Game 4: Henry Winkler - Becky's Baked Beans

Tomorrow is Henry Winkler’s 74th birthday. Shortly before his 73rd birthday, the TV icon best known for playing The Fonz finally won a Primetime Emmy. In Barry, Winkler plays Gene Cousineau, a stern acting coach who is revered by his students, especially the titular Iraq War sniper-turned-PTSD-addled-hitman-turned-wannabe-actor played by creator Bill Hader. But Gene is not some Has Been in the classic sense of the washed up actor archetype; he’s more of a Never Was. Framed posters of Pasadena Playhouse productions and stories about a fractured friendship with the late Patrick Swayze are the only proof of his career gravitas, yet they’re enough to impress the pathetic, desperate actors who make up his students. Just like Barry, who murders when he’s not practicing monologues, Gene leads a double life outside of the class where his acting notes are considered gospel. But he’s secretly just like his students: a struggling actor driving to Santa Monica for one line auditions.

Gene teaches from a rundown theater in the San Fernando Valley. In reality, those scenes for seasons 1 and 2 were shot at The Steve Allen Theater located at 4773 Hollywood Blvd on the hazy border between East Hollywood and Los Feliz. The theater’s cramped performance stage or huge parking lot won't be seen in the upcoming season. That’s because it was torn down in early 2019 two years after being sold to a real estate company. Construction will soon begin on the empty lot to build 21 small-lot homes exempt from affordable housing requirements.

In its short 14 year history, The Steve Allen Theater -- named after The Tonight Show’s co-creator and original host -- occupied an odd place in the L.A. comedy world. It was an alternative comedy theater, for sure, but it wasn’t a breeding ground for up and coming talent like the UCB, The Clubhouse, or Echoes Under Sunset (R.I.P.). Instead you’d find shows hosted by Mr. Show creators Bob Odenkirk and David Cross or their alumni like Mary Lynn Rajskub. Home Movies creator Brendon Small originated the idea for Metalocalypse while putting on satirical sketches about death metal band Cannibal Corpse. Canadian sketch legends The Kids in the Hall had their reunion shows at the small 99-seat theater.

The Steve Allen Theater was also an oddbird in the L.A. comedy scene for its owners. While the theater’s schedule was curated by the nonprofit arts foundation Trepany House, the owners of the theater itself was the Center for Inquiry, a secular nonprofit whose mission is “dedicated to defending science and critical thinking in examining religion.” You’d think a comedy theater owned by an organization whose website currently advertises tickets to Richard Dawkins 2019 tour would be into spreading Gervaisian comedy. “Innit weird that religion has caused all of the world’s wars, innit?” But the theater functioned more like a cheaper, Eastside Largo, a place where capital GU Grown Ups could watch sketch comedy, experimental theater, musical performances, and mainstays like The Tomorrow Show with Ron Lynch without having to find parking in a busier, cooler part of town (I mentioned that huge parking lot earlier for a reason).

But now it’s gone. And the whole block is gone too.

Hollywood Blvd between Kenmore and Berrendo is currently a wasteland, the only signs of life being a Garcettiville tent city in front of Barnsdall Art Park. Joining the former Steve Allen Theater are two other empty lots at 4850 and 4900 Hollywood Blvd. The former was a classic L.A. strip mall, home to Pollo Dorado and a Thai spot whose name I can’t remember. I do remember the faded photo of the kitchen and wait staff huddled around Paul Newman that was lovingly displayed on the wall. The latter was anchored by the grimy Guetelinda night club and the Charo-inspired-but-I-don’t-think-Charo-owned Cuchi Cuchi restaurant. Both lots are now owned by real estate developer LaTerra, who plan to build two mixed-use buildings under the shadow of Barnsdall. Across from 4900 Hollywood is the former OSH hardware story, a behemoth that closed (along with all OSH’s) less than a year after opening on the former burial grounds of Kids Dental Kare. After being empty for a year, it was finally announced last week that the AIDS Health Foundation will be moving its headquarters to the building.

Former site of Paul Newman’s favorite Thai spot.

I grew up on eastern edge of East Hollywood, Virgil Village, where it bleeds into Silver Lake. I’m now on western side in Thai Town, where East Hollywood becomes Hollywood Proper. I’ve seen my neighborhood dismantled, leveled, and rebuilt in a wealthy developer’s image and now I’m seeing it again. Helpless, again. I’m waving my fist at the ocean for knocking down the sandcastle and it’s making me weary.

But where Virgil Village’s change was predictable disarray -- the vintage clothing store next to the pinata store -- the change here in Thai Town feels annihilative. You can walk down these blocks and feel an eerie sense of physical isolation that you don’t find in Hollywood. Three empty lots, one vacant box store, a Kaiser Permanente administrative office, and a park. Where there was once comedy and dancing and couples buying houseplants and Paul Newman eating Thai food, there is now nothing. But if you walk to Kenmore, you’ll find yourself at across from a grey two-story building anchored by the French-Armenian bakery Le Gout. There’s no sign outside, but on the second floor is a place that will remind you that some things are so deeply rooted in Hollywood, that they cannot be driven out.

On that second floor is an acting school.

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Henry Winkler’s Becky’s Baked Beans

3 large cans B&M baked beans

2 teaspoons Worcestershire Sauce

3 tablespoons brown sugar

2 tablespoons bacon fat

1 cup chili sauce

1 tablespoon prepared mustard

1 clove garlic, chopped

½ onion chopped

½ pound grated sharp cheddar cheese

½ pound well fried crumbled sausage

½ pound well fried crumbled bacon

Mix all ingredients well and bake at 375 degrees for 1 ½ hours. Good as one dish metal served with a green salad. I vary ingredients according to my family’s taste. i.e. extra cheese, bacon, garlic, or onions! This is a wonderful recipe.

I was scared to make Henry Winkler’s Becky’s Baked Beans. The recipe is fairly simple, but it’s so much food that I was nervous about making a giant tray of inedible slop. And this dish, even the most tantalizing images on Google, looks like slop. I’ve never had proper southern style baked beans, just the canned variety that tasted like Bush’s squeezed half a bottle of maple syrup into the can. So I was pretty excited to try it even though I’m not much of a Bean Guy*.

I am, however, a beaner. I’ve only been called that slur once in my lifetime. The 2nd day of my freshman year of college, my roommate Kevin, his high school buddy and my new friend Lederer, and I were smoking weed with one of Lederer’s roommates, Kyle. Kyle was a Dodgers fan from a Sacramento suburb (red flag). He was also a guy who casually referred to Mexicans as “beaners” even though the person he met 10 minutes earlier was named Pablo. He turned beet red when Kevin admonished him. I would only see Kyle a few times a year during my college years, but he always looked like an ashamed dog every time he made eye contact with me.

The beans were very disappointing, tasting almost identical to a can of Bush’s Baked Beans. I think the problem with Henry/Becky’s recipe is A. The lack of spicy ingredients and B. The use of canned B&M baked beans instead of plain beans. It overpowers the rest of the ingredients, leaving me with what is, essentially, a tray of canned baked beans.

Oh, and who is Becky? I have no idea. There is nothing online that suggests Henry has any family members named Becky or Rebecca. The southern connection is unclear too, since Henry is a first generation Jewish-American whose parents fled Nazi Germany and settled on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

But can’t you just hear Henry Winkler say “This is a wonderful recipe” in his soft voice? What a nice guy!