Last Updated on Monday, 26 October 2009 10:37 Written by Andrew Reeder Sunday, 04 October 2009 10:04

Library - Magic Pan Stories

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The premise of these musings is generically entitled "The Beginning"– which predisposes that the story will continue... I hope that my fellow Lister's can help fill in the blanks and conclude the article.

The Magic Pan Creperie located at Seven Corners was opened in the fall of 1977. I am unsure of when the restaurant actually closed, but the original shopping center was demolished in the mid-1990s. From the start the Pan struggled because even by the late 1970s much of the mall traffic was being siphoned off to newer (and larger) mega-malls at Tysons Corner-- and later to Springfield Mall. By the time the Magic Pan arrived, the shopping Center was like a Grande Old Dame that exhibited some distinct wear around the edges, but still presented a beautiful form.

But, things had been far different in the beginning, before Magic Pan arrived.

Seven Corners Shopping Center opened in 1956, and was the first major shopping center located in suburban Washington D.C., and the largest regional shopping center in Virginia (employing nearly 1,000 people). Located on a 29-acre triangular parcel between the intersections of Arlington Boulevard (Rt 50) and Leesburg Pike (Virginia Rt 7). The mall opened with 45 stores, including: Garfinkel's, Woodward & Lothrop, Woolworth’s Brentano’s Bookstore, S&W Cafeteria, Peoples Drug Store, Raleigh’s, Western Auto, and other local retailers.

Even when I arrived in 1977 there was still a vitality to the Center and the area.

The upper lot near Woolworth’s was a major bus hub for commuters entering the City, and the first several months of training and construction activities were hectic in October of 1977. Mornings offered a small respite in the form an obligatory breakfast at the Woolworth’s diner before dashing down the escalator to the lower level and the Pan.

It was an interesting place to work.

Since it was a new restaurant, besides the usual cadre of General Manager, Senior Assistant, Assistant (and trainee’s)– there was a host from corporate that arrived to train the staff and see it through its first six months of operation.

This is where things get fuzzy.

I believe our GM was named Peter. I remember that the District (or Regional) Manager was always there as well– and then there were the parties.

Magic Pan apparently believed in bonding through socialization because for the first six months we had an official party approximately every 30 days. The first few took place in the Magic Pan itself, but management soon decided (perhaps with some pressure from mall management or the police), that perhaps open debauchery lent a less than professional atmosphere to the restaurant– so they moved the parties to staff residencies.

Everything went.

Food, liqueur, kegs of beer, and music– transported out into the unknowing world– and in one case all the way out to the boonies (at the time) of Chantilly, Virginia.

These were some parties! And, the usual shenanigans popular in the 1970s occurred. It’s a darn good thing the Internet revolution and cell phone technology was years away (though I am sure some embarrassing photographs exist). The Christmas party of 1977 was held at the bar of a local hotel, with several party rooms reserved upstairs. At one point the party downstairs in the bar was fairly deserted because everyone (including corporate) were upstairs partying their hearts out. I remember walking into the bathroom of a suite to find several nameless company bigwigs taking hits from an iced-down glass bong.

There’s more of course, but what happens at the Pan– stays at the Pan (or something like that anyway).

One of the interesting aspects of Seven Corners was the tunnels. Like Tysons and other malls, deliveries were made through underground tunnels. However, Seven Corners had the added benefit of sub-utility tunnels running underneath the first set of access tunnels. This literal maze of pipping and electrical conduits ran for miles, twisting and turning in the subterranean regions of the 29-acre complex. Rumors abounded about additional secret tunnels that ran to D.C., supposedly to be used in case of a national emergency by connected Washington staffers (this rumor later proved partially correct, since a nearby tunnel had been built during the Metro-Rail construction).

Of course the stygian underground drew Pan employees and other mall staff to its nether regions for more practical applications– such as attitude adjustments and other recreational activities. I remember working a Sunday brunch as one-by-one the kitchen staff slipped away to perform various errands until I was alone in the kitchen. Having an inkling of what might be occurring, I headed swiftly to the tunnels and down to the loading dock, where I spied four blue checkered chef hats and a cumulus cloud of rising smoke behind a nearby dumpster.

"Shhhsssss.... I think I heard something?," said one hat followed by a rising blast of smoke and a fit of uncontrollable coughing.

Four heads popped up over the dumpster like a colony of prairie dogs.

"Geeze, we’re busted," noted another hat dryly.

Even though it was passed its heyday, the area surrounding the mall seemed to bustle with activity. Their was a vibrancy that could be felt when visiting Meyer-Emco accross the street or any number of the corner bars or pizza joints. The small brick domiciles which made up the vast majority of the neighborhood had been built during World War II to provide housing for the swarms of government workers who swelled the Capital in the 1940s. Now, after reaching retirement age, many were moving on as new immigrants filled the void. In fact, at least 1/3rd of the kitchen staff was made up of hard-working Vietnamese (boat people). A demographic shift was taking place and the vibrant sound of music and the foreign aromas of exotic dishes overwhelmed the senses.

I worked at Magic Pan through that winter as the daytime HCA as one by one my friends moved on to other jobs. Paul & Mike Prochaska, John Cherry, and others left for one reason or another. And, in the spring, I left for a job in construction, which ended only a few months later after a serious motorcycle accident that July. However, I was not finished with the Pan yet. After convalescing for eight months, I returned to the Pan, but this time as an HCA at Tyson’s Corner.What I remember most about working at Seven Corners was the energy that corporate put into trying to instantly immerse new employees in the Magic Pan way. I spent another 11 years in the restaurant management field, but never again experienced the all-encompassing training efforts practiced by the Pan.

Many local establishments are gone now. Places like Louie’s Rock City, Ollie’s Trolley, JR Hot Shoppes, The Trucker’s Stop, Penguin Feather, Little Tavern, and other destinations are just distant memories-- but some, like the Magic Pan, refuse to die.

Okay, who knows the rest of the Seven Corners Magic Pan story?