Restaurants
The title for this story was going to be Eating. Food, eating, markets, and restaurants are constants of life.
A subject worthy of a volume.
Lists were made and more lists of food places. I have to mention Scandia, The Pacific Dining Car, Perino’s, Chasen’s, Philippe’s, Empress Pavilion, dim sum, sushi, falafel, ice cream, Fosselman’s, Langers, Manuel’s, all foods and places that are important to me, a few of those places you’ll find in other stories.
Don’t get me started on food markets
Here, you will find stories about four places. They may not be the most important to me, but they occupy a large place on the menu.
Farmers Market
Started in 1934 as an informal place where farmers could sell directly to the public off their trucks, this was arguably the first urban farmer’s market. Notice in the name the apostrophe was omitted. A year later, in 1935, stalls were built, then shacks were built. A culture was built. I just love this place.
There is a legend that the round, tomato sauce, pepperoni, cheese, pizza, cut and served in wedges, was invented there.
My family took me to Farmers Market since before I can remember. One memorable time, while my aunt, my mom, and my brother were off shopping for clothes, my tio Marcos, my dad, and I ate our way all around the market. Pure gluttonous ecstasy.
When Max turned 18, Farmers Market was where he wanted to go. We ate at many places, and got good food for later that evening. We took a detour into the mall next door, The Grove, and saw that Anthony Bourdain was having a book signing. Max was the last in line to get a book signed. Bourdain mentioned to someone that he was hungry.
“Do you like stinky cheese?” asks Lily. Max and 10 year old Lily shared with him some of the birthday cheeses we bought at the cheese shop in Farmers Market.
There is the fabulous Littlejohn's Toffee House where I have been getting English toffee since I was very young.
The market had for years an extensive juice bar, where I could count on getting my needed carrot juice, and dozens of juices and combinations.
The Farmers Market of my childhood is largely carved away, much of it being used for a shopping center, and the Grove, but it still remains wonderful and comforting, and feels like home.
Tommy’s
Famous for their chili cheeseburger. It began as a shack on the corner of Beverly and Rampart. It was in the parking lot of motorcycle mechanic shops. Riding past on my bicycle, the shack was irresistible. I was around 15 when I asked Tommy, a big Greek guy, how he made his chili. He told me he bought bricks of cheap chili from Smart & Final down the street, and then added fresh tomatoes, and more meat, and more spices.
I asked my dad to take me there, he liked the chili, but he would get it on a hot dog. With friends from school, it became a regular spot.
Tommy bought out the mechanics and the whole corner became Tommy's. Then he opened more places. He now has spots all over California and Las Vegas.
I have hundreds of stories about Tommy’s.
These two may be the most amusing.
@City on fire, time stretch on page. Chino cholos on page
When I was in Copenhagen, at the 400 year-old amusement park known as Bakken, I met a very drunk Danish girl. She was making fun of my LA accent. She said she was hoping to visit L A soon. She said her first stop would be Tommy’s. She said everyone from Los Angeles talked about Tommy’s.
Since Sarah can’t eat gluten, she can’t eat the chili at Tommy’s, and she can’t eat the bun, so I go less than I used to. But the children liked going there. For the last 10 years, sometimes, Lily and I go there and enjoy a chili cheeseburger with extra chili, chili fries, and a milk. Happiness.
Canter’s
On Brooklyn Avenue, just off of Soto, was the original location of Canter‘s Delicatessen. Old man Canter kept that original location running for years. A solid place for a nosh. He also walked the neighborhood. My dad knew old man Canter because my dad’s office was a couple of blocks away.
Mr. Canter's son opened the famous Canter’s Deli on Fairfax on the westside. There is a sign that says they opened the year I was born. Going in with my dad for sandwiches isn't something I remember. But we went very often to the bakery and to the deli and got lots of good things to eat.
When I got to my exploring age, I went to Canter‘s pretty often.
My favorite stories from those years.
They had a little counter hidden in the middle of the dining room. There were maybe 4 or 5 stools there in this little area. One late night I ordered my favorite, some kreplach soup, pastrami and chopped liver on a Kaiser roll, and a Cell-Ray.
An old man sitting two seats for me, starts talking to me in Yiddish. I told him that I didn’t understand. He gave me a lecture... Remember where you’re from and remember your people and keep these things in your mind and in your heart, and language is important, the language of your people must be kept and remembered in your heart. When he took a breath, I told him that I wasn’t Jewish, but I was Mexican American. So, he asks me, So, you speak Spanish? No not really, says I, at which point he once again went into the same lecture on remembering the language of your people in your heart…
When I met Suzi, she was managing a movie theater on Hollywood Blvd, and she would get out of work at midnight or 1:00. We often would go to Canter‘s. In fact, we went often enough that the waitresses got to know us. They knew us well enough to ask, The usual?
I once had a very Hollywood experience at Canters. The only time anything close to this ever happened to me in this town. I was there with my cousins Alex and Paul after midnight. The waitresses greeted me by name. We’re sitting there and an Israeli friend with an outrageous accent comes over to our booth and schmoozes a little bit. A little later an acquaintance comes over. There was another friend at another booth and I go and say hello. Walking back, right in front of our booth, the writer/comedian Chuck McCann is squeezing by, and he says something that makes us laugh.
All this impressed the hell out of my cousins.
More recently, Ken the Saxman, our friend at the Hollywood Bowl, often busks outside of Canter’s in the winter months. Max, who has known Ken since birth, always stops for a visit.
Sarah
Sarah and I just now talked about this subject. With Sarah, it has been an adventure exploring the world, finding places to get food, and places to eat. Once we took a road trip and eating hundreds of oysters was part of the voyage. Not that we haven’t had favorite places, but they’re a little different. By default, we like to go to In-N-Out if we just want a quick something, but we have our variations beyond Animal Style. We discovered this little hole in the wall Thai place, run by a woman, her mother did all the cooking. It didn’t feel like a restaurant. It felt like eating in someone’s home.
We go to Disneyland every three or four weeks, and eat dinner there. We have discovered lots of wonderful places to eat, much much more interesting than turkey legs, and churros. We often say that the food is so much better than it has to be.
We’ve taken trips to Farmers Market, sometimes just running in to get an Oyster Po’ Boy. Or English toffee.
We look for the perfect shrimp and grits. The search has been from Disneyland to Las Vegas to wherever the road leads.
But Sarah often makes the best shrimp and grits at home.
"First we eat, then we do everything else."
M.F.K. Fisher