Newsletter #6
A Farewell to Papa Cristo's
Hello diner enthustiasts,
The hits just keep coming. As we know, Papa Cristo’s closed its doors for the last time this past Sunday, May 4th. The Diner Preservation Society was on the scene—thanks to all those who came, even if we were somewhat dispersed by the long line. Fearing a Pantry-esque situation, where I had to wait 7 hours in line to step foot in the place, I arrived at Papa Cristo’s around 8am, where about 5 people were waiting ahead of me. So, I got a pastry and a cup of coffee, got back in line, and waited for the crew to show up. But the line moved even more quickly than estimates by the staff suggested, because I had to get in line again, and even then, I was at the counter ordering by noon. All of this to say, I do apologize to those who showed up maybe slightly after 12:00PM and couldn’t order with the rest of us. I promise, our next meetup—which incidentally will be at Du-Par’s at the Farmer’s Market on Saturday, June 21st at midnight (they’re running a late-nite blue plate special promotion that we should take advantage of!)—will be less chaotic. And by the way, if you weren’t at Papa Cristo’s on Sunday, I had the first issue of the Diner Theory zine available for purchase, only $7! You can purchase it at our next meeting, or on my Patreon.
I will miss Papa Cristo’s. I will admit, I am not Greek, and only started coming to Papa Cristo’s in my adult life. I did not grow up with it, I don’t have the wealth of memories that I heard some longtime customers share on that final day. But I do recognize how valuable the place was for being the kind of community anchor that can inspire such memories. Papa Cristo’s was truly unique. It’s the kind of old-world ethnic market that LA used to have, but I’ve mostly only seen still thriving in New York. That made it one-of-a-kind in 2025. Where else can you get retsina, the funky Greek wine infused with pine tree resin? Or “Greek salami,” or imported kefalograviera cheese? Where else can I find such a wealth of even more commonly available Greek items all in one place? It was an absolute haven for anyone interested in making authentic Greek food at home.
Sure, their restaurant was also pretty good, but there are plenty of Greek restaurants in the Valley that match or exceed its quality. What made Papa Cristo’s so unique was that it cultivated a little pocket universe of everything Greek. It was authentic enough for little old ladies and Greek Orthodox priests to seek it out for obscure specialties, but warm and inviting enough that anyone could feel comfortable shopping around or asking Chrys or his daughters for advice on how to execute the perfect moussaka. Even more recent residents of the neighborhood, which had long ago lost its Greek majority, giving way to a community of mostly Central American immigrants and their families, many of whom were standing alongside me in line. Papa Cristo’s wasn’t just a relic of a lost neighborhood, which would have made it a landmark on its own. It remained a vibrant, organic, and essential part of its neighborhood, known as the Byzantine-Latino Quarter.
And of course, Chrys Chrys was the brilliant light at the center of this little universe. He is a gregarious and unmistakable character, willing to chat with anyone and give a little hug at their departure. His passion for food is evident just by looking at what he had grown here. Little handwritten notes here and there gave tips or helpful insight about some of the store’s products. He sincerely wished to share what he saw as the universal greatness of Greek cuisine. And he made it approachable: don’t have time to make spanakopita from scratch? Papa Cristo’s made them frozen to reheat at home. Who can forget his legendary, all-you-can-eat Sunday BBQ, so affordable for many years. And for those who truly want to soak in as much Hellenic majesty as they could handle, for many years there was the Thursday night Big Fat Greek Feast, featuring music and belly-dancing (sadly, these feasts stopped after COVID).
The kind of place that inspires the sort of devotion people had for Papa Cristo’s cannot exist without such an energetic visionary at the helm. I feel sad for the circumstances that led to Papa Cristo’s closure—greedy landlords, essentially, like so many others—but Chrys’ attitude toward the whole thing is admirable. While he intended to stay in that location “forever,” he recognizes that he is getting old, and his family have their own lives to live. I spoke with him personally, and he told me that he wants to go out in a “dignified” way rather than try to fight it. It is a more-or-less natural end for such a great run. Papa Cristo’s will live on as an online store, though that isn’t quite the same, of course. But the physical store lived a long, rich life that anyone would be proud of. And as much as I try to fight this fact every day of my life, nothing can last forever.
I can accept this fate for Papa Cristo’s. There are worse fates it could have met. But that doesn’t mean we should not remain vigilant. As I said before, Papa Cristo’s was one of a kind. There is now nothing like it at all in the city of Los Angeles, and there isn’t anything on the way to fill its place. In that sense, LA is objectively less rich, less diverse, and less spectacular in some small but very real way. So we must continue to fight for every single one of these classic institutions. We cannot save all of them, but even a single one saved through our efforts is a victory for history and culture. Lord knows our city’s leaders have no interest in preserving these places.
But anyway, that’s all for now. I hope to see you all at Du-Par’s in June, and please, if you’d like to contribute to the fight for preservation of LA’s traditional food culture, consider signing up for my Patreon! It comes with cool features and exclusives, serves to fund printing zines and other DPS merch, and over time, I hope to have a small treasury that can be used for more substantial preservation efforts. But that can only happen with your support. Times are tough, I know, but if we want these places to be there for us when times are better, we have to be there for them now.
—Diner Theory