Johnny Rockets Is Blasting Off to the ‘50s

You can barely get in the door at Johnny Rockets, a ‘50s hamburger parlor as spic and span as a new De Soto. What is it that’s so magical about this place?

It can’t be the food . . . sure, the burgers are good, big and sloppy, and smothered with things your mother wouldn’t even let you bring in the house. And it can’t be the service . . . a bunch of wisecracking kids in white uniforms with perpetually silly smiles on their faces.

In fact, it can’t even be the music, as great as it is . . . all the hits from the Fabulous ‘50s, playing continuously on nickel jukeboxes. No, there’s something magical about this place all right, something that keeps people coming back again and again, as if they were under some sort of spell.

I mean, there are only 20 seats, 20 red counter seats, but there must be about 50 people in there every time I pass by. There they are, lined up to eat those burgers, and drink those chocolate malts and vanilla Cokes, and everybody’s smiling and having a good time. Even the kids. Those kids don’t even remember the ‘70s. How come they’re having such a good time?

Maybe it’s the food. Johnny Rockets uses steak trimmings in their hamburger meat, and they have fresh cut French fries with homemade chili. When was the last time you had a cherry Coke or a strawberry malt?

Just look at these people. Punkers from the Valley. Tourists from Ohio. Even Japanese tourists. Japanese tourists taking notes and making sketches of the premises.

Maybe it’s the service. I mean, this waiter’s just a scream. He’s demonstrating how to pour catsup. You now, the thick kind that doesn’t come out of the bottle no matter how hard you shake it. “Stick a knife in it and break up the air pockets,” he says. That’s the trick. These guys are too much. Now they’re getting the whole restaurant, customers and all, to sing “Happy Birthday to You” to some poor 19-year-old named Andrea. You can’t even hear Sam Cooke singing “You Send Me.”

Sandy Bettleman brings his family from Beverly Hills because he likes the hamburgers, and his kids are crazy about the French fries with chili. Missy Richgels, a Pitney-Bowes rep from Glendale, is here with her sister from Columbus, to show her the real Los Angeles. Doug Cook is an actor, and he likes to hang out here because a lot of industry people do, too. They can’t all be wrong.

Johnny Rockets is the brainchild of Ronn Teitelbaum, a Los Angeles entrepreneur making his debut in the restaurant business. Auspicious debut, Ronn. Ronn is planning another Johnny Rockets in Beverly Hills at the moment, and bigger things are ahead.

Johnny Rockets, 7507 Melrose Ave., Los Angeles, (213) 651-3361.