How would some of L.A.'s most interesting and influential people live their last day in L.A.? We find out in this series, which accompanies our Best of L.A. issue.

I'd wake up in my apartment in Glendale — my wife and I live right behind Porto's — and head over to Proof (3156 Glendale Blvd., Glendale) with my wife to get some breakfast. Then we'd go for a hike up in Griffith Park (4730 Crystal Springs Drive), up to Amir's Gardens, then back down around and over to Mount Hollywood. That's where we spread our dog's ashes last year, so we'd go up there and pay a visit. Then take a nice hard hike and come down, go home and take a shower.


Then I'd go catch a Dodgers game. It'd be a 1 o'clock game. And I'd go to Dodger Stadium (1000 Elysian Park Ave.) — if it's the last day, you gotta go. We'd eat hot dogs, have one too many beers. Kershaw would be pitching. Against the Giants. A shut-out — no, a no-hitter. Because it's my world.

After the game, back at our apartment, we'd get together with friends and family. I'd have my dad cook something for me and we'd end the night drinking and eating and hanging out.

If I had to eat one thing that would be the last thing I ate, it would be this breakfast my dad makes. Yeah, I guess we'd have to find out when the world was ending first. My mom passed away when I was 15 and he kind of took over — I didn't know he could cook like that. He's old-school, he was a Teamster. He'd do this thing he'd call huevos batidos. A flour tortilla, with refried beans and this egg that he'd scramble and put minced raw onions into it. Then he'd fry that in lard or bacon fat. He'd fry it so it floats, then it browns like a chile relleno. It almost looks like a Yorkshire pudding — the egg gets golden brown and puffs up. So that goes into the tortilla with queso fresco, avocado and a simple chile.

It's a humble taco. I made those once here at the truck. It's fucking hard to make them to order, but they're so fucking good. You know, I don't ever eat my food — OK, maybe I'll eat that marlin taco — but that day I had, like, six of those. That would be my end of the world.

—as told to Amy Scattergood

Wes Avila mostly parks his taco truck, Guerilla Tacos, outside excellent coffee shops in downtown L.A. and Culver City, serving his highly personal version of L.A. street food to a devout audience. A former Teamster, culinary school grad and veteran of fine dining restaurants (Marche, Le Comptoir), Avila is a lifelong Angeleno.

See what other incredible things our city has to offer in this year's Best of L.A. issue.

LA Weekly