Advertisement

Earthquake: The Long Road Back : ‘The Corned Beef Still Stands,’ and so Will Art’s Deli, Owner Declares : Restaurants: The quake and a gas explosion knock out the popular New York-style eatery. Neighbors and patrons drop by to offer support.

Share
TIMES STAFF WRITER

Art’s Deli was the kind of place where the customers could sign for their bills and movie deals were hatched next to neighborhood romances. The owner was known to take a load off and join his customers for a roast beef, pastrami and Swiss cheese sandwich.

The 37-year-old Studio City restaurant succumbed early Tuesday to the second half of a one-two punch--fire folded in the ceiling 24 hours after the quake crumbled the front wall. Owner Art Ginsburg, who pledged to reopen, estimated the damage from $100,000 to $500,000. Neighbors, patrons and friends turned out to pledge their support and offer condolences. One family wore their Art’s sweat shirts, emblazoned with the owner’s motto: “Every Sandwich Is a Work of Art.”

“Our family had all of it here,” said Mari Devon of Sherman Oaks, who shook her head Tuesday as she surveyed the caved-in ceiling and strewn bits of brick. “Triumphs and tragedies, it was always matzo ball soup at Art’s.”

Advertisement

Twenty-five Los Angeles city firefighters and six fire companies fought the 2:52 a.m. blaze. Fire Capt. Michael Bowman said it appears to have begun in the attic and then ripped through the roof as a result of an earthquake-related gas leak.

“I was sick when they called me,” Ginsburg said. “I cried. I think we all cried. But the sign has been up there since 1957; it’s still up there and it’s going to stay up there.”

Art’s is a family-run establishment with the Formica and Naugahyde atmosphere of a Manhattan deli.

*

The restaurant is managed by Ginsburg’s son and daughter, Harold Ginsburg and Roberta Mitteldorf, but the round, bearded owner is still a fixture. Waiters remember which customers take decaffeinated coffee, and many workers have been there for more than 10 years.

The deli grew up along with the East Coast transplants who populated the executive suites of the San Fernando Valley movie studios. In 1957, Art’s could seat 28 people. Over the years, the deli took over five adjacent Ventura Boulevard storefronts, and was big enough to seat 150 customers and employ 60 people.

Moguls hooked on Art’s triple-decker sandwiches had them flown onto movie locations as far away as Hawaii and Louisiana, Ginsburg said.

Advertisement

During the 1988 screenwriters strike, Ginsburg said, studio executives would call him to find out if the writers were still negotiating; the execs would try to figure out what had happened by evaluating how much food the writers had ordered from Art’s.

*

Years ago, said Barry Reardon, president of Warner Bros. domestic distribution, he spent many a weekend morning tallying movie grosses and then headed to Art’s for breakfast.

Even after rival Jerry’s Deli began siphoning off some of Art’s studio business, Reardon and others stayed loyal. Reardon still has Art’s cater his Monday marketing meetings, he said.

“Most New Yorkers like good delis, and Art’s was the only really good deli out here,” Reardon said. “It’s a shame. We’ve had a long history with Art’s.”

On Tuesday, joggers and other passersby who happened upon the restaurant’s blown-out windows and hanging light fixtures waved and called out to Ginsburg, telling him they would be back when he was ready for them.

Jay and Roz Wolpert and their daughter Heather heard about the fire from friends. Still reeling from their own losses--the family was still without power Tuesday--they came by to see how Ginsburg was holding up. All three wore Art’s sweat shirts as a show of support.

Advertisement

“There are so few things that stay the same in this world,” Wolpert said. “When something like this goes away, it’s very difficult.”

But restaurant workers, who peered in through the windowless front, took hope in the little things that were still in order.

“We’re meant to be here,” said Carol Bryan, Art’s hostess of 17 years, as she appraised the far wall of the restaurant. “Our sandwich pictures on the wall aren’t even crooked!”

Ginsburg agreed.

“The corned beef,” he declared, “still stands.”

Advertisement