Exposé Details How FARE Helped Gut Critical Food Allergy Legislation

“It was confusing for me to get amendments from [FARE] that were… for restaurants. The actual restaurant association wasn’t even asking for those amendments.” — California Senator Caroline Menjivar

In January 2025, California lawmakers introduced SB 68 — known as the ADDE Act — a bill aimed at transforming dining experiences for people with food allergies. Originally, the proposal sought to require all restaurants in the state to label the nine major allergens directly on their menus. Drawing national attention, this was set to become the most comprehensive law of its kind in the US.

However, by the time SB 68 reached Governor Gavin Newsom’s desk in September, the bill had been significantly scaled back. It now only applies to restaurant chains with 20 or more locations—effectively mirroring a federal standard many large chains already voluntarily follow. The weakening of this landmark bill highlights challenges in advocacy, internal politics, and the strong influence of the restaurant lobby.

According to an article in Eater titled “A California Senator Introduced a Groundbreaking Restaurant Allergen-Labeling Bill—Then Everyone Tried to Kill It,” at the center of the controversy was Food Allergy Research & Education (FARE), the nation’s most prominent food allergy nonprofit. FARE’s mission states it “works tirelessly to promote practices, policies, regulations, and laws” for Americans with food allergies, yet its stance on SB 68 shifted multiple times during the legislative process.

The bill had deeply personal roots, inspired by Robyn Huey Lao and her daughter Addie, who has life-threatening allergies. Following a rare positive experience at a restaurant with allergen labeling in the UK, they worked with California State Senator Caroline Menjivar to craft similar statewide legislation. SB 68 was the outcome.

Early on, Ms Lao sought help from advocacy groups like FARE. She quickly connected with Jason Linde, FARE’s then-senior vice president for advocacy, who offered strategic support. Jonathan Cane, who previously served as FARE’s creative director and head of marketing, called Linde “a saint—just a good dude who cares passionately about the community.” Yet tensions existed between Linde and FARE’s CEO, Dr Sung Poblete. According to Eater, the two “were at loggerheads from day one.”

Under Poblete, who joined the organization in 2022, FARE appeared to place more emphasis on revenue growth — rebuilding the nonprofit’s financial base after a “decade of dwindling resources.” Meanwhile, Linde pushed to continue grassroots advocacy work, sometimes at odds with fundraising optics.

The organization did not share Linde’s commitment to SB 68, and after allegedly making promises of support without the leadership’s approval, he abruptly resigned along with a staffer. This left the bill without FARE’s input at a critical time. To fill the gap, Poblete hired outside lobbying support, including Capitol 6 Advisors (led by a former NRA lobbyist) and a California firm called Platinum Advisors, paying them tens of thousands of dollars.

A series of puzzling moves followed. FARE unexpectedly allied with the California Restaurant Association (CRA) to oppose SB 68. Together, they issued a joint letter criticizing the bill as too “rigid,” instead favoring “dynamic” digital allergen tools over static menu disclosures. Around this time, FARE also announced a partnership with EveryBite, a tech platform for digital allergen menus — raising questions about conflicts of interest.

FARE denied any financial ties to EveryBite, but the optics raised concerns. “The shifting message was difficult for me to square,” wrote journalist Alex Shultz for Eater, “considering that labeling allergens on restaurant menus is overwhelmingly popular among people with allergies.”

In an effort to address mounting backlash over FARE’s shifting position, the organization held a virtual town hall on April 16, attended by roughly 120 participants. Among the attendees was Zoë Slaughter, a vocal food allergy advocate from Kentucky, who later said she sensed a “lack of compassion” from CEO Sung Poblete during the meeting. Another participant, Brian Hom, whose son died from anaphylaxis in 2008, spoke directly to Poblete, telling her he is both a parent in the allergy community and a restaurant owner, and said he didn’t believe adding allergen labels would be burdensome for restaurants. Poblete, he recalled, repeatedly defended her stance, stating “it’s not the right way to go.” The transcript of this town hall was never made public, with FARE stating it was never intended for broad release. The meeting, however, did nothing to assuage critics.

FARE reversed its position again, offering “support if amended.” They lobbied for less strict requirements: longer deadlines for implementation, fewer penalties, and narrower enforcement. Said Sen Menjivar:

It was confusing for me to get amendments from [FARE] that were… for restaurants. The actual restaurant association wasn’t even asking for those amendments.

The result was that many advocates felt FARE had become an obstacle rather than an ally.

Even after the bill was amended to apply only to major chains, FARE remained disengaged: refusing to sign a final support letter and canceling a meeting with Robyn Huey Lao just before the legislative vote.

Senator Menjivar, the bill’s author, was blunt in her critique:

I’m not going to give [FARE] a cookie just for doing what their whole organization is intended to do. I think it’s just obviously in their benefit now to be supportive of legislation that, if passed, drastically improves the lives of millions of people.

The final SB 68 passed with little opposition but is expected to have far less impact than initially anticipated. While it brings allergen labeling to a segment of California’s restaurant industry, the vast majority of eateries will remain unaffected. At the time of this writing, the legislation is awaiting the governor’s signature.

For allergy advocates, it was a hard-won but somewhat hollow victory. A bill that began as a beacon of hope for families like the Lao’s has become a symbol of how even well-intentioned policies can be derailed by internal dysfunction and corporate interests.

The key takeaway? As one advocate told us, “This was a once-in-a-decade chance. And it slipped through our fingers.”