The Old Place
For those of us brave enough to own a motorcycle in Los Angeles, there exist certain obligatory rides that you inevitably become familiar with. Mulholland Highway is one of those rides — even a casual observer can see the motoring allure. Its two lanes twist and carve through the Santa Monica mountains, wrapping the cliff sides with asphalt that begs its travelers to remember that one adage about prioritizing the journey over the destination. The entire 14mi stretch from Woodland Hills to Agoura Hills is thrilling (not to be confused with Mulholland Drive, which has its own thrills), but the prime-time stretch starts past Las Virgenes where the 101 commuter traffic diverges, and the residences on either side of the Highway disappear leaving only open road and a few quality miles of elongated switchbacks. The automobile culture is quite frothy in Malibu, and this particular road serves as a sort-of red carpet for the rare and often highly capable vehicles that one might see on any given weekend morning. So whether you’re a novice, or you prefer to scrape a knee at 85mph on a hairpin, the ride is worth the gas money.
Motorcycle or otherwise, the twisties will eventually take you all the way to Kanan Dume Road, by way of some bridges — and now due to road closures Troutsdale Road, which dumps you smack dab in the heart of Malibu. But before you cross aforementioned bridges, a restaurant sits off the side of the Highway, quintessentially hitched to its cowboy-esque surroundings with rugged, Western themed structures that create an ethos richly steeped in classic Americana heritage.
With a name perfectly apropos of it’s appearance, The Old Place harkens back to the gun slingin’ Wild West of the 1800s, although established somewhat contemporarily in 1970 by Tom Runyon (if you’re interested in the history, check out the website here).The building is set among a collection of similarly antiqued structures, including the Cornell Winery, an espresso bar, and if my memory serves, a custom hat maker.
The place dishes up American fare at a price that I hope is reflective of the cost of select meat premiums. Or perhaps the four day business week, as the BBQ window is only open Thursday - Sunday. Whatever the case, The Old Place certainly isn’t cheap, but you assuredly get what you pay for. And not atypical of BBQ places in general, portions are huge. The bacon was thicker than I ever thought possible, with a single side order feeding more like a small buffet. So it’s important to come hungry. The iced tea is served in what I would conservatively guess is a 40 oz jug. So fear not, thirst and hunger come to die a glorious death at the Old Place, and once the cold sweats begin from all that beef, be sure to leave room for good conversation with some old hogs that have been coming to this Western watering hole for 30+ years. They’ll tell you how the finely paved black top parking lot that you see today used to be nothing but loose gravel. A guy named Dan might even take a look at your tires and say “No chicken legs!”.
Often times these types of places can feel kitschy, like an imitation hack job of sorts, (think Medieval Times or that pirate dinner thing in Anaheim) but time and time again The Old Place is the first recommendation I get from friends, random locals, and everyone in between. And after topping off my metaphorical fuel tank with quality eats and atmosphere, I understand why. Time to hop back on the moto and take Kanan to the coast. Until next time, old girl.
- Chilecito