Even if you knew Lawry’s California Center during the years when it flourished, it was kind of hard to explain it to out-of-town friends. But you had to explain, because you so often ended up taking them there.Why? Because it was so inexplicable. There on Avenue 26 off the I-5, hard by the Los Angeles River, near the old Taylor freight yard, was a restaurant and a factory that packaged spices and seasonings – particularly a “seasoned salt” that now sounds like a very retro condiment. But surrounding this Cypress Park spice mill were nearly 20 acres of gardens and ramblas, places to eat and drink under palms and ficuses, patrolled by strolling mariachis. It was one of L.A.’s favorite places to imbibe margaritas and share a sunset.In its kitschy way, Lawry’s was exquisite: a particularly wonderful slab of Old California hokum, evoking a pre-statehood past confined, historically speaking, to the Zorro movies. It was a tribute from Lawry’s gastronomic empire – which also included some marmoreal Restaurant Row beeferies – to what its Anglo founders wished Old California had really been like. And even as the surrounding community turned increasingly Latino in the 1970s, Lawry’s Center became more a point of local pride.
Source: Remember Him? | L.A. Weekly