The ‘West Coast’ has been the West Coast for a long time, and for far longer advocates of social change have embraced ‘alternative’ diets and the restaurants devoted to them. Nearly every left publication I have looked into with ads, from Social Christian to Communist, will contain one for a vegetarian diner. Here, Jim Seymour and comrades visit a raw food diner in 1919 Los Angeles for this delightful review in New Justice; a publication whose attitude and aesthetic still feels modern today.

‘R-R-R-Raw Food!’ by Jim Seymour from New Justice. Vol. 1 No. 11. July 15, 1919.

What do you say we go out for a lunch? Yes, I know it’s too hot to eat, but if Billy Sunday’s dope is straight it’ll be even hotter for us if we don’t eat. Now don’t start that everlasting pow-wow about which restaurant or which other one. I reckon I know that catalog of grease-joints about as well as you do. There’s the Royal Gorge, the Greasy Spoon, Stuffer’s, the Microscopic Portion, the Chew Shoe Noodeleria, and so forth ad indi­gestum.

Huh? Say that again. A raw food eating-house, eh? Langdon Smith’s Evolution must have gotten on your nerves. Do you really believe that there has been so sudden and so general a reversion to type that someone finds it profitable to cater to the needs of the disveneered? A beautiful picture this genial California sun is burning into your brain: savages tearing the bleeding flesh of the newly-killed prey; loud-smelling entrails scattered over mosaic tiling; protruding chops dripping with fresh warm blood; hairy claws clutching great chunks of red, quivering-ugh! cut it out!      

Well why didn’t you say so? If that’s the case, I don’t mind trying it. Why, it’s right across the street- that sign reading “Eat Your Way to Health.” Reminds me of the time I was hog-tied and a little bird said, “Gnaw your way to freedom.”

Draw a long breath. Now we’re in! And as we sometimes are signpainters and are governed by economic determinism- yes, yes, we talk shop- the first thing we see is a sign bearing the startling announcement, “We feed our hogs scientifically.” But don’t be offended too soon. They are not calling us names; they are merely advising us to curb our appetites and eat like hogs. See? -the rest of the sign reads, “How many of us eat scientifically?”

There is another unusual sign that reads, “Do you care to read while eating? You are welcome to take any of our books from the literature table and read during your meal.” On the table are books, both cheap and expensive. Help yourself. They are all for sale, we learn, but you will never know it unless you are interested enough to inquire, for here the commercial spirit is strangely lacking.

In the cheeks of the woman behind the counter we notice a rosy bloom that is the real thing. Don’t get poetical now. We’re talking about grub, and this is no I.W.W. convention.

Grab your tray, old-timer; we savvy that much anyhow. We ask about this first dish and the lady explains that it is called pemmican, is made of crushed nuts and grains, and is served with this banana sauce. We’ll try pemmican. And from the salads and salads we select a couple and a portion of raw carrots. Moving down the line we boldly appropriate a slab of raw pie and then proceed somewhat less boldly toward the cash register. Beside the register are the drinks and behind it a young man who looks good to us-good enough to call Phil right off the bat. Phil doesn’t resent it a bit; in fact, it seems to go straight to the warm spot in his democratic core. We ask him if these drinks aren’t pretty raw, and he assures us that they are. We fail to find any raw booze among them, but there are grape and orange juices, goat’s milk and cow’s milk. Noticing our hesitation, Phil gives us the quick once-over and recommends not the most expensive drink, but the cheapest. Peculiar fellow, this Phil.  He knows we will accept his diagnosis at ‘most any old price, but he seems to prefer principles to a few pennies of profit.

We pay 39 cents for our feed and retire to a nice clean table. We are much surprised to discover that the food is remarkably palatable, especially the carrots. We can’t figure out how the carrots are prepared, but they are great stuff. And we are more surprised to learn that we have ordered more food than we can eat. It has a kick that is amazing and that teaches us the futility of attempting to gobble everything we see simply because we happen to have the price. How do stockmen feed hogs scientifically? Good food and less of it.

Really, I don’t believe we’ll be able to walk for fifteen minutes or so, so we’ll look over the literature. Look here- these people are not merely food-peddlers; they are dreamers, and their dream is scientific. We haven’t time right now to read it all, but it seemed they dream of a world of beauty, of love, and of happiness; of a world of intelligence and the sense of justice that generally accompanies intelligence. They dream of a world free from all diseases, including ignorance and yellow journalism. And they dream of a world where murder is murder, regardless of the number of feet possessed by the murdered creature.  On the whole, these people are quite different from the gentlemen of the beef trust who spend millions of dollars in advertisements announcing that they are in business for their health.

Well, we’ll be going. And listen, people: Yours is a fine and noble work and we’re with you strong, but don’t forget that when we are out of a job and haven’t the price of a plate of raw food our goose is cooked.  That little kink in the problem must also be straightened. We’re with you, people; are you with us? If so, let’s plug together for the economic permission to eat good food, raw and unseasoned, and to become the salt of the earth.

The New Justice was a twice-monthly journal published by the Friends of the Russian Revolution out of Los Angeles and edited by Roswell Brownson and Clarence Meily. Inspired by the Russian Revolution, New Justice was one of many communist journals that were produced by the Socialist Party’s Left Wing and the IWW in the years immediately after 1917. New Justice lasted less than year before folding. It’s pages, focused on the arts and art of revolution, reflected the cosmopolitan, English-speaking revolutionary West Coast left personified at the time by The Masses on the East Coast. A victim of the Palmer Raids, it shut production in January, 1920.

PDF of full issue: https://www.marxists.org/history/usa/pubs/new-justice/v1n11-jul-15-1919-justice.pdf