The Food Truck of Ramona Gardens

Jeanette Castro is going to graduate college this spring. Most people from Ramona Gardens don’t.

“They usually end up in jail or, I don’t know, something bad,” said Castro. “It sucks.”

Ramona Gardens is one of the poorest neighborhoods in Los Angeles. The median family income is less than half that of the national average, and 37 percent of the residents live below the poverty line. There are no restaurants, no farmers markets and no community gardens. The nearest grocery store is a 20-minute drive away, an insurmountable distance to many of the residents who don’t have access to a car. Ramona Gardens is a food desert.

If residents can’t find a way to get to the supermarket, their options are limited. The only store is Nico’s Market, a corner convenience store that provides a limited selection of produce, meat and packaged goods. But everything costs more than it would at a grocery store, and the food is often past its expiration date.

“It’s expensive and it’s not worth it,” said Castro. She stood in front of the produce cooler at Nico’s. The cooler has about a dozen different fruits and vegetables and is only partial stocked. “It’s empty. Like, sometimes if you want to buy tomatoes, they’re no tomatoes. Because they’re all with holes or practically black. So you have no options really.”

Ramona Gardens sits just north of the 10 freeway and east of downtown. Many of the buildings are empty, paint chipping from years of neglect. Few cars pass. It is common to see parents on bikes with small children gripping their back, standing on pegs jutting out of the back tire. Ninety percent of the residents speak English as a second language, and more than 90 percent are Hispanic.

“It’s dangerous here, there’re many gangs, many people drink and use drugs,” said Castro. Crime levels are high. According to some residents, police didn’t even patrol the area until 10 years ago.
Even though Nico’s is overpriced, there is constantly a long line at the checkout counter.

“Sometimes people don’t have options,” said Nora Maya, Castro’s mother. “They don’t have a car, they have kids.”

Beyond Nico’s there is one other option for food. Everyday, a truck parks down the block. The old, dilapidated pickup has crates of produce and snacks, everything priced considerably less than at Nico’s. A group of men sit throughout the day.

Castro says the food is not only cheaper, it’s also better. For example, the truck sells strawberries for a dollar, while at the store they’re $2.99. “And they’re still good,” said Castro. “It’s not rotten like at the corner store. This isn’t even a store and they’ve got better quality. And that’s why people come to him.”

The truck has parked in the same spot every day for the last 22 years. In that time, Jose Rodriguez, who owns and runs the truck, has developed a relationship with the community. It allows him to offer something else Nico’s doesn’t: credit.

Rodriguez sells food to people, regardless if they have money with them. He keeps his records in a black and white notebook, which is falling apart at the seams. Every page is dedicated to a different family, with long columns that show amounts borrowed and repaid.

“When you need to go to the store, it’s a struggle of money,” said Castro. “Here, you can get what you need without the money, which is a good thing, and pay him later.”

There is no specific credit limit, but people don’t need to settle their accounts in order to get more food. Some pages show a balance that steadily climbs up, owing the truck more and more, but Rodriguez doesn’t cut them off.

“If we can help someone and still run our business, we will,” said Rodriguez.

Rodriguez and his son get their produce every morning from the LA Market Warehouse downtown. He says he is able to charge so little because he doesn’t need to pay for rent, only a vending permit. In a survey conducted by the city about mobile vendors, Rodriguez says his truck was rated the cheapest and he got the highest grade in quality.

In 22 years of operation, Rodriguez says there hasn’t been another option for people to buy food. Long ago, there was a second market next to Nico’s, but Nico’s put them out of business by charging less. When the second market went under, Nico’s prices skyrocketed. “Between over here [at the truck] and over there [at the market], everyone would prefer to go over here,” said Castro.

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