Tick Tock Restaurant

It's the kind of restaurant where Garrison Keillor would have eaten in Lake Wobegone and then told stories about on his "Prairie Home Companion." It's the Tick Tock, a Hollywood institution for 58 years, a place that peels its own potatoes, makes its own desserts, serves fresh roast turkey and home-style Midwest meat loaf with brown gravy every day.

It's the kind of restaurant where Garrison Keillor would have eaten in Lake Wobegone and then told stories about on his "Prairie Home Companion." It's the Tick Tock, a Hollywood institution for 58 years, a place that peels its own potatoes, makes its own desserts, serves fresh roast turkey and home-style Midwest meat loaf with brown gravy every day.

The closing of the Tick Tock Restaurant in Hollywood is a sad day for its legions of devoted customers (Metro, Aug. 16). No where else is there an atmosphere as homey as the Johnson's dining room, the walls covered with their collection of clocks. How wonderful it was to dine among families including small children in this present-day world of fast-food chains and their motley transient clientele. Last but not least, the glorious food, especially their famous turkey dinner, will never again taste so good.

You don't generally get special service behind bars. But jail officials are willing to dial the phone whenever Kevin Mitnick wants to make a call. In fact, they insist upon it. Mitnick, a Panorama City computer hacker accused, among other things, of causing $4 million in damage to a New England company, is awaiting trial in the Metropolitan Detention Center in Los Angeles.

She was just one of thousands, a streetwise Hollywood prostitute who could beat the system. She used dozens of names. Time after time she was arrested, only to dodge lengthy jail terms by claiming to be a first-time offender. "Before we could identify her, she was already before the judge," Officer Frank Hintz recalled. "She'd get off with five days in County Jail . . . and be back on the streets." But her tricks are a thing of the past, police say.

When my grandparents moved to Hollywood, it wasn't to be near the movies, God knows. It was because they were Prohibitionists, and Hollywood was a Temperance town that didn't allow liquor.

"Can you recommend a restaurant with a private dining room we might book for a party?" This time of year, that's the most frequently asked restaurant question. And we do have a few unusual answers. Hotels, of course, have banquet facilities, and if your group is really large, those may be the best bet.

She was just one of thousands, a streetwise Hollywood prostitute who could beat the system. She used dozens of names. Time after time she was arrested, only to dodge lengthy jail terms by claiming to be a first-time offender. "Before we could identify her, she was already before the judge," Hollywood vice Officer Frank Hintz recalled. "She'd get off with five days in County Jail . . . and be back on the streets." But her tricks are a thing of the past, police say.

San Fernando Valley restaurants are not yet standing in line to give their leftover food to charities, despite a new law that removes liability for the businesses should someone become ill from the food. But industry observers predict that enthusiasm for putting leftovers to use will increase later this month with the advent of a program called Second Helpings. Under Second Helpings, the California Restaurant Assn.

Michael Woo, the early front-runner in the Los Angeles mayoral race, now faces the toughest test of his campaign in his own back yard--where rhetoric and reality collide on the gritty streets of Hollywood. After nearly eight years of representing Hollywood on the City Council, Woo has a legacy that includes lawsuits, failed revitalization plans and angry constituents.