Canter's Deli

Talkin' Turkey in The Kibitz Room

The best experiences in life are organic. Unplanned, unscripted, and unadulterated by curation or choreography. 

So, if you ever find yourself being driven in the backseat of a Mercedes while drunk on Santa Monica Boulevard, you must accept any detours on your journey.

When a vehicle pulls alongside, you may expect to be shot or at least robbed, and then you may hear a voice calling your name as the tinted window slides down. Do not act surprised when an old high school friend somehow recognized you through the window - go with it. Serendipity is one of the many gifts of the City of Angeles.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Cheeseburger. Apple Pan."

"No, F that. Follow me."

We comply, follow my friend's vehicle down Fairfax, and park in front of Canter's Deli. 

At this point in the story, I should mention that my mother was driving the Mercedes while my father was riding a shotgun. This would make sense if we had been kids at the time. But we were middle-aged men and remanded to the back seat for poor decision-making. My friends and I had overindulged in red wine and demanded medicinal grease.

If you ever stand beneath the Canter's sign at night, you will feel the City at its zenith. Its neon script will recall the Los Angeles of the Rat Pack and all of its  Hollywood glamour. The greenish eerie glow cast on the sidewalk below forms a portal you walk through when you enter as if you're stepping back in time.

Jewish Deli cuisine is one of the significant contributions Jews have made to humanity. Institutions like Katz's or the Carnegie Deli, with menus filled with Brisket,  Pastrami on Rye, and Matzo Ball Soup, have linked the fare forever to New York City, but Los Angeles is in the same arena.

The story of the rise of Los Angeles is also very much the story of Jewish America. The moguls who built Hollywood were primarily Jews fleeing the cold weather and antisemitism of the East. They came West seeking opportunity, sunshine, and assimilation. It's disheartening that this BS is still happening, as the famous Canter's sign was recently tagged with anti-Semitic graffiti. 

In LA today, we have several Jewish deli options. Langer's, Factor's, and Art's are all in contention for the food, but none hold the cachet of a late night at Canter's.

Canter's pulled up to its location in 1953 and has yet to look back. It started in Boyle Heights in 1931, which was a predominantly Jewish neighborhood back then. The new location was so successful that the family expanded next door in 1959, which would morph into a lounge they called the Kibitz Room in the 1960s. Kibitz has different meanings in Yiddish, but one of them is chitchat. The Kibitz Room is a complete cocktail lounge, with the Canter's menu served in the same booths where Guns N' Roses drank and ate, and today, Rock N' Roll royalty still frequents it. The small stage, described by the LA Times as a "small, dirty ledge the size of a walk-in closet," has seen sets from "Joni Mitchell, the Wallflowers, Fiona Apple, the Vacation, Rick James, members of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and many more [who] have played informal shows that have turned into free-wheeling jam sessions (LA TIMES)."

A sandwich is the best thing you can order at Canter's after a night of drinking. If you order the Fairfax - hot corned beef and pastrami (together!), beware it's piled high like a Jenga tower, and newcomers may find it challenging. If you want to get decadent, Canter's still offers a Monte Cristo sandwich - turkey, ham, and Swiss on Challah egg bread, dipped in egg and fried like french toast. Are you kidding me? The potato salad as a side is basically crack, and you'll want an extra order to take home.

So we sat with my friend, who had a friend with him, on that LA evening. His buddy had just returned home from the war in Afghanistan, and he was keeping an eye on him. My friend is a veteran and does a lot of work with and for vets wounded in body and soul.

My parents were quite interested in the service of these men, and the conversation flowed loudly and freely. If I recall correctly, we were there in late October, and the conversation turned to Thanksgiving. I asked my buddy to tell my mother about his expertise in roasting a turkey. A special technique he picked up overseas.

"Well, ma'am, I learned this method when I was stationed at a CIA Safe House about two clicks from the Packi border."

He described a laborious process of cleaning the turkey, inside and out, using Kosher salt as a scrub.

My mother, always skeptical, was unconvinced that this would be worth the additional labor. 

My friend assured her, "Ma'am, cooking a turkey is like making love - everyone's got an opinion on how to do it, but there's only one right way."

My mother, a God-fearing woman if there ever is one, replied coyly, "Now honey, that's just not true, is it?"

The point of an institution is to resist change. Fourth and fifth-generation Canter family members still own Canter’s. The glass bakery cases, the vinyl booths, and the menu that has scarcely changed are all a testament to its iconic status along with its famed art deco "autumn leaves" ceiling.

Just go.

Canter's Deli

417 N Fairfax Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90036

Open 24 hours (Dine-In until 11:30 PM)

(323) 651-2030