One of the delights of starting the day at midnight this past week as been to take a 3am breakfasts at Izzy’s Deli on Wilshire. The diner is straight out of NYC from its oversized pastrami on rye and photos of every famous customer whose ever walked through the door. Actually I’m not it they’re depicting everyone famous person whose ever walked through these doors but in the local venacular, like, whatever. The real draw for me is that the diner is highly condusive to people watching – plenty of low backed booths, options for diagonal seating and near to middle distance lines of sight. A TV is on in the background and a sports channel projects the play of the day – the volume is turned down and conversations drift over.
Izzy’s is the cultural equivilent to the 24 hour bagel bakery in Dalston Market or its Brick Lane equivilents – not the physical space which is very different, but the the fact that the non-stop opening hours extends their client base beyond normal parameters pullling in a cross section of night-owl society. Club bouncers coming off shift and drunk and somewhat flirty sophmores (the volume of which suggests that a college dorm is nearby). “The guy’s the biggest vagina of all time” confers a male diner to his female friends sitting behind me and to my right a gentleman in a carefully cocked hat outlines a business deal to two associates. At the counter a police officer waits for a take-out and kills time by passing pleasantries with the night manager
At some point someone decided that each dish on the menu would be associated with a person: there’s Morris’s cold fish plates; Jule’s individually sized pizza; Rabbi Reuben’s corned beef on rye and Elaine’s incredible chilli. Did Maya and Ara’s really put together the childrens menu? Would the chef’s salad really not taste as good without the input of Emile Kay? Is the chopped liver plate put together just how Glady’s liked it? And would Luba’s shrimp salad really taste the same without, well, Luba? Its a high noise to signal ratio when you’re trying to order breakfast.
Make a mental note to visit the next door Tehran Market during regular opening hours but never do. I’m now in Portland EPIC starts in a few hours and no sign of a local late night diner.