What’s on the Menu? In Celebrity-Conscious L.A. It’s Often a Famous Name

Is Tom Lasorda fried mozzarella, escarole and beans, chopped liver or a baseball manager?

It depends on whether you’re seated in a Beverly Hills diner, an elegant Westwood eatery, a Century City deli or the home team dugout at Dodger Stadium.

In Los Angeles, a city where celebrity ranks next to godliness, fame is often measured by the length of one’s limousine. But there is also an emerging culinary standard, a sort of adulation by mastication: At restaurants across the city, actors, ballplayers and politicians are honored on a variety of menus.

In some cases, such as the Robin Williams tongue and bologna triple-decker or the Sylvester Stallone Italian sausage sandwich, the linkage is obvious. Some items are named for stars because they actually frequent the joints and select their favorite dish.

Other fare serves as a sign of the times, a barometer of who is hot and who is not. Take the spicy shrimp and egg salad, served in a Century City deli. It’s otherwise known as the Tom Cruise celebrity club combo.

Politics can also play a part in dubbing the cuisine.

“We had a Mayor Yorty when we started out. But when Mayor Bradley was elected, we put a line through Yorty and stuck in Bradley,” said Bill Cullinane, co-owner of the Substation near USC. “We eventually rotated Bradley out too. It wasn’t worth it. Some customers would say: Why Bradley? Why not someone else?”

Some Contradictions

In certain cases, the naming of food items is fraught with contradictions.

For example, how could the egg salad and chopped liver triple-decker at the Stage Deli in Century City be called the Cher, when it seemingly contained several thousand more calories than the slender screen star noshes in a week? The Cher was recently renamed the Bette Midler.

And how could Tom Lasorda be escarole and beans at Matteo’s Italian restaurant in Westwood but a chopped liver sandwich at the Stage? For that matter, how could the skipper of the World Series champions be chopped liver anywhere?

Joe Ramboldt, local manager of the New York-based deli, isn’t talking. “I don’t want to touch that one,” he said. “But it certainly is not a reflection on the Dodgers’ season.”

With little question, the bulbous baseball manager, who seems never to have met a meal he didn’t like, is the city’s king of restaurant cuisine. Lasorda’s name can be found on menus from Venice to South Pasadena (including in his own two restaurants, Tommy Lasorda’s Ribs and Pasta).

“I’m honored to have such fine dishes named after me,” said Lasorda, who often speaks in saltier language.

Arnold Schwarzenegger, Frank Sinatra and Ronald Reagan are also popular choices to eat.

The lame duck President is a baked ham and Swiss cheese triple-decker at the Legends of Hollywood delicatessen; a liverwurst and bologna triple-decker at the Stage; and a roast beef, ham and American cheese hero at the Substation.

“Most people would consider that the deluxe, a top-ender as opposed to the bologna sub,” Cullinane said. “It had been called the Ralph Nader for a long time. But when Ronald Reagan became President, he took over the Nader.”

Schwarzeneggers include a turkey, liver and salami triple-decker at Legends of Hollywood; a muscle sandwich (No. 518, with avocados, veggies, cheese and mushrooms on whole wheat) at Larry Parker’s Beverly Hills 24-Hour Diner; and a diced ham, shredded Swiss cheese and chopped tomatoes omelet at the Ocean Park Omelette Parlor in Santa Monica.

“The omelet was made up by Arnold Schwarzenegger in 1979, and he used to eat it,” said Tony Casson of the Omelette Parlor chain. “But after we put it on the menu, he stopped ordering it. I don’t know if he was embarrassed about asking for an omelet by his own name.”

Now, Casson says, many other body builders wolf down the Schwarzenegger.

At C.J. Brett’s, a Hermosa Beach sports bar co-owned by Kansas City Royals third baseman George Brett, items are named after Wayne Gretzky, Wade Boggs and the ubiquitous Tommy Lasorda--here, it is littleneck clams in a garlic pesto sauce over linguine.

Yet at Stats sports bar in Culver City, sandwiches are named after teams, not stars.

“The way they trade players these days,” mused chef Don Short, “you’d need to make new menus each month. With free agency, you just can’t afford it.”

At some local hash houses, celebrity status is highly exclusive. Joe’s in Redondo Beach features only two--the John Wayne breakfast and the Rudy’s Special, named after the diner’s 15-year busboy.

“The John Wayne, that’s it for Hollywood people,” declared manager Bob Riddle. “Basically, Joe the owner is a big John Wayne fan. He put pictures of John Wayne on the walls, he imitates him, he claims he served the John Wayne Special to John Wayne. He said John Wayne used to come in here. I don’t know if that’s true or not.”

For the record, the John Wayne ($4.50) is a tortilla covered with home fried potatoes, topped with two eggs, cheese and Spanish sauce and surrounded by sausages.

At Mort’s Palisades Delicatessen, the sole celebrity sandwich memorializes the late comedian Ted Knight, a longtime customer and friend of the management.

“Around here,” said Mort’s co-owner Bobbie Farberow, “we would ask if they want to before we’d name a sandwich. Certain people we have as customers who come in with their families would prefer to be a little anonymous.”

Indeed, in the case of sippable consumer products, the use of famous names can sometimes turn into a sticky issue. Last October, former child star Shirley Temple Black obtained a court order barring Soda Pop Kids, an Encino soft drink company, from marketing a cherry-flavored soda with the name “Shirley T.”

Most people, though, seem thankful to be memorialized on menus.

At the Stage, Ramboldt said, producer Aaron Spelling personally thanked the management. “He said having his name on the menu was the equivalent of winning an Emmy.”

Dick Clark--a turkey triple-decker at the Stage--has no complaints, either. “Turkey is good for you, what can I say,” Clark said. “I’m honored to be in the presence of the Tommy Lasorda chopped liver, but I’m a little disappointed they gave the peanut butter and jelly to David Letterman. It was a close race, I’m sure.”

Of course, none of the Hollywood hotshots have yet reached the pinnacle of gourmet glory--a spot reserved for the likes of beef Wellington, oysters Rockefeller, or the sandwich itself, named after a British earl.