The Wilmington branch of Eat at Rudy’s is not where you might expect an eatery to be — and, at the same time, it’s exactly where it should be.
The curiosity of its location is clear. There’s an oil and natural gas facility across the street, along with trucking companies to the south and the west. On the other hand, Wilmington is a blue collar town, supporting the massive shipping industry that stretches for miles along the docks. It never fails to amaze, as you drive along the oddly named Seaside Freeway, how many shipping containers there are in the world.
And, Eat at Rudy’s is very much a blue collar diner — a classic elbow-bending, can-I-freshen-your-coffee-honey kind of place, where big meals are needed by people who work hard with their backs, their arms, their hands.
If there were tablecloths on the tables, it would make no sense at all. This is the world of Formica, with real sugar and real milk poured into real cups of joe. This is where those who work here, and live here, go for breakfast and lunch. It’s the sort of eatery where one breakfast combo is called Rambo, and another is John Wayne. There’s a Popeye omelet because, well, of course there is.
The original Eat at Rudy’s sits deep in the heart of Torrance’s historic downtown district, on Post at Cravens — a couple of streets that casual cruisers don’t tend to meander down. Even Waze gets confused.
But the Wilmington incarnation is easy to find, situated on busy Anaheim Street, if only because everything here feels so retro — but not self-consciously so.
Just consider the old school line drawing of a chef in a toque that’s the signature of the place; chefs haven’t looked like that since Harry was in the White House. There’s a box on the menu of four dishes for not just kids, but seniors as well. If Rudy’s was open till 4 or so, they’d have an early bird special. But they close at 2 every afternoon. And they open at 6:30 every morning, seven days a week.
Eat at Rudy’s is as comfortable as an old shoe. Seated at the counter, with its fine view of the kitchen and its machinations, this is a restaurant that makes you feel as if you’ve come home at last. That’s because, well, for loyal locals, it is home.
It’s a café with a menu that’s as recognizable and reassuring as mom’s cooking — if mom offered a sizable selection of egg dishes, creations Hot Off the Griddle, burgers and sandwiches, and a smattering of Chef’s Favorites.
Breakfast is the spiritual centerpiece of the food here — first of all, because there are more breakfast dishes than anything else, but also because the place simply exudes the country goodness of biscuits topped with sausage and gravy, with two eggs any style and home fries. Really … what’s not to love?
Actually, there’s much to love here. The two-egg breakfast comes with just about everything in the kitchen — including chorizo, Polish sausage, a turkey burger and meat loaf.
There’s the aforementioned John Wayne Breakfast as well — and, if you’re there with a millennial, you may have to explain who John Wayne was. This John Wayne is a tortilla topped with two eggs and cheese, with “Spanish” sauce and home fries, and sausage. Did the Duke eat his breakfast that way? Could be. He sure wasn’t a vegetarian.
As for the Rambo, it’s French toast, two eggs, ham or bacon or sausage. And no, that doesn’t sound like a meal Rambo would have eaten. He strikes me as a guy who would eat a 2-pound t-bone raw.
For lunch, there are several melts, several burgers — and a terrific clam chowder. It’s a very thick clam chowder. Not as thick as the iconic chowder at the Chowder Barge in the Harbor. But terrific nonetheless.
If you need a bigger lunch, there are plates served with potatoes, vegetables and garlic toast or a biscuit. They’re built around a choice of chicken, country fried steak, ground round, ham steak, pork chops, meatloaf and more.
And, yes, even the salads smack of the good old days — chef’s, tuna, beef taco, chicken salad and such. With no arugula, no quinoa and no kale in sight. That’s not what you eat at Rudy’s. And I can’t imagine anyone complaining.
Merrill Shindler is a Los Angeles-based freelance dining critic. Email mreats@aol.com.