As a reporter entered Patrick’s Roadhouse one morning before Christmas, there could not have been more than a dozen customers occupying the colorful roadside diner along PCH. On a table near the entrance, the piercing sunshine fell on a memoir by Noel Neill, the actress who portrayed Lois Lane on the old ‘Superman’ TV series, who lives nearby and frequents the Santa Monica Canyon diner. Mounted on a wooden beam overhead was a framed 1990 issue of Los Angeles magazine when Patrick’s made the hip list, and an article pointed out that no less than Arnold, Katzenberg, Ovitz, and Kurt and Goldie loved to eat here. Scrawled on the chalkboard was the day’s lunch special: tuna salad quesadilla. At the counter, manager Cherry Gustafson, a gregarious, attractive young woman with a megawatt smile in a black tee, her arms crawling with tattoos, pours a cup of coffee and jokes around with a dreadlocked surfer. On his way out, another customer hits his head on a stretch of fake pearls strung up throughout the front of the restaurant, over the lunch counter and a row of wooden booths painted bright green and adorned with shamrocks. Mixed in with the brick and wood d’cor are statues of lions and a brass deep-sea diver’s helmet, which stares out blankly toward the front entrance. The beads are hard to notice at first amid the cluster of plants, the fake snake, and the ceiling fans hanging overhead. Tinsel snowflakes and other Yuletide decorations added to the crazy visual clutter running down the restaurant’s length. ‘I don’t know if it’s very Christmas-y,’ Gustafson admitted regarding the plastic pearls, ‘but I just put it up.’ This was just a typical morning at Patrick’s, an inexpensive, informal breakfast and lunch destination amid a two-block district of pricey restaurants. Except in a legal sense, this was not. It was Friday, December 18, the day after the eviction date for Patrick’s had expired; the result of a complicated landlord dispute between Anthony Fischler, from whom owner Silvio Moreira sublets on a month-to-month basis, and M & M Investments, from whom Fischler leases. A December 21 Los Angeles Times article further suggested in-fighting between Fischler and his siblings over management of the property. And on this date, observing Gustafson’s upbeat, outsized personality and the mountain of home fries sizzling on the kitchen grill, there was absolutely no sense of impending closure. On Tuesday morning this week, Patrick’s was still standing. Elvis crooned ‘That’s All Right, Mama’ over the speakers as Moreira was hands on, refilling beverages, serving entrees and answering phones. Wearing a t-shirt, faded jeans and a hoody, the youthful Moreira could easily be mistaken for one of his customers, and he appeared at home among his regulars. ‘There are real people here,’ said the Culver City resident. ‘Everybody’s welcome here. I price it so that the plumbers, the street workers can eat here, people who love to surf. I welcome everybody.’ A call came in. After a long pause, Moreira replied, ‘I appreciate your support.’ It’s been like this for the past few weeks, and Moreira said he was appreciative of the community outpouring, not to mention impressed with how savvy some customers were regarding the particulars of his situation, which has been well-chronicled by various media outlets. So where does the situation stand this week? ‘We’re on a holding pattern,’ said Moreira, who is waiting for a court date later this month when all parties will go before a judge to resolve the matter. Moreira said the uncertainty of the situation has been hard on him and his staff. For now, he will carry on, business as usual, and he added that Patrick’s will certainly remain open through January. Back in the 1940s, the Patrick’s Roadhouse site was occupied by the 10-unit Entrada Motel and its adjoining diner (four booths, stools and a takeout counter for the beach crowd). Roy and Dody Colburn purchased a one-quarter share of the business in 1948, named the diner Roy’s Coffee Shop, and later started their own line of custom-made beachwear (known today as Roy’s Custom Sportswear). According to oft-told lore, Patrick’s original owner, Bill Fischler, patronized Roy’s one day in 1974 while on a beach visit with his four boys. When he complained to Roy about the quality of his burgers, the owner (eager to retire) suggested that Fischler could buy the place and make his own burgers. So Fischler handed the owner $100 and, the next day, began operating the diner, which he renamed Patrick’s after his youngest son. Today, Patrick Fischler works in Hollywood as a character actor. Moreira, a native of Portugal, came to work at Patrick’s 18 years ago to when he was a Santa Monica College student. After waiting at the restaurant for many years under Bill Fischler, Moreira assumed ownership from Bill’s son, Anthony, by 2005 after Bill’s daughter, Tracey, had become overwhelmed with running it. Bill Fischler died in 1997. ’I’ve had so many great little moments here,’ Moreira said. ‘I’ve met so many high-profile people’senators and congressmen, entertainment people. I’ve seen a lot of celebrities come in here without make-up. Major writers and entertainment people. I’ve seen huge deals made here. People have their meetings here. It’s casual and not intimidating.’ There’s also the story behind the large mural of a woman on the side of the building’s exterior might be cosmic, if not supernatural. Right as Moreira was about to hire an artist to repaint it, the original artist, a man in his 70s who went by the nom de plume ‘Silvani,’ ‘came out of nowhere,’ Moreira said. ‘He was like a nomad, living in a camper. He came back just at the right time. Like divine intervention.’ Silvani repainted the mural in a few days. As for the interior, ‘I painted it, I rearranged everything,’ said Moreira, referring to when he originally took over the restaurant’s reins. ‘It is totally different but no one would notice because it still feels the same.’ Patrick’s is also a survivor, having hung on after a fire in 2003 forced its closure for six months, and after a couple of years work on a neighboring Chevron station made Patrick’s parking lot inaccessible. On Tuesday, two middle-aged men dressed in black talk with Moreira as they exit. ’Don’t wait another 10 years to come back,’ he tells them. Enter actress Neill, who has been frequenting Patrick’s for about a decade. She told the Palisadian-Post that she usually stops by for the hot dogs or a bowl of oatmeal. She also enjoys meeting various Canyon denizens who make up Patrick’s cast of regulars. Among the loyal patrons is Dr. Jay Grossman, a Brentwood-based dentist whose wife, Briar, grew up in Pacific Palisades. ‘She introduced me to the place and I’ve been coming here on a regular basis almost daily,’ he said. ’This is like coming to see your friends,’ said Dr. Mark Fischman, an acupuncture specialist in the Canyon who has a menu entry (the Doctor Mark omelet) named after him. ‘It’s a second office for me.’ Customers such as Grossman and Fischman told the Post that they mourn the idea of a restaurant as distinctive and eccentric as Patrick’s being replaced (as rumored) by a trendy coffee house or yet another upscale restaurant. ’It’s the antithesis of a Starbucks,’ Fischman said, ‘which is so corporate and clean. What you find here is something that’s unique. It’s eclectic, and it has the personal human touch.’ ’This is the last of the great coffee shops,’ said longtime customer Ralph Starkweather. ‘They’re disappearing. There once was a time when it was possible to stop at wonderful places with humans. Everything today is so corporate, even the Denny’s. Where do you go to get waitresses who call you ‘Hon’ anymore?’
This page is available to subscribers. Click here to sign in or get access.
