Joshua Gil, former chef at innovative Alta California restaurants including Mírate and Tacos Punta Cabras, died early this morning, according to his longtime partner Tharini Shanmugarajah. The chef who helped recontextualize and reimagine Mexican food in Los Angeles had battled cancer for four years. He was 50 years old.
Gil, a spiritualist as well as a chef, spent years of his life using food “to help people get back into their bodies and really provide them with the nourishment they need to ground themselves.” He said he cooked for chakra dinners, shamanic journeys and Ayurvedic practices. He also co-founded an underground supper club called Supper Liberation Front in 2009 to democratize fine dining.
It served vibrant, globally tinged Mexican cuisine, such as tacos with crunchy chicharrón furikake; duck carnitas burritos; eggs benedict with dutch marinade; and lamb flautas with feta cheese and saffron-pickled fennel.
“I love helping people,” Gil told The Times in 2025. “What we do, we do with heart and soul. It's just love, and that's what I want to share.”
Gil received a diagnosis of stage 2 colorectal cancer in 2022 and began chemotherapy the week before opening Mírate de Los Feliz, a follow-up to Mírame de Beverly Hills, which he also previously operated on.
After multiple cycles of treatment and eventual remission, the cancer resurfaced in 2023, this time at stage 4. His treatments continued, and throughout that time he continued to cook and opened restaurants, including Three Flames, a combination taqueria and Mongolian barbecue in Westchester, and Maison Kasai and Mother of Pearl, an upscale teppanyaki spot and seafood bar, respectively, both located in the city's downtown nightlife complex, Level 8.
“I’m a very stubborn asshole,” Gil previously told the Times. “I like to tell people, 'I'm Mexican. I don't know how to give up.'”
He also spent his career mentoring rising culinary talents.
“There was a deep respect for him and the way he paved the way for young chefs, especially the way he showcased Alta California and inspired others, including me,” said Macheen chef Jonathan Pérez, who cooked with Gil at Mírate. “When he had the opportunity to include me, he was always taking care of me and in the same way he always controlled me. [on] How was life and business?
On Monday morning, the chefs began sharing memories of Gil on social media.
Chef Joshua Gil, photographed on January 17, 2024.
(Tharini Shanmugarajah)
“Some people come into your life and in an instant you know it will never be the same,” celebrity chef Dominique Crenn posted on her Instagram. “Life just gets better with them. Twenty years later, it seems like no time has passed. Connections like ours are rare.
“Thank you, Josh, for your friendship, your laughter, your endless jokes, and your unwavering presence.”
“I'll miss you!” Posted by San Diego chef José Cepeda. “I will love you forever!”
According to Shanmugarajah, Gil cultivated community everywhere he went, especially when it came to food. In January 2024, the two traveled to an orphanage in India, where Gil helped cook rice, paneer, and roti for the children.
“At his core, it was the essence of who Josh was: someone who was kind, compassionate and always deeply present with everyone around him,” he said. “He wants us all to continue to carry that spirit forward and continue to spread light and kindness and love in the world and show up for each other the way he showed up for us, and that is by living with open hearts and valuing the people around us, sharing a meal together and creating truly meaningful connections.”
Angelenos, especially the culinary community, rallied behind Gil. In their years of chemotherapy and treatment with alternative medicines, they held food events to raise funds to help pay for their treatments and transportation. A GoFundMe raised more than $61,000 last year.
The Riverside-born chef partially credited yoga with “saving [him] of the kitchen,” and considered healing others to be his “real” role. He said his years of treatments led to even more soul-searching.
“I literally almost died yesterday,” he told The Times in 2025. “It's an interesting thing, because I've been sitting with our identities: who we are, our images of who we are. I haven't put on the [chef’s] whites for a long time and yet they still call me “chef.” We never lose that. It doesn't matter how far you are from the kitchen. You are constantly called “chef” by those who know you as such, and it is [hard] clinging to that livelihood, that lifestyle, that whole ego.”
A friend who visited him last year asked him if the restaurants would be his legacy. The question stumped him. More recently, Gil had abandoned the daily operations of his kitchen due to his weakened immune system. But he continued advising.
“From early morning ingredient runs to busy serving, tastings, and relentless perfection in the kitchen, you showed us what true chef discipline looks like,” Asadero taquero Emiliano Martínez, a former cook at Mírate, posted on Instagram. “We never wanted to let you down, and we never will. Your voice walking through the kitchen still stays with me.”
