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The Early Days of Los Angeles Menus
By: Charles Perry
Charles Perry / Food Historian and President, Culinary Historians of Southern California
Charles Perry is an acclaimed food historian, widely published author, and co-founder of the Culinary Historians of Southern California. From 1978 to 1990, he was a freelance food writer. From 1990 to 2008, he was a staff writer for the Los Angeles Times food section, where he wrote a series of ground-breaking articles examining Southern California food and restaurant history.
The earliest menus date from the Renaissance, but they were not like the menus we know today. They weren’t something for the diner to read—they were lists of all the dishes served at a banquet. Basically, they were instructions to the kitchen staff, though hosts might hang onto them so they could boast how well they had done by their guests.
For a long time, public dining places had no need for menus at all. At inns, taverns, and coaching houses, the food was just whatever the cook was making that day—the table d’hôte, or host’s table—unless the diner had arranged ahead of time for something special. The restaurants that sprang up in Paris at the end of the eighteenth century offered guests a choice of dishes, but originally the alternatives were either announced by the waiter (“Bon soir, I’m Pierre and I’ll be your server,” in effect) or written on a chalkboard known as the carte, hence the expression “a la carte” for individual dishes, not part of a set meal. The first menus written on paper, in the early nineteenth century, were posters, like the menus that some restaurants put in their windows today.
It’s no surprise that such a recent and sophisticated innovation took a long time to reach Los Angeles, which for most of the nineteenth century was a little cattle-ranching town in a remote part of the world. In the days when nearly all buildings in the city were made of adobe, table d’hote service still ruled, both in the tamale shops northwest of the Plaza and the new American places that appeared after the Gold Rush. The earliest restaurant advertisement in the Los Angeles Star, in February of 1855, declared that the Lafayette Restaurant (“formerly the Old American”) offered “meals at all hours by bill of fare.” All that the ad had to say about its cuisine was: “Cakes of all kinds constantly on hand. Partridge, rabbit, and chicken pies.” This was certainly Old American cuisine, because Americans were great pie eaters in the nineteenth century. The cakes would have been unfrosted single-layer pastries, more like the modern-day fruitcake. The rest of the food offered would have depended on the vegetables, fish and other ingredients that were available on a particular day, prepared simply by boiling, roasting, or frying.
The most distinctive feature of Los Angeles dining in the mid-nineteenth century was the prominence of French restaurants. The 1860 census showed that six people with French surnames were running eateries with names such as Restaurant du Commerce and the French-American. At the time, there was a French colony of about six-hundred in Los Angeles, dating back to the early 1830s when two French immigrants began California’s table wine industry just east of where City Hall stands today. Mostly these places served French home cooking—onion soup, coq au vin, salads, omelets and so on—but some eventually aimed higher. In 1870, the restaurant in the Pico House Hotel on the Plaza, run by “French Charlie” Laugier, had a menu written in French, which shows grander aspirations.
It would have been written by hand, because printing was expensive. Until 1886, typesetting was done in a slow, laborious way that had not changed in more than four hundred years. The printer picked individual pieces of type from a case and arranged it in a gallery, inserting metal spacers by hand. Then Ottmar Mergenthaler invented the Linotype machine, which allowed a typographer to enter text by way of a keyboard and made printing much faster and cheaper. Now newspapers could afford to be longer than four or eight pages and, in principle, restaurants could print menus.
The problem was that restaurants offered different dishes from day to day, not to speak of varying ingredients from season to season—printing was still too expensive for menus to change as often as the food did. The best evidence we have of what restaurants were serving in the 1870s through 1890s comes from city directories (Campi’s Italian Restaurant, at 309 N. Main, advertised tagliarini, macaroni, spaghetti, ravioli and risotto alla Milanese; Mrs. Gregg’s Restaurant and Bakery in Boyle Heights boasted that it made ice cream every Sunday) or newspaper advertisements of special menus, such as the Stevenson House’s Christmas dinner.
From the mid-1870s on, about twenty restaurants around town were run by Croatians. Some, such as the earliest one—Marcovich & Toppan’s Italian Restaurant, on the Plaza—served their own Dalmatian cuisine. (Calling it Italian was honest enough, because coastal Croatia cooks much like Venice.) Others opened American-style chop houses and Giovanni Tomich ran a prominent oyster house. Many of these Croatian restaurateurs were very successful; Marcovich and Tomich were still in business in 1900. Jerry Illich, who arrived in 1877 as a penniless sailor, eventually owned the grandest restaurant in town, three stories high and boasting the finest fish and game, but he retained his roots, making a specialty of paste (pasta).
In the 1880s, Los Angeles had made a great leap into modernity. Victor Dol’s Commercial Restaurant, the first in town that didn’t have adobe-style rammed earth floors, opened in 1881. In the next decade, the city would boast twenty-four-hour restaurants and begin to set fashions. The emblematic figure of the time was Al Levy, who started by selling a novel dish, the oyster cocktail, from a pushcart in 1894. Cocktail sauce had been invented in San Francisco a few years earlier, but it was in Los Angeles that diners went crazy for oyster cocktails and spread the fashion around the country, even into Mexico.
By 1897, Levy had opened a “swell [fancy] fish and oyster restaurant” which morphed five years lataer into something even sweller, with marble wainscoting, an orchestra, a refrigerated pantry and a detailed menu which had expanded beyond seafood. It was a menu typical of the beginning of the twentieth century in listing large numbers of dishes by name, without descriptions, because Levy’s customers were familiar with the Victorian-era twelve-course meal. Prohibition would later extinguish this knowledge of old-fashioned haute cuisine, but Levy managed to remain one of the leading restaurateurs in town until his death in 1941.
The next restaurant craze in Los Angeles was the cafeteria, which fed tens of thousands of Angelenos every day in the 1920s. Cafeterias rarely bothered with printed menus, because their food sold itself on its looks as you slid your tray along the rails. However, another sort of restaurant popular in the 1920s typically explored the possibilities of the printed menu to the limit: the theme restaurant.
Theme restaurants, based on creating a fantasy environment, were a specialty in Los Angeles because there were always plenty of out-of-work set designers in Hollywood. But there had been adumbrations of the theme concept even before the film industry came to the City of Dreams. Outstanding was Casa Verdugo, the first upscale Mexican restaurant in town. In 1905, Los Angeles was besotted with the romance of the Days of the Dons, and for more than a decade, Casa Verdugo was the hottest ticket in town. After all, Piedad Yorba, a member of a leading Old California family, ran the place, which was located in a nineteenth-century Glendale adobe and featured rancho-period singing and dancing.
And its menu set the standard for theme restaurant menus that lasted through the Tiki Cuisine madness of the Sixties and beyond. It was shaped like a tamale. Here was a menu that was first cousin to the programmatic architecture that was later considered quintessentially L.A., the restaurants shaped like a hot dog or a derby hat. California crazy menus had been born.
Charles Perry is an acclaimed food historian, widely published author, and co-founder of the Culinary Historians of Southern California. From 1978 to 1990, he was a freelance food writer. From 1990 to 2008, he was a staff writer for the Los Angeles Times food section, where he wrote a series of ground-breaking articles examining Southern California food and restaurant history.