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Small Wonders: Damon's isn't the same. Or is it?

March 16, 2013|By Patrick Caneday

Damon's just isn’t the same.

It's not worse. Not necessarily better, either.

Always great.

Just not the same.

Which shouldn’t mean anything, really, when you think about it.

What is the same?

I’m not. And unless you’re Joan Rivers, neither are you.

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It’s just that every time I go to Damon’s Steakhouse, something is a little different — which can be unsettling. Kind of like seeing a new lawn gnome in front of your childhood home.

We had dinner last Saturday at Glendale’s most famous eatery. We were celebrating the 40th anniversary of my mother’s 39th birthday.

On the surface, it may look the same: The fish tank, thatched roofing and bamboo; the outrigger overhead, tiki idols, monkeys and tropical wall art — though I seem to recall a few of the tanned female islanders being topless in those pastoral scenes of my youth. But maybe that’s just the fantasy of an adolescent boy.

Like many locals, it’s been our family “go-to” restaurant as long as I can remember. The one you go to when you just don’t have the energy to think of any other place to go and you know the food will always be good. More of a reunion than a dining experience.

I remember eating at the original location, the one that’s somewhere under what became Nordstrom at the Galleria, if memory serves. It’s where my mother’s parents took her for her first drink on her 21st birthday. The current location on Brand Boulevard is where she took me for what she thought was my first drink. Perhaps my daughters will have their first drink there, too, — if they’re allowed out of the convent for a night.

Folks used to be able to smoke in the place. I remember walking through the bar and seeing a layer of cigarette smoke from the top of my 13-year-old head to the ceiling. There was one lone, wheezing air purifier on the ceiling that struggled, hissed and sparked in a fruitless effort to suck up the smog.

Used to be I didn’t even have to look at the menu. If you grew up going to Damon’s, you had it memorized. Top sirloin, petite filet, New York strip, broiled chicken breast, deep fried or broiled shrimp brochette, hamburger — and Mai Tais.

You had one or two favorites and you picked whichever struck your fancy that night. Salad with house dressing because they had no other, garlic bread and a twice-baked potato. Done.

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