This is what it's like to spend an entire night at Canter's Deli
An intrepid writer holes up at Fairfax’s 87-year-old Canter’s Deli overnight.
When I opted to spend an entire night inside Fairfax’s famous Canter’s Deli, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. After all, as Frank Lloyd Wright put it, “Tip the world over on its side, and everything loose will land in Los Angeles”—and the dinette has been slinging midnight latkes since 1931 to jetlagged tourists, teens pushing curfew, post-concert rock stars, industry heavyweights and every Angeleno in between. Who craves gefilte fish at four in the morning? How does the staff handle the long, dark night shift? And, most pressingly, when and how does a 24/7 restaurant get cleaned? I coaxed a night owl dining companion to join me and, over the course of seven hours, find out what it’s like overnight at Canter’s.
At 11pm on a Friday night, Canter’s is busy with millennial couples snapping photos of each others’ onion rings, aging rocker types with leather jackets slung over the backs of their chairs and a demographic I dub “the dad crowd”—lovers of baseball caps and pastrami sandwiches, who arrive with families of four and don’t need to look at the deli’s multi-page menu before ordering. A few dads come in pairs, ostensibly for late-night industry meetings. Over the course of the evening, I become more and more sure that Canter’s is the perfect place to write that screenplay you’ve been putting off: it’s comfortable, steeped in L.A. culture and thus inspiring, and, I’d soon learn, graveyard quiet a