Throwing Shade
A brief history of Laurel Canyon's namesake tree.

Behold Umbelluleria Californica, above, better known as the California Bay Laurel, or just California Laurel, a shrub-like tree (or tree-like shrub, depending on your point of view), found on the West coast from Oregon to San Diego.
(Oregonians, who have endured quite enough Californica, thank you, refer to this same tree as the Oregon Myrtle and carve salad bowls and forks and knives out its dense, tightly grained wood; they like dense, tightly grained wood in the Northwest—I don’t know why.)
There is no shortage of California Bay Laurel in Laurel Canyon, which logically enough takes its name from the tree—though thankfully not the genus part; imagine the difficulty John Mayall would have had singing “My Umbelluleria Canyon Home.”
California Bay Laurel are more ubiquitous in Laurel Canyon than even the pretty-freaking-ubiquitous eucalyptus; the atelier is surrounded by them, a benefit beyond their pleasant looks because…
This time of year, the tree’s waxy yellow flowers open and fill the canyon with incredibly thick jasmine musk—it’s almost overpowering, especially on hot, witchy nights when the air is hot and dry but softened by the perfume wafting from the trees.
Though I can’t vouch for it—and frankly wouldn’t try it—it’s said the California Bay Laurel’s leaves are comparable in flavor to plain old bay leaves, which they resemble, though are several magnitudes more intense.
Also, folkie folklore holds that the scent of the tree’s crushed leaves can both relieve and produce a headache—God forbid there should be plant in Laurel Canyon without a groovy psycho-pharmacological component.


My spaghetti's never been the same since I moved away from California and it's Bay Leaves; they do really taste the same but better 🤤