Photo Essay: A Factory Tour for Foodie Fashion

I'd been hearing about Hedley & Bennett, the hipster apron company, though I don't think I'd ever actually encountered one of their aprons.

Or if I had, I never noticed.

After all, why would I? If I'm cooking or baking, I just let the hot grease splatter all over my arms. I lick the cake batter from my shirt. But generally I like someone else to do the cooking.



Still, when I heard that the ringleaders of the so-called "Apron Squad" were having a fundraiser event, I saw it as an opportunity to take a little nighttime self-guided tour of their factory.



Their factory is over in Vernon, not far from the zipper factory or the candle factory...



...but something tells me that this factory—maybe it's better to call it a "creative space"—is a little different than some of its neighbors that are mass-producing things like dog food.



It's a great old industrial building...



...with a vibrant splash of color, thanks to all of the different  model aprons that are on display.



They have their standard models, worn by a variety of young and cutting edge chefs and mixologists, but they kind of specialize in custom aprons. They've previously collaborated with Mario Batali, Roy Choi, and even Intelligentsia Coffee.



But if you don't want somebody else's apron design, you can choose from a variety of body styles, fabrics, and hardware...



...and get your own bespoke apron.

Whatever your choices are, you're sure to get a brass adjuster on your strap, reinforced pockets, and a type of "fusible interlining" to keep the ends from curling up.



After that, you can kind of go crazy on your own one-of-a-kind creation (though actually their minimum order for custom is 25).



The fabrics come in various materials, from canvas and linen to denim...



...and colors, from Rhubarb to Ginger to Black Sesame...

...and a few colors and patterns in between.



And it's not just aprons, of course, but also work shirts and chef coats for both men and women. Don't expect any frilly French maid getups here, because the gear for both sexes is rugged, badass, and beautiful—more like what a blacksmith might wear.



I bet the aprons are sometimes nice (maybe even a lot nicer) than the clothes they're meant to protect.



All of it is handmade here in LA...

...and then shipped out to people and establishments all over the U.S.



I kind of thought I was being clever by getting into the Hedley & Bennett factory by way of a party (after all, I got some pizza and beer out of it), but it turns out that I could've just shown up pretty much any time. They welcome visitors—and not just to push aprons on you.

It's worth a visit even if you're like me and don't really cook—because it's changing the culinary scene, inside the kitchen and behind the bar, on both coasts.

And it's doing it from a city that the rest of the country doesn't even associate with food or cocktails.

Except, of course, they're wrong.

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To Look an Owl in the Eyes

This is Newton at the Wildlife Learning Center in Sylmar, just north of LA. He usually stays in a dark, wooden enclosure because he's nocturnal, and the sun can literally burn his eyeballs if he's out in it for more than, say, 15 minutes.



And that's about as long as you get with Newton if you spring for one of the individual animal encounters—which is the only way to get one-on-one with many of the animals at the sanctuary.

As he gets acclimated to being outside in the sun—and being perched on a stranger's gloved arm—Newton will turn away, even as you rotate your body. Contrary to popular belief, he can't turn his head an entire 360 degrees, but he can get pretty close: 270 degrees.



Despite being taken out of his comfort zone, Newton doesn't seem distressed. His talons are relaxed on the glove rather than gripping, clenching, trying to pierce the leather and make a meal out of me.

And he's easy to hold up, too, because he only weighs about a half pound. Although his body appears pretty sizable—smaller than some hawks and other birds of prey, but bigger than another arboreal birds—it's pretty much all feathers that he puffs up to make him look bigger (and scarier) than he actually is.



The design of his feathers also keeps him incredibly light and allows him to catch the wind so he can get a lot of loft when he flies. And, incredibly, they allow him to fly at top speed almost entirely silently—with nary a flap or a flutter.

And that's a good thing—because, unlike the hawk, Newton is a solo hunter. When he's looking for food (often the same food that the hawk may eat), he's got to expose himself to his predators, and he ends up putting himself in nearly as much danger as his own prey.



Newton looks a lot like a barn owl with his heart-shaped face and feathers arranged in something of a "Caesar" cut. But he's a subspecies of the tawny owl, which means his face isn't quite as stark white and has more rufous, or reddish-brown accents. And it's that face that most people associate with an owl being "wise"—although, in truth, their brains are pretty tiny, buried inside all of those feathers.

He's considered a "typical" owl—or also a "true" owl—but it's hard to think of any owl as being typical. Those big eyes (and resulting binocular vision) aren't "balls" like those of humans and many other animals, but rather more like tubes that extend deep inside their skulls far beyond what you can see on the outside of their heads. (Hence, again, not a lot of room for brain.)



And as good as Newton's eyesight is—with that "binocular" type of vision they share with hawks—he also relies on his ears, which aren't symmetrically placed on his head. Because his left ear is higher and turns up, and his right ear is lower and turns dow, he's got keen directional hearing. But we couldn't even see his ears, since tawny owls don't have the ear "tufts" that you see on other common owls.

He did manage to surprise us when he unceremoniously coughed up an "owl pellet"—which is actually a compact nugget of all the indigestible parts (hair, fur, bones) of the animals he's eaten. It never makes it into his belly or gets pooped out because it gets filtered out and sent into the owl's "second stomach," also known as its gizzard. It's basically a holding tank and trash compactor, and when it's full, the owl empties it by hurling a dried up chunk of puke that drops to the ground with a thud.



He didn't give us a hoot—and he didn't give a hoot about us—because he wasn't trying to mate with either of us, and he didn't have to claim his territory. But even though he wasn't looking for a mate, that doesn't mean he has one. Eurasian tawny owls like Newton typically mate for life, but right now, Newton is a bachelor.

And because he's captive, he doesn't get to go out and hunt for his food, either. Mice are brought to him at feeding time, but not live ones—because if a live mouse decided to really fight back, it could actually hurt Newton.

All of the animals at the Wildlife Learning Center were either found or rescued—many injured, some illegally domesticated and then confiscated or abandoned by their owners—and can't be returned to the wild for whatever reason.

So although living in Sylmar isn't really ideal for any of them, at least it's better than where they came from. And, selfishly, I'm glad he's there—because when else would I ever be able to look an owl like that in the eyes?

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Photo Essay: The Wild Goose, Upon John Wayne's Birthday

I love movie westerns—even more so now that I'm living in "The West" where a lot of them were filmed—but I don't think I've ever seen any starring John Wayne. I still have a lot of catching up to do on old movies.



But that didn't keep me away from the yacht that was The Duke's home-away-from-home from 1962 to 1979.



As soon as I first heard of "The Wild Goose," as it's still called, I knew I had to get on that boat.



So on the occasion of John Wayne's birthday—even though he passed away 37 years ago—I took a cruise on The Wild Goose, which is now registered as a historic landmark.



The history of The Wild Goose predates John Wayne's ownership of it by nearly 20 years, as it was built in 1942 for the U.S. Navy as a World War II Minesweeper, the USS YMS 328.



She was only in active duty in Alaska for about three years and got "mothballed" in 1946. Starting in 1948, she changed hands—and names—a couple of times before John Wayne bought her for $110,000.



It's currently owned and operated by Hornblower Cruises—who can also take you whale-watching—and it's in pristine condition.



Thankfully, its previous owners (a lawyer, a banker, and the City of LA) wanted to keep it mostly as John Wayne had left it.



And that's when it began to look as it does today, with some dramatic customizations—including raising ceilings to accommodate his tall 6'4" stature.



Now, much of the "public" areas are in tribute to The Duke, the walls filled with paintings and archival photographs of him.



One of the staterooms on the Middle Deck has been converted into a library...



...which houses a poker table that actually did belong to The Duke, but wasn't originally located on this boat.



The books and cabinets show their age—with just enough wear and tear (and the smell of old books) to give them character.



The Middle Deck also contains the original Kids' Stateroom, outfitted with two bunk beds and its own private bathroom...



...though, reportedly, John Wayne used to lock their bedroom door from the outside, forcing them to walk through their bathroom that connected with his so he could keep track of their comings and goings.



His Master Stateroom is much as he left it, with original furnishings—including the bed he actually slept in with his third and final wife, Pilar.



Their master bathroom (the one that connects to the kids' head) is unmistakably both western rustic...



...and Hollywood glamour.



The Wild Goose gives a pretty luxurious ride, too. I barely felt anything as we were gliding through the Newport Bay, thanks to its two G.M.C. Cleveland 8-268-A straight eight cylinder diesel engines with a total of 1,000 shaft horsepower.



The Wild Goose's wheelhouse is largely original as well—including the wheel itself...



...and a couple other pieces of vintage nautical equipment.



I know I probably should've been enjoying the view as we cruised along...



...but I was far more interested in the boat itself...



...than in the scenery we were passing.



Although I had access to a great many rooms (including the Red Witch and Poseidon restrooms) and levels on The Wild Goose...



...from the Main Deck to the Upper Deck...



...there were some areas where entry was forbidden, either because they were for crew operations...



...or, as in the case of the Lower Deck where the guest staterooms are, there just aren't the amenities that are needed to give the public access (like emergency exits).



There was, however, plenty to keep me entertained and moving about the entire 136-foot boat...



...circling each deck a few times to make sure I didn't miss anything.



We actually passed the house on the bay that John Wayne once called home...



...which also happens to be next door to the house that Nicolas Cage once called home.



The cruise was festive, the Upper Deck having been converted into a sit-down dining room with a bar installed and a goose painted on the funnel.



But I wasn't really there for the food.



I was just happy to be sitting right above the Master Stateroom, in the very same spot where John Wayne, his family, and his crew used to jump off from into whichever waters they happened to be in.

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