Unlike most restaurants that aren't attached to hotels, Philippe's is a union shop. "We've been union since at least 1954," General Manager Richard Binder says. "Our employees say they're very happy with their medical plan, which covers spouses and children--the whole family."
Who comes to Philippe's? In the early morning, it's a neighborhood restaurant for Chinatown. "At 6 a.m., it's all Chinese people coming for coffee," says Mariann Chaisuwatananone, a carver since 1978. Later on, you might see construction workers having breakfast (they often have a French dip instead of scrambled eggs or a stack of hots). At lunch, she says, "It's office people, judges and attorneys, people from the Jewelry District with their badges." At dinner, you see families and USC students. On weekdays, the rush hours are 11:30 a.m. to 1:45 p.m. and 5 to 7 p.m., but on Saturdays and Sundays, Philippe's is crowded from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.--in part, Binder says, because of former Los Angeles residents who have returned for a nostalgic meal.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Wednesday, April 23, 2008 Home Edition Main News Part A Page 2 National Desk 1 inches; 41 words Type of Material: Correction
Philippe's: In the Los Angeles Times Magazine's April 6 issue, a caption with an article about Philippe the Original misspelled the last name of a woman who has worked at the restaurant for 38 years. She is Juanita Gonzalez, not Gonzales.
For The Record
Los Angeles Times Sunday, May 04, 2008 Home Edition Los Angeles Times Magazine Part I Page 14 Lat Magazine Desk 1 inches; 21 words Type of Material: Correction
Philippe's: A caption accompanying "The Big Dipper" in the April 6 issue referred to Juanita Gonzales. The correct spelling is Gonzalez.
In short, people of all sorts and conditions come to Philippe's. In the parking lot, I once saw the shuttle bus of an Altadena senior citizens' home parked next to a van with the bumper sticker of a Navajo-language radio station in Chimney Rock, Ariz.
When a restaurant has been around for 100 years, it accumulates traditions. Credit cards are not accepted. They would slow things down, Binder explains. (But don't worry, there's an ATM in the main room.) "Anyway, we don't have to change, so we don't," he adds. Not very often, anyway. Coffee is 10 cents; it was big news in 1977 when Philippe's raised the price from a nickel.
The carver won't give you a glass of water; you get your own at a fountain in the main room. And don't even bother asking for lettuce, tomato or any kind of condiment on your sandwich. They don't have any.
It's not advertised, but you can ask for your sandwich to be triple-dipped, which makes it really sop with jus. "That's my favorite way," Binder says. "Of course, you have to eat it pretty fast or you'll have to eat it with a spoon."
"Some people even ask for a tuna dip," Chaisuwatananone says. "We ask them two or three times, 'Are you sure?' But we'll do it."
