The Glory That is Burbank: Doughnut Hut

Posted on March 18, 2007 by Kiki Maraschino

5. DOUGHNUT HUT

For years my friends have been urging me to visit the Doughnut Hut. It is apparantly some kind of mecca for cinnamon roll affecianados. I managed to resist the urge, because I do avoid doughnuts unless they suddenly pounce upon me when I am weak and unsuspecting. Another reason is the Doughnut Hut’s sign – it is just plain cheesy. What’s missing? U! But then one morning, my husband brought home a bag of the lightest, softest doughnuts, risen to have the perfect crumb. They are larger than the average doughnut that is cranked out by cookie-cutter (doughnut cutter?) chains, but they are so fresh that it’s impossible to pick one up without leaving a noticable dent. The Doughnut Hut still follows the charming tradition of the “baker’s dozen”, even tossing an extra doughnut into the pink box when I only order a half-dozen. Now I am a fan and a convert. I love the Doughnut Hut. There goes my girlish figure. 10544 Magnolia Boulevard, Burbank.

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The Glory That is Burbank: The Boot Car

Posted on March 17, 2007 by Kiki Maraschino


4. The Boot Car

Need I say more? The boot car can be found parked on the South side of Verdugo, behind the strip mall between Hollywood Way and Pass Ave.

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The Glory That is Burbank: Wienerschnitzel

Posted on March 17, 2007 by Kiki Maraschino


3. Our Wienerschnitzel sells beer.


The Wienerschnitzel that stands kitty-corner from NBC studios, where they film the Tonight Show sells Budweiser/Michelob on tap starting at 7am. Maybe if Johnny Carson had known that he would not have been so snarky. The site’s previous tenant, a Kenny Rogers Roaster’s simply passed on its liquor license when the restaurant was franchised by the ubiquitous red and orange hot dog stands. The manager told me that there is also a Carl’s Jr. somewhere in East L.A. that serves beer, but he didn’t know the exact location.


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The Glory That is Burbank: Googie

Posted on March 17, 2007 by Kiki Maraschino

During the 50s and 60s, America fell in love with the space age. A cartoonishly futuristic style of architecture know as “googie” started springing up in response. Famous examples of googie architecture are the Space Needle in Seattle, the Capitol Records building in Hollywood and LAX’s theme building (currently the Encounter Restaurant and Bar). This architectural style, also known as “populuxe” and “doo wop” was especially popular in coffee shops and signage. Which brings us to the next item on my list of Burbank favorites:

2. Googie signage

The googie style, typified by arrows, starbursts, boomerangs, atomic symbols and geometric shapes, explored the use of curves and angles in a new way. The undeniable appeal of its shiny steel, bright colors and modern typestyles is timeless, although googie’s charm has seen a recent resurgance in popularity. Hopefully that wave of nostalgia will guarantee that these signs will be valued enough to remain part of the urban landscape for many years to come.

PHOTO UP SOON

Bob’s Big Boy 4211 Riverside Drive

Samuel’s Florist 921 W. Olive Avenue

Safari Inn 1911 West Olive

Gilbert’s Quality Cleaners 409 N Glenoaks

Monte Carlo Deli and Pinochio’s 3103 W Magnolia

The Stardust Cafe 6720 San Fernando Road (The sign has been restored to the point of overkill but it still holds its cool iconic shape)


Want to get involved in saving classic signage?

http://modcom.org/

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Ode to the Glory that is Burbank: Bob’s

Posted on March 16, 2007 by Kiki Maraschino


I know Burbank has gotten its share of grief, from everyone from the late Johnny Carson to yours truly. Burbank’s “downtown” area is one big mess of chain everything. The remainder of Burbank is a quiet wasteland of well-tended front yards and moribund shopfronts. It is a town populated by a strange mix of senior citizens and blue-collar workers from the studios (The real studio players live over the hill, or increasingly in Studio City, Toluca Lake and Sherman Oaks). It makes for an interesting demographic. One of the beauties of neglected neighborhoods is that many of the old places and signs that would normally have been torn down to make way for Starbucks survive.

Here are some of Burbank’s gems:


1. Oldest surviving Bob’s Big Boy.

When we had a Bob’s Big Boy in every neighborhood, I always thought of it like Denny’s. It was just another chain joint where I could smoke, drink coffee, and read beatnik literature. There were no coffeehouses in the 80s. Not outside of Greenwich Village, anyways. Bob’s Big Boy served that purpose, and on the more lurid side, it also had waiters that dealt cocaine. It was the 80s after all.

It wasn’t until I started getting into restaurant forums that I discovered the collective nostalgia for Bob’s, which has nearly disappeared off the national map. Here in Burbank, we have the oldest surviving Bob’s Big Boy. As a bonus, it was designed by architect Wayne McCallister and foreshadows the coming googie style. People often wonder about the mysterious neon number 49 that glows on the front wall. It is simply the year the restaurant opened: 1949.

The current owners, who bought the restaurant in 1993, have reinstated carhop service on Friday and Saturday nights. But the real star here is the Super Big Boy Combo, a study in nostalgia. They start you off with a shockingly crisp iceberg lettuce salad topped with one of their their thick, creamy house dressings. The salad is followed by the classic cheeseburger-fries-coke combination. Some people claim that Bob’s invented the very first double-decker burger for this combo. It vaguely resembles a Big Mac, with a strange chow-chow-like relish, super-soft bun and superthin patties. But somehow it is greater than the sum of its parts. Sprinkle some of the house seasoning salt on your fries, and eavesdrop on all of the old people as they stop at each other’s tables to inquire, “How did the blood tests go?”

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Mr Cecil’s Ribs

Posted on March 16, 2007 by Kiki Maraschino

Yesterday I was driving home along Ventura Blvd looking for a place to stop for lunch. I noticed Mr Cecil’s California Ribs, a satellite of its main location on Pico. It was pretty empty for lunch rush, with about 3 tables full, one server and one cook. The music was great – Bowie and the Violent Femmes. I asked the server about it and she said it was her I-Pod. Great stuff. The interior was a combination of that hip industrial look from the late 80s, with exposed ductwork and a silver swirly overhang above the small open kitchen, mixed with a kind of “country” charm. I perversely liked that the walls were decorated with large photographs of adorable pigs and cows, Like, “We are so cute and happy. Admire the wonder of our being while gnawing on our bones.”

The server was really friendly and helped me make my selections. I liked that she encouraged me to get the giant 20-dollar sampler platter if that was what I wanted, in spite of it clearly being way too much food. No judgement here. I opted instead for the catfish bites, with a side of baby back ribs and cornbread. I like that you can order a side of almost anything on the menu, including ribs.

The catfish bites were disappointingly tiny, more like catfish nibbles. In that arena, Stevie’s plump nuggets totally kick their ass. But they were delicious, non-greasy, and came with an unusual tartar sauce. It didn’t seem to have visible pickle or relish, but was full of some kind of chopped green herb. It was too mild to be recognizable – Parsley? I asked the server what was in the tartar sauce. She asked the cook. She returned, offering, “Bacos, jalapenos, cilantro and anchovies.’ What? What what what? I asked, “Bacos? Like bacon bits?” She said, “I guess.” We both looked over to the cook, who was watching our exchange and shrugged good-naturedly at me. It made me think how genius it would be if they just got tired of everyone asking for ingredients, and just started rattling off strange, random items. “Uh, yeah, it has ketchup, sesame oil, peanut butter and Campbell’s cream of celery soup.” If those were really the ingredients, they are masters at balancing flavors.

The ribs were just what you would expect…if I had been craving ribs I would be satisfied. But they were not a spectacular life-changing experience, like, “I must return here for ribs fortnightly for the rest of my life.” The cornbread confused me. Usually you have a kind of dry, crumbly, cast-iron cornbread or a cake-like sweet cornbread. Cecil’s has the texture of a cake, but no sweetness at all. It was kind of disconcerting.

I would definitely go back if it were in my neighborhood, or if I were driving past again. But it does not warrant a special trip.


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