The Dead Thread - Bilge

C cynfulcynner Member Ocean Beach, San Francisco Joined: Mar 24, 2002 Posts: 1799	C cynfulcynner Posted posted on Tue, Mar 14, 2006 4:49 AM Ante 'Tony' Rodin -- longtime Original Joe's owner Marianne Costantinou, Chronicle Staff Writer Sunday, March 12, 2006 Forget the boardroom and the golf course. Deals and friendships were just as likely forged at Original Joe's restaurant in the Tenderloin. Mayors and judges, athletes and actors, hookers and homeless, the chic and the old fogies -- they all came to the landmark San Francisco restaurant at 144 Taylor St. for some good old-fashioned Italian cooking, gigantic portions at low prices, and the casual, friendly atmosphere. For 62 years, Ante "Tony" Rodin presided as folks from every walk of life jostled for a counter seat in front of the open charcoal grill or plopped down in horseshoe-shaped Naugahyde booths or ponied up to the long wooden bar. To Mr. Rodin, it didn't matter what they did for a living or how much money they made -- as long as they made enough to pay the tab. To him, they were all his customers, and he treated them all the same, with courtly manners and a warm gentleness. Mr. Rodin came to the restaurant virtually every day, from the moment he founded it in 1937 with a couple of friends to the last few years when his health started to fail. Old age finally caught up with him last Tuesday. He was 93 and lived for nearly 60 years in the same stucco house in Cow Hollow he had built for his family soon after his restaurant business had taken off. As word spread of his passing, many regulars dropped in Friday night to give condolences to his daughter, Marie Duggan, who has been running the restaurant for the past two decades. They all had a story to tell about Mr. Rodin and how much Original Joe's has meant to them. "Everyone knew he was the soul of this place," said Warren Hinckle, the veteran editor and newspaperman, recalling many a night spent at the bar as Mr. Rodin poured drinks, his Optimo cigar and a glass of Cutty Sark Scotch nearby to keep his customers company. "There's no other joint like this." "Every drink was an honest drink," said Burt McGovern, an attorney who has been coming nearly every week for 30 years, on Wednesdays for the osso bucco or on Thursdays for the corned beef and cabbage. "He thought first and foremost of his customers." "He was always kind and generous with everything he did," said Patricia Carson Major, an attorney who came with friends for lunch every Friday for 15 years when she worked nearby, and has been driving down from her home on Telegraph Hill for the past decade. Upon learning that "Miss Patricia," as he called her, liked fresh vegetables, Mr. Rodin would often bring her a bag of Italian green beans he had grown in his garden. And often when she came with her friends, he'd treat them to a plate of fresh calamari as an appetizer. "He was a very classy guy," said Major. Mr. Rodin's generosity with others -- including his insistence on giving his customers giant portions, from three-quarter-pound burgers on a fat French roll to steaks and halibuts that tipped the scale past a pound -- stemmed from his own poor upbringing, said his daughter. He was born in 1913 on a tiny island off the coast of Croatia. His mother died when he was 6 months old, and his father soon left him in the care of his grandparents to go off to fight in World War I. As soon as his father came back, he went off to join the merchant marine. And so, Mr. Rodin didn't really know his parents, a loss that later made him devoted to his wife and their two children, Duggan said. Life on the island was impoverished, and Mr. Rodin felt hungry most of his childhood, she said. At age 13, he took off across the Adriatic Sea to Trieste, Italy, and got a job at an Italian family restaurant. The owners took a shine to Mr. Rodin, gave him a small place to live out back and put him in charge of their two young sons. About a year later, Mr. Rodin decided to follow his father's footsteps, and he joined the merchant marine on an Italian ship. Once again, he was given kitchen duty. Though living conditions were crude, his six years on the ship were happy, said his daughter. He loved the sea. "And he got to eat as much as he wanted," she said. In 1930, the ship docked at San Francisco. He had heard it was a beautiful city. He had a childhood friend who lived there and an uncle in the fishing business in Monterey. He decided to get off and start a new life. He had $5 in his pocket and a shaving kit, said his daughter. At first Mr. Rodin worked as a fisherman with his uncle, but soon tired of a life spent with sardines. So he moved in with his friend, who lived in San Francisco's Excelsior neighborhood. Since he had cooking experience, he would walk to North Beach each day and work at the Italian restaurants there. One of the places Mr. Rodin worked was a restaurant on Broadway called New Joe's. One of the guys who worked there had run the restaurant for years, back when it was just a lunch counter, and he was eager to start a business of his own. Alas, he had no money to start a business. But Mr. Rodin had been saving his money. They took a look around, and spotted a restaurant in downtown San Francisco called Golden Pines that was for sale. It had sawdust on the floors and was far from the restaurants in North Beach. But the theaters were down the block, and office buildings from the Financial District were nearby. They brought in another friend, and the three men decided to make a go of it. They named it Original Joe's because one of Mr. Rodin's partners wanted to take credit for making New Joe's such a success. About a year later, Mr. Rodin's two partners decided to sell their share. And so, Louis Rocca joined Mr. Rodin and the two men remained partners till 1983, when Rocca retired and Duggan bought his share. Though prices have gone up a teensy bit over the years, the menu has barely changed and the decor has been the same since a big renovation in the 1950s, Duggan said. Otherwise, Original Joe's is as it was when Mr. Rodin opened it, she said. And that is how it will remain. In addition to his daughter, Mr. Rodin is survived by a son, Anthony of Modesto, five grandchildren and six great-grandchildren. A wake will be held tonight at 7 p.m. at Duggan-Serra Mortuary in Daly City. A Mass of Christian burial will be Monday at 11 a.m. at St. Paul's at 29th and Church streets in San Francisco. Burial will follow at Holy Cross Cemetery in Colma. URL: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2006/03/12/BAG73HMSEP1.DTL

Ante 'Tony' Rodin -- longtime Original Joe's owner

Marianne Costantinou, Chronicle Staff Writer
Sunday, March 12, 2006

Forget the boardroom and the golf course. Deals and friendships were just as likely forged at Original Joe's restaurant in the Tenderloin.

Mayors and judges, athletes and actors, hookers and homeless, the chic and the old fogies -- they all came to the landmark San Francisco restaurant at 144 Taylor St. for some good old-fashioned Italian cooking, gigantic portions at low prices, and the casual, friendly atmosphere.

For 62 years, Ante "Tony" Rodin presided as folks from every walk of life jostled for a counter seat in front of the open charcoal grill or plopped down in horseshoe-shaped Naugahyde booths or ponied up to the long wooden bar. To Mr. Rodin, it didn't matter what they did for a living or how much money they made -- as long as they made enough to pay the tab. To him, they were all his customers, and he treated them all the same, with courtly manners and a warm gentleness.

Mr. Rodin came to the restaurant virtually every day, from the moment he founded it in 1937 with a couple of friends to the last few years when his health started to fail. Old age finally caught up with him last Tuesday. He was 93 and lived for nearly 60 years in the same stucco house in Cow Hollow he had built for his family soon after his restaurant business had taken off.

As word spread of his passing, many regulars dropped in Friday night to give condolences to his daughter, Marie Duggan, who has been running the restaurant for the past two decades.

They all had a story to tell about Mr. Rodin and how much Original Joe's has meant to them.

"Everyone knew he was the soul of this place," said Warren Hinckle, the veteran editor and newspaperman, recalling many a night spent at the bar as Mr. Rodin poured drinks, his Optimo cigar and a glass of Cutty Sark Scotch nearby to keep his customers company. "There's no other joint like this."

"Every drink was an honest drink," said Burt McGovern, an attorney who has been coming nearly every week for 30 years, on Wednesdays for the osso bucco or on Thursdays for the corned beef and cabbage. "He thought first and foremost of his customers."

"He was always kind and generous with everything he did," said Patricia Carson Major, an attorney who came with friends for lunch every Friday for 15 years when she worked nearby, and has been driving down from her home on Telegraph Hill for the past decade.

Upon learning that "Miss Patricia," as he called her, liked fresh vegetables, Mr. Rodin would often bring her a bag of Italian green beans he had grown in his garden. And often when she came with her friends, he'd treat them to a plate of fresh calamari as an appetizer.

"He was a very classy guy," said Major.

Mr. Rodin's generosity with others -- including his insistence on giving his customers giant portions, from three-quarter-pound burgers on a fat French roll to steaks and halibuts that tipped the scale past a pound -- stemmed from his own poor upbringing, said his daughter.

He was born in 1913 on a tiny island off the coast of Croatia. His mother died when he was 6 months old, and his father soon left him in the care of his grandparents to go off to fight in World War I. As soon as his father came back, he went off to join the merchant marine. And so, Mr. Rodin didn't really know his parents, a loss that later made him devoted to his wife and their two children, Duggan said.

Life on the island was impoverished, and Mr. Rodin felt hungry most of his childhood, she said. At age 13, he took off across the Adriatic Sea to Trieste, Italy, and got a job at an Italian family restaurant. The owners took a shine to Mr. Rodin, gave him a small place to live out back and put him in charge of their two young sons.

About a year later, Mr. Rodin decided to follow his father's footsteps, and he joined the merchant marine on an Italian ship. Once again, he was given kitchen duty. Though living conditions were crude, his six years on the ship were happy, said his daughter. He loved the sea.

"And he got to eat as much as he wanted," she said.

In 1930, the ship docked at San Francisco. He had heard it was a beautiful city. He had a childhood friend who lived there and an uncle in the fishing business in Monterey. He decided to get off and start a new life. He had $5 in his pocket and a shaving kit, said his daughter.

At first Mr. Rodin worked as a fisherman with his uncle, but soon tired of a life spent with sardines. So he moved in with his friend, who lived in San Francisco's Excelsior neighborhood. Since he had cooking experience, he would walk to North Beach each day and work at the Italian restaurants there.

One of the places Mr. Rodin worked was a restaurant on Broadway called New Joe's. One of the guys who worked there had run the restaurant for years, back when it was just a lunch counter, and he was eager to start a business of his own. Alas, he had no money to start a business. But Mr. Rodin had been saving his money. They took a look around, and spotted a restaurant in downtown San Francisco called Golden Pines that was for sale. It had sawdust on the floors and was far from the restaurants in North Beach. But the theaters were down the block, and office buildings from the Financial District were nearby.

They brought in another friend, and the three men decided to make a go of it. They named it Original Joe's because one of Mr. Rodin's partners wanted to take credit for making New Joe's such a success.

About a year later, Mr. Rodin's two partners decided to sell their share. And so, Louis Rocca joined Mr. Rodin and the two men remained partners till 1983, when Rocca retired and Duggan bought his share.

Though prices have gone up a teensy bit over the years, the menu has barely changed and the decor has been the same since a big renovation in the 1950s, Duggan said.

Otherwise, Original Joe's is as it was when Mr. Rodin opened it, she said. And that is how it will remain.

In addition to his daughter, Mr. Rodin is survived by a son, Anthony of Modesto, five grandchildren and six great-grandchildren.

A wake will be held tonight at 7 p.m. at Duggan-Serra Mortuary in Daly City. A Mass of Christian burial will be Monday at 11 a.m. at St. Paul's at 29th and Church streets in San Francisco. Burial will follow at Holy Cross Cemetery in Colma.

URL: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2006/03/12/BAG73HMSEP1.DTL

Post #220663 by cynfulcynner on Tue, Mar 14, 2006 4:49 AM