Walking into Canter’s Delicatessen is like stepping into a warm, humming piece of L.A. history.
The original business was started by brothers Ben and Joe Canter in Jersey City, New Jersey, in 1924. After the Great Depression shuttered that first shop, the family moved west and opened Canter Brothers Delicatessen in 1931 on Brooklyn Avenue (today Cesar Chavez Boulevard) in Boyle Heights.
As decades passed and the city changed, so did Canter’s.
By 1948, the family relocated to Fairfax Avenue—and soon afterward, in 1953, into its current home at 419 N. Fairfax Avenue, a former movie-theater building (the old Esquire Theatre).
Canter's legacy doesn’t just stop with the food but runs from the people who work there.

I walked in wearing an “I Heart L.A.” shirt, and before I could take two steps, the host grinned and said, “Well, what do ya know—I love L.A. too. I feel like I already know ya.”
That’s Canter’s. A place where a stranger is treated like a regular, and a regular is treated like family.
Back in 2021, I was served by a woman who told me she drove in from Riverside just to work at Canter's. This really stuck with me; this must be a place people are dedicated to working at if you’re driving 50+ miles every day.
She tapped my shoulder before disappearing for a break and said, “Honey, I’m going out for a cigarette—give me fifteen.”
Something about that felt old-school in the most comforting way. Not rushed. Not automated. No iPad register glowing in your face. She wasn’t even writing anything down. She just knew. The kind of server who doesn’t need tech to memorize a whole four-top’s order because she has muscle memory older than most apps.
Canter’s is still family-owned, still family-run, and still staffed by people who’ve given decades of their lives to this deli on Fairfax.
I sat down with three of them, Greg, George, and Pablo, to understand why they’ve never left, and why customers return to them as much as they return to the food.

Greg—39 years at Canter's
Greg has been at Canter’s for 39 years, though he’ll tell you the number with the modest shrug of someone who doesn’t quite believe it’s been that long. He’s originally from the Pacific Northwest and walked into Canter’s decades ago to check on a job application.
“I remember meeting Jacqueline Canter,” he says. “She looked at me and said, ‘You’ll fit in great here.’ And that was that. I started the next day.”
He laughs when telling me how he had also applied to Greenblatt’s Deli the same week.
“I came home, saw the voicemail from them, and obviously didn’t call back and look almost 40 years later, here I am,” he says.
Greg tells me that 75 percent of the people who walk through the door are regulars. Some come in multiple times a day.
“I’ve watched kids grow up here," he says. "I’ve seen babies who used to sit in high chairs come back with their own babies. It’s wild.”
When I ask what he's witnessed at Canter’s, he laughs.
“What haven’t I seen here? I’ve seen whole eras change," he says. "Fairfax has changed. L.A. has changed. We’ve changed, too. People wanted low-carb everything at one point, remember that? We rolled with it. Now we even have vegetarian matzo ball soup.”
He leaned in a little, his voice softer. “What gets me is the family. They’re in here working. They get their hands dirty. That’s rare.”
And the celebrities?
“I don’t get starstruck,” he says. “This is their town. They just come in to eat. I treat everybody the same. And honestly—who hasn’t been in here?”

George—62 years at Canter's
If anyone embodies the soul of Canter’s, it’s George. He has worked here for 62 years, a number that feels mythic in a city built on reinvention.
At the age of 22, George arrived in Los Angeles after immigrating from Greece to Canada, then taking a pit stop in New York.
A friend told him, “Come to L.A., I’ve got a job waiting for you.” And once he arrived, that was it.
“I walked into Canter’s and met the owner,” he says. “She told me, ‘Your friend said you were one of a kind.’ And I told her, ‘Words aren’t convincing enough.’ She liked that. I’ve been here ever since.”
He’s 83 now.
“I almost retired twelve years ago,” he tells me. “But I’m the fastest at what I do. Why would I retire? I’m working for this wonderful, wonderful family. That’s why I stayed so long.”
When I ask him about memorable moments, his eyes light up.
“I’ve met everyone,” he says. “Muhammad Ali. Jerry Lewis — he’d walk in and ask, ‘Is George here?’ Imagine that. They're coming in and asking for me.”
But his favorite memory is about love, not fame.
“I met my wife, Virginia, right here at Canter’s," he says. "She walked in as a customer. She knew someone who worked here. As soon as she came in, her eyes wouldn’t go away.”
They married in Las Vegas in 1972.
“She passed away twenty-one years ago,” he says, his voice softening. “But this place … this place still reminds me of her.”

Pablo—32 years at Canter's
Behind the bar at Canter’s is Pablo, who has been holding it down for 32 years, going on 33 this January. He has the dry humor of someone who has watched more late-night characters than most bartenders in L.A.
“I had a friend who told me they needed someone,” he says. “I said, ‘Okay,’ and that was it. The rest is history. Plus, I save a lot of money on gas—Canter’s is close to my house."
His eyes scan the bar as he talks.
“Not much has changed here. Same stools. Same bottles. Same regulars," Pablo says. "The only time it was different was during COVID. We closed for a year and a half. The whole place felt too quiet. Canter’s shouldn’t be quiet.”
He says people often come in asking for him.
“When they don’t see me, they go, ‘Where’s Pablo?’ I tell them, ‘Pablo’s gotta have a day off!’”
In New York, he used to bar-tend at places where celebrities slipped in and out of the night. At Canter’s, it’s no different.
“I used to see Slash come in for breakfast,” he says about the guitarist, who was a friend of Marc Canter since childhood. “Always with a bunch of girls. They’d drive me crazy—‘Can I get some ranch? Can I get this?’ They were nice, though. Always kept me on my toes.”
He grins, leaning forward like he's letting me in on a secret.
“That’s the fun part. You never know who’s coming in," Pablo tells us. "But it’s always someone. Always a story.”
Canter’s Delicatessen ~ 419 N. Fairfax Ave. Los Angeles, CA 90036
Closest Metro line and stop: Bus Line 217 and 218 - "Fairfax/Rosewood"







