Life in California is full of head-scratching queries—like, Why are our beaches freezing in July and perfect in October? So Alta Journal has enlisted two experts to answer your pressing questions: Stacey Grenrock Woods and Gustavo Arellano, both of whom bring decades of hard-won knowledge and laser-sharp insights into the Golden State.
Have a question of your own? Ask a Californian!
What is the best regional, California-based fast-food chain?
—Hungry in Humboldt
Stacey: Into chains, are you? No judgment, of course—this is California—but that is one wild fetish.
Let’s iron out your very specific kink for regional, California-based fast-food chains. I think you might be screwed in Humboldt (again, no judgment), but if you’re planning to quit your dungeon and come down south for a truly great burrito—the burrito upon which Big Burrito (Chipotle, Baja Fresh) built its churches—then get yourself to Poquito Mas. Beloved since the ’80s, its mere seven Los Angeles–area locations are still boutique-y enough to attract Denzel Washington. If you’re not bothered by a legacy of matricide (and sororicide), Zankou Chicken’s got what you need. Make sure to get extra garlic sauce and block out a few days to recover from eating it long after the chicken is gone. And for a chili burger so good that gangs consider its locations no-man’s-lands, you want Original Tommy’s. That’s more punishment than most people can take, but if you finish one of those, you can have some more.
Gustavo: The answer is not In-N-Out, which is not just totally overrated, but now barely even Californian—seems all the new locations are in places like Tennessee and Idaho to cater to people who quit the Golden State for overrated states. A true regional chain doesn’t leave its metropolitan area and doesn’t want to, which is why I’ll always love small-fry spots like Super Duper Burgers in the Bay Area, TK Burgers in Orange County, and Fresno’s Triangle Drive-in minichain, among the many California minichains I enjoy.
On that note, California’s best regional fast-food chain is King Taco in the L.A. area. Not only did founder Raúl O. Martínez launch the modern-day taco-truck industry in the 1970s, but he also perfected the best salsa in the world: red, furious, thick like lava, and whipped out fast. No wonder the L.A. City Council designated the original location a historic-cultural monument this year, which would make it the first good thing the L.A. City Council has done in, well, ever.
I get that California is a cyclist’s paradise and many of our cities and towns rightly include bike lanes. But many cyclists use some sort of biker sign language I don’t understand. Whose responsibility is it to convey what, for example, a left arm bent up at the elbow means? As a driver, I’m illiterate to this form of communication.
—Sorry, I Only Speak Subaru
Stacey: Your driver’s ed teacher and I are going to pretend we didn’t hear that, Subaru. This “sign language” you speak of isn’t some lingua franca spoken only by cyclists. It’s the universal language that all motorists, pedestrians, cyclists, and even those wheelie-popping, e-motorcycle-riding nepo babies we all love so much have been required to know since time eternal. You’re not allowed to be “illiterate to this form of communication.” It’s the first thing you learn.
As young driving students, we were told that there would come a day when we’d need to know hand signals. And now here you are, in 2026, asking “whose responsibility” it is to explain them to you. Well, apparently it’s mine, and that day is today. Now pay attention, 007: Arm (always the left) bent up means “I’m going right,” straight out means “I’m going left,” and bent down means “I’m stopping.” That’s it! And now that you know it, all that other “sign language” those cyclists have been flashing you should stop too.
Gustavo: This is what happens when schools cut down on driver’s ed and the next generation’s driving habits are learned through TikTok reels of guys doing doughnuts during street takeovers. But my dear co-columnista is only partly right for the first time ever: While the DMV’s official California Driver’s Handbook does teach the hand signals she laid out, it also states that “bicyclists may signal a turn with their arm held straight out, pointing in the direction they plan to turn.” In other words, cyclists can do whatever the hell they want with their arms—no fair! So next time they do some indecipherable gesticulatory measure, flash them the peace sign, because to flip the bird is just too Florida.
When I lived in both Chicago and New York, it was easy to make friends as an adult. A recent move to California, however, finds me lonely. People aren’t as chatty with strangers here, and I want to find a community in Cali. Any advice on where to start?
—Looking for a Lunch Date
Stacey: Yes, don’t say “Cali.” It translates roughly to “I’m someone you don’t want to have lunch with.” Apart from that, I’m not sure how to advise you. People in California are even worse than not chatty: When you pass them on the street, they’re too focused on their How to Deal with Loneliness podcasts to even look up. But you shouldn’t consider your inability to amass a group of friends any kind of failing. I’m still trying to do it, and I’ve been here all my life. I think friends went out with Friends. The best you can hope for in this post-pandemic nuttiness we call “society” is to get yourself included in a clique that regularly makes solid plans to make vague plans. There is a next step after this where you actually go and do things, and if and when you ever figure out how that part’s done, call me. We’ll have lunch.
Gustavo: You can’t find a community here? California created the very idea of community—they’re known as “cults,” or “In-N-Out fanboys.” You can try and find some online, but just go to your local park and stand around long enough, and a group to your liking will eventually pass by and make you one of their own. How do you think Gavin Newsom got to where he got?
Next question? advice@altaonline.com•
Stacey Grenrock Woods is a regular contributor to Esquire and a former correspondent for The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. She writes and consults on various TV shows, and has a recurring role as Tricia Thoon on Fox’s Arrested Development. Her first book is I, California.
Gustavo Arellano is the author of Orange County: A Personal History and Taco USA: How Mexican Food Conquered America. In 2025, Arellano was named a Pulitzer Prize finalist for his work as a columnist for the Los Angeles Times. He was formerly editor of OC Weekly, an alternative newspaper in Orange County, California, and penned the award-winning ¡Ask a Mexican!, a nationally syndicated column in which he answered any and all questions about America’s spiciest and largest minority. Arellano is the recipient of awards ranging from the Association of Alternative Newsweeklies Best Columnist to the Los Angeles Press Club President’s Award to an Impact Award from the National Hispanic Media Coalition, and he was recognized by the California Latino Legislative Caucus with a 2008 Spirit Award for his “exceptional vision, creativity, and work ethic.” Arellano is a lifelong resident of Orange County and is the proud son of two Mexican immigrants, one of whom came to this country in the trunk of a Chevy.
