Undocumented workers power L.A.'s restaurants. Will the industry protect them?

Los Angeles Times

30-06-2025

Tucked into a Chinatown shopping plaza, the modern Filipino restaurant Lasita is typically bursting with energy. Orbs of yellow light wash over plates of juicy chicken inasal; longtime friends catch up over handpicked wines as music thumps in the background.
That all changed on the evening of Friday, June 6, when more than 10 Immigration and Customs Enforcement vans filled the parking lot across from the restaurant, leaving guests and staff 'spooked,' said co-owner Chase Valencia.
'We were in a position of just reacting and in a state of shock because we didn't know how to respond accordingly,' said Valencia, who manages a predominantly Asian and Latino staff.
Since that evening, the Lasita team has weathered canceled reservations and understaffing as the Greater Los Angeles metropolitan area has been swept by fear. Restaurant owners and managers have had to scramble to provide a framework of security and support for their staff, many of whom are undocumented immigrants.
'The industry is deeply confused,' said Corissa Hernandez, the owner of Nativo, a Mexican bar and restaurant in Highland Park. 'We're alarmed. We're frustrated about the lack of transparency, especially legal clarity.
'We're business owners, we're not immigration experts.'
ICE has made sweeping arrests since arriving in the region, resulting in widespread protests as well as a financial downturn for businesses across the county as many workers and customers remain home out of fear of being profiled.
This absence of economic activity has been felt acutely in the restaurant industry, which is staffed overwhelmingly by Latinos and immigrants — 79% and 66% respectively, according to the the Public Policy Institute of California, a nonprofit, nonpartisan think tank.
Immigrant workers have always gone hand in hand with the restaurant industry, said Kevin Johnson, a professor of public interest law and Chicano studies at UC Davis.
'The thing about the restaurant industry is that there are very small margins, and it's hard to stay in business,' he said. 'Keeping down prices usually means keeping down labor costs. That is where immigrant labor comes in.'
Bridgette Blackney, a co-owner of Butchr Bar in Echo Park, said immigrant communities are 'willing to work hard, learn fast and show up when others wouldn't.'
Over time, she said, immigrants became the 'quiet backbone of the industry.' Undocumented workers used borrowed or falsified employment eligibility documentation to secure work, and owners tended to not ask too many questions.
'Restaurants offer a rare space where skill can outweigh credentials, and where someone can build a life regardless of their background,' said Blackney. 'Language fluency isn't always required, training is often on the job and kitchens tend to value speed, dedication and reliability above all.'
On June 16, Hernandez hosted a Know Your Rights workshop for people in the restaurant industry. Workers ranging from chefs to managers to line cooks crowded the main bar at Nativo, eager to learn how to respond if the worst happened: an ICE raid at their business.
'Okay, everyone!' An organizer from the South- and Southwest-centered labor movement Organized Power in Numbers gave participants succinct phrases to deter ICE and explained that anything they say can be used against them. 'Repeat after me.'
'I am not authorized to speak with you.'
'I do not want to answer any of your questions.'
The presentation — co-sponsored by the Independent Hospitality Coalition, a local advocacy organization for hospitality workers, and Mijente, a Latino social justice organization — was peppered with questions from attendees.
'As much as there is fear, as much as there is confusion, this is the time to really educate yourself quickly and in real time, because what is happening is not OK,' Hernandez said.
Johnson added that restaurant leadership attending safety workshops can have a positive emotional impact on staff.
'Part of the benefit of the Know Your Rights sessions is telling human beings who are scared and fearful for themselves and their families that you care about them and want to try to provide whatever assistance that you can,' he said. 'That moral support right now, I think, goes a long way.'
Hayley Porter, a veteran restaurant manager in Highland Park, said she left the workshop with more questions than when she arrived. But, she said, it felt good to open the door to such conversations with her team.
Such grassroots efforts, she said, can be as crucial as marching or calling representatives.
'Can I give you a ride home instead of taking the bus today?' she said, offering an example. 'Can we order extra produce and staples from our vendors and send you home with some groceries instead of you being scared to go out to the grocery store?'
During the workshop, news broke that the downtown L.A. curfew had been extended from 8 p.m. to 10 p.m. The Lasita owners in attendance — Steff Valencia and chef Nico de Leon, as well as Chase — faced a new dilemma:
Should they reopen for dinner service, giving their team much-needed hours and offering the business a financial boost? Reservations dropped by 95% the week after the downtown curfew was implemented. After closing for three days, they attempted transitioning hours to a 1 to 6 p.m. lunch service where sales were down 73%.
But part of Lasita's reason for closing was due to fearful staff calling out of work. If they reopened, would they potentially be putting their staff and customers at risk?
'You're trying to respond from a business point of view; you're trying to respond from a personal point of view,' said Chase. 'You care so much, but you don't even know how to care.'
Across town in South-Central, owners Celia and Joe Ward-Wallace of South LA Cafe (SLAC) were navigating a different question: How could they provide support and resources for their staff and community without bringing unwanted attention from ICE upon themselves?
The Ward-Wallace's are vocal figures in the battle for racial justice and recently filed a civil rights lawsuit against the Los Angeles Police Department.
'Right now it's immigrants, but next it's going to be Black people, and next women, and we're seeing already the attacks on transgender and LGBTQIA folks,' Celia said. 'This is an intersectional issue. This affects all of us.'
The pair decided to lean on and share information from local organizations such as the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights (CHIRLA), Inclusive Action for the City and the National Day Laborer Organizing Network, rather than centering themselves in the ongoing conversation, said Celia.
They also used SLAC's previously established newsletter subscription base to build a rapid response network, a community-based intervention, in case a raid were to occur.
'It's a lot of pressure to ask a manager or leader on the team to have to deal with ICE. They didn't sign up for that,' Celia said. 'So [we're] able to say to them, 'Hey, if there's ICE presence, immediately notify Joe and me and the executive team,' but also we're going to notify our rapid response network, and we're essentially alerting the community to say we have trouble on site. We need you to come and just be there, [providing] power in numbers.'
As restaurants navigate what they can do in times of crisis, part of the frustration stems from reports of illegal tactics employed by ICE. Many videos on social media show agents snatching vendors and workers without presenting a warrant, or detaining and arresting American citizens.
'I think that's the scariest part that everyone is grappling with,' said Celia. 'We can literally be following our side of action to the letter of the law, and you can basically violate our constitutional rights, and there's no accountability for that.'
Restaurants have also had to navigate the stress of not knowing 'who is who,' said Hernandez, as videos on social media have depicted off-duty ICE agents out of uniform and dining at L.A. restaurants.
On June 12, agents dined at the Silver Lake location of local smashburger chain the Win-Dow. The Win-Dow team members confirmed this interaction, and one employee who declined to give his name called the resulting dynamic — ICE agents eating at local restaurants where kitchen staff is primarily Latino and living in fear — 'demeaning.'
'It kind of makes you feel like, man, what are you truly doing, you know?' the employee said. 'Like, you're coming to do raids, but you're gonna come and eat the food we prepare for you. We give you this hospitality, but you come in here and try to be hostile in our city.'
News of ICE agents dining at the Win-Dow spread on social media, with Instagram users leaving comments criticizing the restaurant for not turning the agents away. The Win-Dow has so far not addressed any of the comments or posted a statement on social media, but employees told The Times they achieved the best-case scenario given the risks.
'What would you do?' said Paul Hibler, founder of American Gonzo Food Corp., which owns the Win-Dow in addition to local chains Pitfire Pizza, Superba and American Beauty. 'Do you want to refuse service to somebody that would draw attention to you?'
'This is where we are right now in America,' he added. 'We're trying to figure out what we're supposed to do.'
Out of the confusion, defiant solutions have emerged. Now, when the Win-Dow employees exit the kitchen to the Sunset Triangle Plaza, they immediately swivel around and lock the door tight. Managers in the area have started a group chat to keep each other informed about ICE movements, according to several working on Sunset Boulevard.
And when Lasita did reopen — on June 17, the day after the workshop — it was with new enforcements:
'STOP, This is a Private Space for Employees Only, No Public Entry,' read signs posted in the back of house. Hosts and servers were given prompts to read in case ICE attempted to raid the restaurant. And the owners are working on an official emergency protocol to give to staff, whom Chase said feel more confident now that there is an open dialogue about safety protocol.
'A lot of people open their businesses because it was a dream of theirs to have these spaces, but there is a sense of responsibility that we owe our team,' Hernandez said. 'Our industry doesn't exist without immigrants, and it is morally wrong to not be there for those that have created the opportunities that we are able to realize at this point.'
'They've had our backs,' she added. 'It's time to have theirs.'