We’ve always flown either American or Southwest. All 6 Florida and 3 Boston trips, since February (don’t ask) were Southwest flights beginning or ending at their newly remodeled, cutting edge-neon LAX terminal, where the very first place I see is a forgotten reminisce of myphyllis; Cassell’s.

Phyl and Alvin Cassell
–Phyl was teaching secondary English in Pembroke, on the lip of Cape Cod. Some of her junior high school students rode their horses to class. I was teaching in Huntington Park, between East L.A. and Watts. Some of my elementary school students jumped their low-riders to school.
–On my way home, through downtown, there was a small burger place on Sixth Street. It was run by a little Jewish guy, Alvin Cassell, obsessed with making the best hamburger on planet Earth. And, as every prominent person in LA and entertainment learned, he did. He would fly in fresh beef from Colorado and grind it every morning at 5 a.m. A little buffet of beefsteak tomatoes, just-baked Jewish rye and chala, and just the beyond-best mayonnaise, blue cheese dressing, lemonade, a white mustard/mayo potato salad,; sounds terrible, but to die for; all homemade from scratch.
–We married and moved here. Phyllis’ first L.A job was Berendo Junior High; urban, ugly, rough. Very. Some Silver Lake staff came out to visit us. They couldn’t believe she left Silver Lake for this hellpit. Phyl was really depressed.
–Berendo was blocks from Cassell’s, (Alvin Cassell closed at 3:30 every weekday, didn’t even open on weekends,) so we raced over there, right after the bell.
–Phyllis was never a beef-eater. So why did she love this out-of-place, Koreatown, teeny, greasy spoon? They went off the menu for her. Remember Phyl was stunning. Not just pretty, but incredibly beautiful; bubbling personality, radiance, , and face. Especially those damn eyes, lips, and cheekbones. And there was that inviting, unparalleled, (Nonpareil?) fucking incandescent smile atop quite a figure. She was a bit of a tease too. As always, she talked with anyone and everyone, devil or angel. Everybody from her doctor to the deli owner to fellow teachers to her shrink to my uncle’s friends tried to hit on her.
–There was Phyl talking up the old guys behind the counter, batting her eyes, responding to their attempts at humor, with that deep, total body laugh. She took potato salad, but said “I’m not a burger person.” The head griller guy, “Sorry, we’re a hamburger restaurant. But do you eat pork?” “I love my bacon almost burnt,” said Phyl. Cassell offered, not on the menu, “just try this.” They threw it together on the grille. Just ham and cheese. Except the bread was really long and really wide and really thin; more than a foot long and a half-foot in height, carmelized on each side. . I don’t remember if the first time was the egg bread (chala) or rye, or if the cheese was swiss or cheddar. But, later she had ‘em all. Phyl took one bite, and we returned to our absolutely favorite place to eat 100 times. I did not like ham, but that sandwich was dynamite.

So I stepped off the escalator, and saw the revamped Southwest terminal fronted by the brand new food court. The very first place on site is Cassell’s. On the giant menu, there’s this sign…..