Here’s The Pantry’s schtick: Open since 1924 (downtown LA), they’ve never closed and they don’t even have keys to the place.

I’m sure both factoids are probably untrue. However, while not ever closing may be the Pantry’s trademark, I’m not sure that’s necessarily a good thing.

Close the place for a few hours, people!

Maybe at 4 a.m. Last call ended two hours ago and breakfast doesn’t start for another two.

Give the place a good spring cleaning! Scrub the walls (perhaps, with hydrochloric acid), maybe the corners under the tables where decades of bacon bits and toast crumbs have fallen and taken root.

I’m sure the bacteria count here is legendary.

But I love it here!

Really solid breakfasts to be had.

Crazy crispy bacon.

But the best part of it all…the reason why I come…and sometimes it’s all I order:

The toast.

The freaking toast.

I’m sure they griddle it in bacon fat. Or at least rub it a few errant bacon pieces.

It’s this amazing sourdough that’s slathered in just the right amount of tasty, tasty grease.

And then I add some butter cuz, why not?

The Pantry. Hardening folk’s arteries since 1924.

877 S Figueroa St.
Los Angeles, CA 90017
(213) 972-9279
www.pantrycafe.com