Out in Burbank, right across the street from the Warner [Brothers] Studio, there's a restaurant that I like a lot called the SmokeHouse. It's been there forever — well, since 1946 at least — and it has a rich history, especially for those who are into animation and comic books. Animators used to lunch there all the time. It's right next door to where the U.P.A. studio was located and of course, it's near Warner's and pretty convenient to other studios, as well.
During the forties and fifties, a lot of those animators would moonlight drawing comic books, mostly for either Western Publishing (the Dell line) or for a local artist named James F. Davis, who commissioned work for east coast comic book publishers. At lunchtime, it was not uncommon for Davis and/or an editor from Western to be conducting business — handing out scripts, accepting art, delivering paychecks, etc. — at the SmokeHouse. Nearer the dinner hour, actor Jim Backus could often be found at its bar, hoisting a few to get himself "in character" to go next door and record a Mr. Magoo cartoon.
I started going there in the late seventies when I was working for Hanna-Barbera. There was an H-B exec who lived and worked in Ohio where the parent corporation had an office. He'd come to town about every six weeks and we'd go to lunch to discuss projects relating to my division. Invariably, this occurred at the SmokeHouse where he'd order a full order of the restaurant's famous Garlic Cheese Bread for each of us.
A full order was more than enough for four people. I'd eat a third to a quarter of mine. He'd eat all of his and the rest of my order…and not because he was a big eater. He wasn't. He just loved their Garlic Cheese Bread.
He was not alone. It's still really, really good…easily the best I've ever had. Since then, whenever I have to sup with someone in that area, I usually suggest the SmokeHouse. The rest of the cuisine is pretty good but it's the Garlic Cheese Bread that brings in a lot of diners.
A few years ago, I was one of the partners who owned a restaurant in Hollywood. I didn't make a lot of money off my investment but it was kinda fun to take friends to "my restaurant" and to learn a little about how that kind of business operates. And I almost got an unexpected bonus. One day, the lady who managed the place told me on the phone she'd just hired a new chef. I nodded from disinterest and said something brilliant like, "Uh-huh…" She said, "His name is Felipe and we were lucky to get him. He worked the last twenty years at the SmokeHouse."
"The SmokeHouse!???" Suddenly, the new chef had my undivided attention. I asked her to find out if Felipe knew how to make the SmokeHouse Garlic Cheese Bread. She asked and reported back, "He says he sure does. He made hundreds of orders every day for twenty years." Tingling with excitement, I asked her to ask him if he could tell me the recipe. She inquired and told me, "He said he'd be glad to, next time you come in." I said, "I'm on my way!" And I jumped in my car and headed for the restaurant to learn the secret. I'm not sure what I thought I'd do with it…maybe just whip up a batch when friends visited to impress the heck outta them. But I did figure it sure couldn't hurt to know how to make the best Garlic Cheese Bread in the world. I got there, hauled out a notepad and pen and asked Felipe to spill.
He told me about splitting pieces of French Bread, buttering them with garlic butter and toasting them in a top broiler. "Okay," I thought. "My stove doesn't have a top broiler but for this, I'll buy one." Then I asked him, "What kind of French Bread?"
He said, "The kind the SmokeHouse buyer gets. I never knew where it came from."
"Okay," I said. "That's not important. Now, I've split the French Bread, slathered it with garlic butter and toasted it under the top broiler. What do I do next?"
Felipe replied, "Well then, all you have to do is sprinkle it with the cheese and put it back in the broiler."
"How long do I put it back in the broiler for?"
He said, "Until it's done. I don't know how long. Until it looks right."
"Fine. Now, the big question is…what kind of cheese is it?"
"Garlic cheese."
"What kind of garlic cheese?"
"I don't know. The kind the SmokeHouse buyer orders. We had it in a big box. When we were getting close to running out, I'd tell them and they'd order more. I don't know where it came from."
My notepad didn't have a lot on it and I was desperate to change that. "Was there a name on the box? A brand? A certain kind of cheese?"
"Oh, yes. I remember what kind of cheese it was."
"Don't hold out on me, sir. I am one-sixth your boss. What kind of cheese was it?"
"I told you. Garlic cheese."
So there you have it: The recipe for the greatest Garlic Cheese Bread in the world. Let me know how it turns out.
Actually, I should have known. One of the few things I know about cooking and restaurants — and I knew this even before I invested in that restaurant — is that way too much emphasis is placed on secret recipes. You may have heard all the tales of folks trying to find out what ingredients go into Mrs. Fields' Cookies and in what proportions. Ponce deLeon did not search for the Secret of Eternal Youth with as much gusto as some people have shown in trying to ferret out the well-guarded secret of Debbi Fields' cookie formula.
I don't know what it is, either…but many years ago, I had a business-type meeting with Wally Amos, AKA "Famous Amos." He was the reigning Superstar Cookie Maker before that Fields lady usurped the crown. Nice man, Wally Amos…and he sure made great cookies before he sold off the company which still puts his name on a not-nearly-as-good product.
Mr. Amos wanted to get into the cartoon business…wanted to engage me to bring some character ideas to life. The project never went forward, at least with me involved…but one afternoon, we sat and swapped tales of our respective businesses. I told what I knew about how to make cartoons. He told me what he knew about how to make cookies. I sure got the better of that exchange.
The main thing I learned was that the recipe doesn't matter; that you can make great cookies with the recipe they print right on the bag of chocolate morsels you buy at the supermarket. The secrets are in, first of all, the quality of the ingredients you use…but mainly in how skillfully you combine them, how long you bake them, even in the way you just blend them together.
Which makes sense. You could give me the exact same paints that Edgar Degas used and the same brushes and the same canvas and even get similar fat ladies to pose for me…but that doesn't mean I could produce one of his paintings or anything a zillionth as wonderful. Great art is not about secret formulas and neither is great cooking, at least not completely. Okay, so Chef Felipe couldn't tell me the kind of garlic cheese to use. But I later realized he had told me the real secret of the SmokeHouse Garlic Cheese Bread. It was when he said he'd made hundreds of orders every day for twenty years.