Newsletter #7

On losing Cole's French Dip

Hey diner enthusiasts!

Thanks to all who came out for a last get together at Cole's before they close. I wish we could be together under happier circumstances; beyond just being sick of my favorite restaurants closing, I've just about had it with waiting in multi-hour lines as I squeeze in alongside the entire city of Los Angeles just for the restaurant to be out of half the menu.

Still, I'm happy to do it for the club, and a good time was had by all at Cole's. We even made some new friends, and ran into some fans of Diner Theory who didn't even know we would be there! Plus I think I found my new favorite sandwich at the 11th hour; pastrami dip with American cheese. If you're a fan of The Hat or Johnnie's Pastrami but you want a slightly more elevated product, along with a classic cocktail, Cole's is mighty fine.

Now I think it goes without saying that the loss of Cole's is devastating in a number of respects. More than most other places, it felt like there was just no way that it wouldn't always be there, possibly because it is literally LA's oldest continuously operating restaurant (Philippe's is technically just a few months older, but they aren't in their original location like Cole's is).

Cole's is of course located in the Pacific Electric Building, once the central terminal of the Red Car system, once the most extensive urban public transit system in the world. It's also located at the edge of Skid Row, which was created in its modern form largely as a result of the construction of the freeway fortress around downtown that ultimately vanquished the Red Car lines. In that way Cole's particularly embodies the lost potential and arguably unfortunate turning points in LA history.

In that way, it's a little miraculous that Cole's survived as long as it did. Historic building aside, it's not in the most glamorous or inviting corner of downtown, and parking is challenging even without calculating the probability of your windows getting smashed. It's also just a site of concentrated abject human misery, which is jarring and gut-wrenching for a place like Cole's that supposedly depends on tourist foot traffic.

And yet, Cole's was something of a refuge from the harsh realities of the urban metropolis, particularly, in a historical view, to those on the fringes of society. I've already written at length about why this made Cole's a place of such immense value to the culture of Los Angeles, which you can read about over at LA Taco. But even just on a personal level, Cole's became something of a regular spot for me in recent years. It wasn't the cheapest place in town, but it did offer deals periodically that kept it pretty competitive with more budget-friendly joints. Plus, it managed to balance modern comforts with vintage panache. It was a bar that appealed to hipsters, and yet really committed to the fundamentals in a way that even most dive bars have let fall to the wayside as the 21st century lurches on. No flatscreen TVs or glaring LED TouchTunes boxes here.

But the modern iteration of Cole's presented by the Pouring With Heart hospitality group was not without some elements that make me hesitant to heap the highest praises on the place. It aimed at an old Victorian saloon kind of vibe, which isn't totally incongruent with the era that birthed Cole's, but it's executed in a style that was particularly prevalent in the late 2000s. There's a line to be drawn between the red paisleys at Cole's and the design aesthetic of The Edison or various craft cocktail bars of the late Bush years, not unlike The Varnish, Cole's very own speakeasy located in the back room of the bar. I've always found this aesthetic kind of tacky, sort of like the natural evolution of the early-mid 00s Tuscan aesthetic. Cole's isn't too obnoxious about it, but it does take me out of it a bit, something I can't say for the eternally timelessly minimalist Philippe's.

And while I can't argue with the quality of the cocktails, that was never exactly the point at the Cole's of history, which was for decades known for its buffet. And perhaps the buffet was not known for the highest quality food, aside from the French dip, which remained quite popular and revered by the likes of Jonathan Gold deep into its 80s/90s dive bar era. But it had an everyman, come-as-you-are quality to it that isn't really reflected in the $24 sandwiches you can find there nowadays. It was much akin in that regard to Clifton's Cafeteria, which was just a couple blocks away. Plus, there's a certain assurance you get from seeing the food before you put it on your plate, something Philippe's offers by hand-carving the roast beef in full view of those waiting at the counter, not to mention their willingness to show vats of slow-simmered beef broth to any TV crew that happens to wander in. By contrast, the modern version of Cole's hides everything away in the kitchen where, for all we know, the meat could be pre-sliced, the au jus made from a vacuum-pack demi-glace mixed with hot water. I'd like to believe they put in more effort than that, but I admit that's likely just wishful thinking, though I do have sincere praise for their horseradish mustard, which I can confidently say is better than the mustard at Philippe's.

For these reasons there was something of a hollowness to Cole's under PWH's ownership. I wouldn't go so far as to say they used history as a mere gimmick, but it was something of a "hook" they used to prop up their cocktail program. At times it sort of even felt like Cole's was merely a front for their speakeasy The Varnish, evidenced by Cole's closing a mere month after The Varnish. They made an admirable initial thrust in bringing Cole's back from the brink, but in my view, they've been sort of sitting on their laurels since 2007, not really investing in its future or properly honoring its past.

As of now, Cole's is on the market, with no clear candidate emerging as a likely buyer. I think in all probability, it will be purchased, and Cole's will continue on. I have my ideas for how best to run the place of course, but I'm not likely to be consulted on any potential business decisions. I just hope that whoever buys the place really does their best to pay respect to the legacy of such a historic institution, and doesn't just treat it as a momentary cash grab or something that's in need od a radical reinvention. Stick to the fundamentals and a place like this takes care of itself. But with the LA food world in such a precarious place right now, I'm severely apprehensive about the path forward for the old gal.

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Now some housekeeping. I'd like to start adding regular outings to historic bars, particularly dive bars, to the monthly schedule of Diner Preservation Society activities. Unlike our regular, primary meetings, the membership fee that usually covers meals for paid Society members will not cover drinks, so be prepared for that. Otherwise, be prepared to meet up at the Chimneysweep Lounge on Friday, July 25th at 8pm.

As for next month's primary meetup, we will be headed to Nate N Al's in Beverly Hills, which we were supposed to visit this month before news of Cole's closing forced an emergency switchup. Nate N Al's, for those who aren't familiar, is a kosher-style deli/diner that's been serving Hollywood bigwigs and the more elderly residents of 90210 since 1945. It seems to go unnoticed by most deli aficionados, which is surprising because the food is both pretty good and pretty comparable price-wise to other delis in town. Beverly Hills crowds without the Beverly Hills prices. Let's enjoy it while we can, as the old deli is being kicked out so the landlord can knock down the building and replace it with some modern mixed-use filler. We'll be there on Saturday, August 9th at 10am, so mark your calendars!

Until then,

Diner Theory