Dive bar, canyon country, Sunday afternoon. Hundreds of motorcycles — literally! hundreds! — pose out front, like some line of mechanical back-country bathing beauties. Classic rock blasts from the live band on stage. The dance floor is jammed and a bit sweaty, just like the tables filled with folks swilling beers, eating burgers, soaking up one of the last remnants of Wild, Wild West remaining in Orange County.
Welcome, folks, to the decidedly scrappy and truly beloved Cook’s Corner — home of “Cold Beer, Good Food, Pool, Entertainment, Dancing, Color TV” — whose devotees will never define it by the horror that visited on Aug. 23, Wednesday Spaghetti Night.
“It’s very personal for me — I made the first spaghetti dinner there, back in ’82, ’83,” said Joanne Hubble, who worked at Cook’s Corner and still lives just 2 miles from the place. “I had the best time of my life there. I was 21, 22, tending bar, cooking — a hamburger was $1.95. We didn’t have a deep fryer, so we served potato chips.”
There was this regular they called “Mayo Dave” because he demanded heaping scoops of the stuff both below — and on top — of his burger patty. On his birthday, they gave him a giant, five-gallon jug of mayonnaise.
There was Big Mac — about 4-foot-10 tall and 2 1/2 feet wide — who’d grab a baseball bat and run after you when he got mad. He was surprisingly fast.
“It was an amazing time,” Hubble said, starting to sing “Those Were the Days, My Friend…We thought they’d never end,” until she dissolved into tears.
It’s a gathering place, with happy hour and open mic night on Mondays, Taco Tuesdays and Thirsty Thursdays. If you look real close, you’ll see that many of the bikers at Cook’s Corner aren’t really, you know, bikers. They’re doctors and lawyers and professionals who do the weekend warrior thing, with motorcycles that are probably worth more than most folks earn in a year. Sure, you can oft buy leather vests and leather hats and leather Harley gear at the bazaar, but you’ll also see kids on their mamas’ laps swilling from juice boxes and toddlers bopping on the dance floor with their dads.
It’s a really relaxed, friendly place, patrons said. The kind of place that has a priest preside over “The Blessing of the Bikes.” The kind of place that has pool tables, but moves them out of the way so people can dance. A true roadhouse with an aggressively old, ungentrified vibe, wherein lies its greatest charm. It’s the canyon version of Laguna Beach’s “Dirty Bird” (the Sandpiper) and Santa Barbara’s Cold Spring Tavern.
It’s a landmark, a way to navigate the back country. When Lucas Dyer got married at a place down the road, no one could find it. Once he said, “Down the road and to the left of Cook’s Corner!” folks found their way.
“It comes off as a well-known biker bar, but it’s not ‘Sons of Anarchy’ style,” said Dyer, a retired Marine and author of “A Battle Won By Handshakes,” his account of fighting in Afghanistan. “It’s more mom and pop. It’s an everyone inclusive, all welcome, all come, family fun kind of environment. Looking at it you might think it’s a sketchy place, but it’s just the opposite. That’s one of the best things about it.”
Cook’s Corner was built in 1884, where Santiago Canyon Road meets Live Oak Canyon Road. It’s named after landowner Andrew Jackson Cook, whose son converted it into a restaurant to supply food to miners and ranchers in 1926. After Prohibition, it became a bar, and has been a fixture ever since, even as it changed owners several times. The biker vibe came on strong with erstwhile owners Victor Villa and Volker Streicek, who ran the Santa Ana motorcycle accessories company Cheat’ah Engineering.
Kirk Bowerman met his wife Lisa there. When Jarod Johnson was just a boy, his dad — a real estate agent — would plop him on a Harley and zip them both to Cook’s Corner, and he’s been a loyal patron ever since. Nicholas Reese, an intern with state Sen. Catherine Blakespear’s office, had his third birthday party there. He placed a bouquet of flowers roadside to honor those lost, and reflected on how important Cook’s Corner is to the very fabric of the community.
It’s the biker bar version of “Cheers,” said regular Cody Ryan, who’s there three or four times a week. Good food, good music, big glasses of whiskey for just $8. It has hosted rides for Children’s Hospital Orange County and to remember 9/11. The Blessing of the Bikes happens each May, led by a priest from St. Michael’s Abbey. Firefighters battling back-country blazes have used it as a gathering place; mountain bikers hitting The Luge use it as a launching pad; even Arnold Schwarzenegger made a stop when he was governor.
Now, it is the site of a tragedy. Yet another mass shooting, right here in O.C. A retired Ventura Police Department sergeant targeting his estranged wife has been identified as the gunman who killed three and injured six others Wednesday night. Hundreds of people sent prayers and love via social media.
“We’ve experienced major earthquakes, forest fires, floods, recessions and other disasters,” Cook’s Corner’s website said even Wednesday. “We’ve gotten through all of them and came out stronger.”
Its fans are certain that it will emerge stronger after this tragedy as well. “I want to see my bar open again,” Ryan said.
At Cook’s Corner, lives remembered: A hero, a noted urban planner and a mom who loved to dance
