Here's to the Moon Hitting Your Eye, In the Valley.

There is this dirty phenomenon that occurs with anything unique and unknown, it soon ceases to be unique and unknown. It tends to lose its allure. This, I guarantee you will never happen with BARONE'S FAMOUS ITALIAN; this is because of two reasons. One, most people won’t drive out to Valley Glen deep deep in the Valley and two, to the clientele Barone’s is such and institution and mainstay in their lives that all the too-cool-for-school-Hollywoood-Chuck Taylor-wearing kids couldn’t overshadow the amount of hairpieces and nail tips in one evening’s seating.

This is a family restaurant. It also is a “special night” place. There are 60 year-old couples in faux-leather jackets on a date night. You might see two sons in their 40’s taking their mother out for dinner. At the full bar, which is a great vantage point, a plumber eats alone at the end of a long day. The other night I was there with my father and my son. This is very indicative of a night there. Barone's operates on geriatric hours; meaning people are in and out and back to Dr. Phil by 5:30, so it starts to die down around 8:30 during the week. I know the red vinyl booth thing is somewhat played out in L.A. but that’s because where it usually shows up is some “hip” place that people claim is authentic but more so likens itself to a themed restaurant you’d find at Epcot Center. “Italian-like”. This, my friends, is the real deal. If you’re lucky Tom Monteleone, the brother to the last remaining Barone,’ll seat you. He looks straight out of Scorsese extras casting. Maroon silk shirt and grey pressed slacks. Hair immaculate. The waiters, for the most part, have all been there since the beginning and are at varying stages of disintegration. There is also a younger staff bringing up the rear in case dementia or alcoholism sets in.

Most places have one thing that is the thing to order. Despite my swaying over to the Cannelloni or the Lasagna, I have now realized there is one place to stay and that is with the pizza. There are other items, which have stuck out. The Spaghetti and Meatballs is like one would eat at a friend’s mother’s house. Note, not your own mother, but a friend’s whose mother over boils the pasta and leaves a little too much water in the sauce. The Calamari is decent. It tastes as good as the rest of the Fried Calamari of the world, with slices of lemon and Cocktail sauce (love the Cocktail Sauce). But if you were with me and were subject to sitting there while I ordered for us, what it would be is a Barone’s salad and medium pizza. The salad is the salad my Grandpa used to make me. It is iceberg and romaine lettuce, garbanzo Beans, shredded cabbage, a couple of cherry tomatoes, pepperocino, olives and a whole scallion thrown over the top. The dressing is a mix between a Caesar and Vinaigrette. The scallion cracks me up. It’s meaningless and serves no purpose unless you’re a dope like me and take a huge bite out of it, but it works in its simplicity. The way you order the pizza is “medium extra crispy”, why? A large is a size such that the middle sections wouldn’t be as crispy and a small is not enough food. Two people could share a medium easily and you can even have them half and half the toppings.

Now you can’t think of this as a Pizza place, because this is not your normal round pizza. In fact, it comes in a rectangle pan, cut up into squares like Chuck-E-Cheese for Christ-sakes. And the dough is not dough you might be used to, it is tangy in the delicious way a sourdough baguette might be with a faint taste of yeast. It's old-fashioned, a pizza from another time. For dessert I would only order the Cheesecake. It is just like the cheesecake recipe on the back of a Philidelphia Cream Cheese box. Timeless and simple. But have them hold the rasberry sauce, I think it kills the dish.

In addition to the food and almost as important is the clientele. This place is a sigh of relief in that you certainly feel like you're in New Jersey as opposed to L.A.

Happy customers

There are generations upon generations mingling, talking loudly, kids spilling their drinks, and elderly couples kissing. There is also entertainment, which I have yet to have seen. I generally see a grey-haired man tinkering behind the dance floor (yes, dance floor, one can only imagine) with a keyboard, but he just never seems to get around to singing. And, if you grab the photocopied calendar of entertainment on the way out you will see there is Comedy Night. For the love of God, I must see Comedy Night. I’m sure Sheckie Green would be proud.

One of my favorite things to do with my girlfriend is sit over a meal at the end of the day and comment on all the characters devouring their Sand Dabs and Pizza at Barone’s. They are numerous and loaded with history. But I can’t help thinking that there is a grey-haired man in a Member's Only Jacket with his wife in the corner booth talking about me, as I wipe the sauce from my chin and glance down at the oil stain on my pants.


WELL?
Grab a family member, hell, grab a bunch and order a couple mediums extra crispy.

Barone's
13726 Oxnard Street (near the corner of Woodman)
Valley Glen, CA 91401
818.782.6004