJ.LA have tapped into new markets within the city. The entire market smells of a hundred different things at once — grilling meat, cooking garlic, waffle cones, fresh masa. The narrow hallways between stalls are constantly filled with eager-eyed visitors overwhelmed by neon signs and the sheer spectacle of it all. 

While the owners of Grand Central Market claim that the new business draws in all types of people, it is clear that these new customers are mostly white, well-off or tourists. Legacy vendors are overlooked in light of newer, more popular stalls, and the sweeping hand of gentrification across downtown has displaced many of their regulars. The historical Grand Central Market is quickly being forgotten.  

In a way, Grand Central Market serves as a microscopic view of the changing landscape across East and Downtown Los Angeles, as richer, whiter populations push out Latinx communities and attract new businesses. It demonstrates the excellent culinary progress this city has made but also showcases the ugliness such an expansion brings with it. 

Ironically, Grand Central Market has completed a full circle, catering to the rich yet again. And despite the undoubted impact it has made on L.A.’s food culture in recent years, I can’t help but feel torn eating there. 

Also, who the hell thinks that insulting someone’s taste is going to make them want to date you?

I gave him my number but never texted him back.

Christina Tiber is a senior writing about food. Her column, “Eating L.A. Before It Eats Itself,” runs every other Thursday.