In Homage to the Original

When I first started this site, and was diligently searching the web, looking for proper names, I did a search for "nosheteria," the perfect combination of the words cafeteria (a place many of us have fond, or not so fond memories of) and nosh (a common Jewish colloquialism meaning a snack). At the time, only one result came up on Google, an Epinions rating of a favorite restaurant, Canter's Deli in LA, mentioning that this was "a late night nosheteria." And so the love affair was quickly cemented.


I love Canter's Deli. Not because it's the greatest Jewish food around (because it's not), and not because it is open 24 hours a day (although that is wonderful), but because it is what it is-- an old school deli, plastic banquettes still intact, with a truly bizarre clientele. To get the full realization of Canter's, it is necessary to dine there in the late evening hours, when the Kibbitz Room, the attached bar next door is in full swing. The glaring lights of the neon marquee beckon you to come inside for a bowl of chicken soup and a bagel. Cruising past the deli and bakery cases housing rows of rugelah, and towers of babkas in the foyer, it's not even necessary to request a booth-- at Canter's that's all they have.

I always have chicken soup at Canter's, even in late July when LA is suffering through a heat wave that makes the flesh on the back of my arms stick to the leatherette veneer of the banquette. I have had the matzo ball, and it's pretty good for restaurant style matzo ball soup, unadorned, just a tennis ball-sized sphere floating in the clear chicken broth. But what I have is the dumpling to beat all Jewish dumplings-- kreplach. Doughy and thick, eggy, offering the slightest bit of resistance to the spoon, with a plain minced chicken filling, kreplach soup is the soup of champions! Many Jewish delis do not even have kreplach soup on the menu, or if they do it is just a wonton, setting in a bowl of tepid broth. But Canter's revels in the perogi-like presence of their kreplach, placing it squarely in a bowl of steaming hot, salty chicken broth. When you order kreplach soup from Canter's, that is what you get, no shreds of white chicken breast meat, not the odd carrot or two floating around haphazardly in broth. You get just chicken soup, with a couple of kreplachs; and you don't need anything more.


But perhaps what I love the most about a late night run to Canter's is the ambiance. Now I'm not talking about dimmed lighting, beautiful floral center pieces, and flickering candlelight sort of ambiance. What I am talking about is glaring fluorescent lights, the kind that give you a greenish cast, briny dill pickles replacing the quaint floral center pieces, and hoarse waitresses who have worked at years for Canter's, barking out "What can I get you?" all whilst wearing the faded "I Love Canter's Deli" t-shirt. Hipsters, old folks, and the odd celebrity (because it is LA) all dine together under the fluorescent lights, covered with a 1970's, translucent tiles, reminiscent of hyper-colored trees and leaves. The corned beef is good, the pastrami is fine, and the coffee is diner style and delicious, making no trip to LA complete without my fix from Canter's deli. And now, since this Nosheteria's inception, I've been able to build a lasting connection to this timeless, old haunt.