Baked with National Pride

Willie and Shirley Douglas raised five boys near Koreatown. It was a hardscrabble existence – coming to LA from Jamaica by way of Florida and New York. Willie was an industrious guy. Always a self-starter, full of ambition. Got his Master’s in Sociology from Cal State-Dominguez Hills at night while building a property management business by day. Yep, apartments. Buying, fixing up, renting, flipping occasionally for a larger property.

It’s a long way from Ocho Rios, Jamaica to LA. But many have made the journey; there’s a significant Jamaican population here.

Willie's son Reginald wants to capitalize on our fascination with and love of things Jamaican. Having inherited his dad’s passion, Reginald crisscrosses the city in his bright blue Honda Civic, peddling a trunk full of wares. Tirelessly hawking his bagels, cream cheese and bagel chips with an uncommon flair and unwavering smile.

But these aren’t bagels, Reginald exclaims.

“They’re Jamagels,” he says, drawing out the word, as in “jahhh-MAYYY-gel.”

Reginald shows his wares from the trunk of his Honda.

Bagels infused with the flavors of Jamaica. Using spices like ginger, nutmeg, vanilla. Or pimento, cloves, allspice, garlic and onions. Or raisins, cinnamon and malt syrup. Six kinds of bagels and five flavors of cream cheese – even one that’s Jerk flavored, with spice extracted from the Scotch bonnet pepper, found only the Caribbean.

This guy has found his calling. For years he was a graphic designer, selling t-shirts to retailers at trade shows. He’ll tell you custom t-shirts should have no more than two colors. Any more than two and they look … well, tacky. (My word. We’ve all owned a few of those.)

But the fashion biz started wearing thin.

“It’s always looking ahead a year and if you don’t have a fresh idea every three months, well …” Reginald says.

So, how did this second-generation Jamaican from central LA become interested in food?

“Because I’m a creative person,” he says. “My mind is constantly working. I went back and forth six or seven months on this idea. Should I do it or not?”

Then, like a true entrepreneur, he just did it. Started cold calling bakeries around town, pitching his idea. Would they be willing to test produce some bagels, mix different spices in them? Reginald got lots of rejection, but what entrepreneur isn’t used to rejection?

Finally, he found a baker willing to give his idea a shot. Brooklyn Bagels in downtown LA agreed to the plan, but it would be expensive. In order to get a reliable sample, they’d have to bake 13 dozen. If the first one wasn’t precisely right, they’d throw out the rest.

Lots of testing and tweaking and months later, Reginald gave birth to the Jamagel. Brooklyn Bakery has been making them for 2 ½ years.

The name Jamagel is trademarked. A combination of Jamaica and bagel, but “Jabagel” didn’t roll off the tongue, says Reginald. However, changing just one letter and he found the lyrical name that conjures images of swaying palm trees and crystal blue shores.

“When you say Jamaica, everyone loves Jamaica. Everyone loves Bob Marley. Even if they’ve never been there. So I said ‘How can I come up with a product that people will eat every single day?’ People eat bagels every single morning.”

True, with food, not much changes because we are creatures of habit. Reginald is hoping to tap into that. But first, you have to encourage trial.

So, like every good marketer, Reginald built a web site and a Facebook page and launched a Twitter account. He spends his day pitching locally-owned grocers and doing in-store demos. I met Reginald at Rainbow Acres in Marina del Rey one evening. Almost walked past him as he called out to me. But there was something about that infectious smile and attitude that brought me back. Reginald pitched, a little breathlessly, and I listened.

You know that feeling, when someone is trying to sell you something on the spot? You think, “what is this guy doing and what am I getting myself into?” That was me. I sampled some cream cheese, made mindless conversation, then said goodnight and walked to my car. Then, I doubled back, asked for his card and said I’d like to talk more about his little enterprise.

About a week later, we met for coffee. He had just come from a meeting that didn’t materialize. His appointment was a no-show. But Reginald doesn’t know disappointment and rejection, so he gladly sat with me, sipped ice water and told his story.

He said he’s the only person in his family with the food fascination.

“Jamaicans all know how to cook and cook for themselves so we usually don’t think of food as a commercial pursuit,” he said.

Reginald is looking for financing because, while several stores have bought his products, he has ambitious growth plans and has to pay that baker and the dairy that produces his cream cheese.

Several months ago I was having breakfast with a former Disney executive – talking about life and global issues and business.

“What’s the first thing you think when you think of California?” he asked me.

“Well, my opinion is, to be honest, I think it’s lost a step,” I said, referring to the sagging economy, unemployment and companies’ unwillingness to locate here because of taxes and regulation.

“Yes. But, California has something you won’t find anywhere else,” he countered.

And then, very eloquently, my friend described the budding creativity and entrepreneurial spirit that courses through the veins of the Golden State. It’s characterized by boldness, desire and an uncompromising belief in one’s ideas. Never giving up, always eager to wake up every morning and see what opportunities lie ahead.

This spirit is everywhere. You can’t deny it. I certainly found it in Reginald Douglas – the Jamagel Man.

As I waved goodbye and walked away, Reginald called to me: “Don’t have a good day. Don’t have a great day. Have a Jahhh-MAYY-gel day! See, I made you smile!”

Maybe, just maybe, this entrepreneur will make it work by winning people’s hearts and taste buds.

Best place to learn more or place an order is www.jamagel.com.

Finding Bliss in the Joy of Others

I took a spin down Lincoln Blvd toward Manhattan Beach to see my friend Catherine - a native Angelean. You see it all – the spotty outskirts of Santa Monica south of The 10 with the auto mechanics and little cafes and Hawaiian barbecue, the dusty storefronts of Venice (could use a power wash and a coat of paint), then the expansive condos of the Marina and the ever-growing sky as the street widens and you approach the rather grand Loyola Marymount campus and soon LAX. I love to drive that section of Lincoln that parallels the north runway; you swear the planes are going to land right on top of your car. I nod at the iconic In-n-Out on Sepulveda, where all the visitors flock for a burger just after landing.
 
And on through El Segundo to Manhattan Beach – a part of Manhattan Beach that most people don’t envision. They picture a little elite fortress of a town, secluded from the rabble and decked out with charming merchants and eateries. And of course the pier and myth about beach volleyball being born here. No, I’m talking about the Manhattan Beach along the PCH, home of yoga studios and UPS stores and Ralph’s and car dealers. Yes, John Elway Toyota is here. Once I stayed at a tired Residence Inn next door to the Elway lot. This is the dealership bearing the name by the All-World QB? Like most things in the middle-class sections of Manhattan Beach (and LA for that matter) it’s quite modest. First, land is precious and lots are small and, second, being exposed to the relentless California sun gives everything kind of a shopworn appearance. (We put up with wood rot and general fade in Santa Monica because, hey, it’s Santa Monica. At the beach, a little of the right kind of shabby is okay.)

I parked in the snug, cratered parking lot near Two Guns Coffee. Catherine recommended it and I’m always up for something new. The strip mall – if you want to call it that – was chock full of random little stores (how do they stay in business?) and surprisingly, parking was at a premium. If you didn’t know this place was here you’d miss it. Unassuming comes to mind. Inside I found a few tables and a small counter and the aroma of some fine blend of coffee. I’m not that discriminating; I think all coffee smells good. 

Catherine was waiting for me, croissant and cup at hand. Beaming as usual. Even when the chips are down, she has a ready smile.

“How are you?” I called to her from across the room. We hugged. I sat down. She recommended the pastry; I said no thanks I had breakfast. She had just come from working out. A light workout, she said.

“It’s great and you don’t perspire too much.” I’m not familiar with that type of workout.

Catherine was laid off a few months ago and we often commiserate about the job market. We worked at the same company for a time. Her husband was laid off from the same company but has since found work elsewhere. 

Catherine lost a job, but found peace.

“For the first time, I’m really enjoying our south Redondo Beach neighborhood,” she said. “I used to work long hours and didn't get to spend a lot of time at home. My husband and I live across the street from the high school so the softball and football fields are always bustling with kids. I feel a part the community now. There's a comforting ebb and flow to each day that I never felt before." 

Somehow I don’t think Catherine will suffer for lack of a corporate job. She’s had some interviews, but so far nothing. It’s the toughest market ever, in the toughest city in America.
Instead, she’s rekindled a passion for taking pleasure in the joy of others. We all know brides invest a lot of effort in their wedding day and want to preserve the memories, and Catherine has tapped into that sentiment. For several years she’s had a business preserving wedding bouquets so brides can have a lasting keepsake of their special day. 

“I’ve been taking social media classes, learning about search engine optimization and such,” she rattled off, excitedly. “I’m really working at marketing my business.”

And this is what Catherine loves to do. She loves to see the expression on a newlywed’s face when she picks up her arrangement. This being LA and South Bay Floral Preservation being a one-person operation, there’s no earthly way she can deliver. Her customers must drop off and pick up, or they can arrange a FedEx delivery. 

“I market within a 50 mile radius of Redondo Beach, but I’ve had brides from out of state use my services,” she said. “This is the biggest day of their lives, so they’ll go to great lengths to make it special.” 

While Catherine has shared joy, she’s also witnessed grief. She’s been asked to preserve floral arrangements from memorials, and the stories are sobering.

“There was a girl – a teenager – killed in a car accident,” she said a catch in her throat. “It was so sad. I don’t know how people carry on.” A real earnestness in her expression. 

And maybe Catherine’s contribution can assist with the healing – even in some small way.
I’m heartened by the pluck and determination of Angelenos – their capacity for finding a purpose. When her company gave her the boot, Catherine rededicated herself to her business.

Unlike those faded buildings, she’s intent on preserving beauty and following her bliss.