Mendoian – Academiei


…pravalia de pe Academiei a fost binecuvantata, a fost cea mai tare unitate de cafea din Bucuresti, avea un subsol imens acolo erau masinile de prajit cafea…



Acolo se prajeau 15-20 de saci de cafea pe zi, avea totusi un handicap pentru ca cel mai bine e sa ai masinile de prajit la vedere, sa vada clientul, sa miroasa cafeaua proaspat prajita… Magazinul de la Danielian a trecut pe mana fiului sau Azad, zis si Pasalica, de la Azad a preluat Mendoian care era bun prieten cu Mizil. Dupa plecarea in `70 a lui Mendoian pravalia a fost preluata de Gaizak Ohanesian, care acum e in Los Angeles.

Povestite de Haig Papugian

… Mendoian era un armean solid şi înalt, purta barbă, avea multe relaţii şi era foarte generos. Avea un magazin foarte frumos amenajat pe Academiei la nr.1, parcă era din 1001 de nopţi, era plin de toate mărfurile din lume. Era atât de generos încât, atunci când aducea câte un transport de cafea şi chema oameni la descărcat, le plătea la fiecare pentru o zi de descărcat sacii de cafea, echivalentul unui salariu mediu din acea vreme.

Povestite de Gheorghe Florescu

… Mendoian a preluat magazinul de coloniale de pe Academiei de la Derenig Danielian, un mare negustor din acele timpuri, avea firma Cafea Ideal, magazin foarte frumos amenajat, cu un mobilier oriental, aveai impresia că te afli într-un palat din Bagdad, toate vasele de expunere erau din aramă, era spectaculos…Danielian avea şi o fabrică de dulciuri. Danielian era prieten cu Gheorghiu Dej iar, cand acesta din urma a fost intr-o vizita in URSS si de acolo ajuns si in Armenia, si l-a invitat si pe Danielian sa-l insoteasca.

Povestite de  Haig Keskerian

de la Danielian a preluat Mendoian pe Academiei nr.3, eu l-am angajat cand lucram la Ministerul Comertului, era un mare domn, foarte fin, foarte generos şi galant. El a lucrat întâi împreună cu Gaiţak Ohanesian şi apoi a rămas doar el iar, după ce a plecat Mendoian, magazinul a fost preluat de un lucrator al lui.

Povestite de Armenica Sahaghiean




…the shop on Academiei was blessed, it was the best coffee establishment in Bucharest, it had a huge basement where there were coffee roasting machines… 15-20 bags of coffee were roasted there, it still had a handicap because it’s best to have the roasting machines in sight, for the customer to see, to smell the freshly roasted coffee… The store from Danielian passed into the hands of his son Azad, also called Pasalica, from Azad Mendoian, who was a good friend of Mizil, took over . After the departure of Mendoian in `70, the role was taken over by Gaizak Ohanesian, who is now in Los Angeles. Narrated by Haig Papugian. Narrated by Haig Papugian

… Mendoian was a solid and tall Armenian, he wore a beard, had many connections and was very generous. He had a very nice store on Academiei at no. 1, as if it was from 1001 nights, it was full of all the goods in the world. He was so generous that when he brought in a shipment of coffee and called people to unload it, he paid them each for a day to unload the coffee bags, the equivalent of an average wage at that time. Narrated by Gheorghe Florescu

… Mendoian took over the colonial shop on the Academiei de la Derenig Danielian, a great merchant of those times, had the Cafea Ideal company, a very nicely decorated shop, with oriental furniture, you had the impression that you were in a palace in Baghdad, all the display dishes were made of copper, it was spectacular… Danielian also had a sweets factory. Danielian was a friend of Gheorghiu Dej and when the latter was on a visit to the USSR and from there to Armenia, he invited Danielian to accompany him. Narrated by Haig Keskerian

… from Danielian, Mendoian took over Academiei no. 3, I hired him when I was working at the Ministry of Commerce, he was a great gentleman, very fine, very generous and gallant. He first worked together with Gaiţak Ohanesian and then he remained alone and, after Mendoian left, the store was taken over by one of his workers.
Narrated by Armenica Sahaghiean


  1. Suren Mendoian made a big impact on me when i met him at his restaurant Brashov in Los Angeles in the 80’s. He was just as everyone describes him here. His hospitality changed my life, I wish I could have stayed in contact with him. Thank you.

  2. i found this review of mr mendoian’s restaurant “brashov” in los angeles which was at the corner of vermont and fountain in hollywood. the review was published in the l.a times on Thursday, March 8, 1984. It was written by Miv Schaaf.
    “Cup of Joy and a Bit of Romania
    She reminds me of a happy pirate among congenial mates. It is not so much the red bandanna slung around the neck of the black jersey above white sailor pants, it is the way she moves, almost running along the deck, uh, floor, her black hair short but swinging, energy to climb the mizzen mast in minutes. But she isn’t in the rigging: she runs in and out of the kitchen bringing food in parentheses of laughter. She puts down a steaming plate in front of the man at the sunlit table next to us. “This is– I don t know what this is,” doubling over in laughter, “we’re out of lamb. This is a special. That’s it, a special! If you don’t like it, I’ll get something else.”
    Every table seems already full but people keep coming in, and a tiny table appears in front of the refrigerator, another sidles out from next to the delicatessen case. Pirate dashes to the glass front door and turns the hanging cardboard OPEN around to CLOSED. “No more bread!”” she cries, holding up ner nands. “Here!”” a man near the door smiles at his wife and holds aloft his wire basket of French bread. “Aha!”” Pirate cries and turns the sign to OPEN again. Minutes later the CLOSED sign faces the street, but two young women appear at the glass door and are beckoned in. Then a woman and her little boy come through the door “Is it too late to . . . ?” “What table you like?” says Pirate. Another table materializes, hugging the candy counter. A man emerges from behind the cash register, carrying a glass of milk –he must work here. No, he sits at the table next to the door, opening his newspaper; definitely the kind of restaurant you read a newspaper in. Another couple come confidently through the CLOSED door, ordering borscht.
    “Are you ever really closed?” I ask pirate waitress. She laughs. “Sometimes we put that CLOSED sign up, but it doesn’t mean anything. Someone comes, they drive 25 miles for oUr chocolate cake, how can we turn them away?”
    “I’ll buy you a glass of wine if you tell me about this place.” I say. “You’re all related, aren’t you?” She brings two glasses of wine. “Sure,” pushing her hair back, “otherwise I wouldn’t be able to kid around this place, I’d be fired. That’s my father –don’t we look alike?”
    They don’t really, except for a determined look about the jaw and the same let’s-have-a-good-time-right-now attitude.
    I could tell her father owned the restaurant as soon as he entered from the street, a navy beret pulled forward almost down to his eyebrows over his white hair, a knit sweater vest over his shirt. He gave a sleepy smile and a nod to every table, good friends all, as he walked to his post behind the cash register.
    Suren Mendoian is his name, Armenian, but born and bred in Romania like the wine we are drinking. “Brashov, the name of this restaurant– is that a family name?” “No. A mountain resort in Romania, a beautiful place.”
    Well, why not a Romanian resort in Los Angeles on the corner of Vermont and Fountain? Liz is the pirate’s name [Elise mendoian, currently an attorney in Los Angeles]; she comes in to help on nights or weekends. She is a modern pirate, working on computer programs with an MS “that’s more of the BS” from Cal State L.A.
    She has worked at a stockbroker’s and is studying law, interested in international transportation, financing, import, export. And, more importantly, enjoying life. “Here, you have to see,” pulling photos from her pocket; “my niece, Stephanie Ann Marie Bughi. Pronounced Boogie. I think they ought to call her Get Down. She’s a year old and when she sees me she says, ‘Hi, baby.’
    They don’t give bills; Mr. Mendoian just asks what we had and puts down some things and leaves off others. First he opens a box of Turkish delight “Oh, look at the camels on that box,” Gia has pointed and insists my daughter try it. “Take the rose petal one. Now try this lemon kind. These are lime.”
    He passes the box to another customer who makes a face as the candy sugar powders his suit jacket, cause for laughter all around. Mr. Mendoian appreciates my daughter’s considered appreciation of rose petal candy. “Now here,” he puts candies on the counter “is orange candy from Israel. They make the best orange and Jordan almonds they originally came from Armenia and these are sesame, and try these. Here’s a bag for you.”
    We leave grinning, with our uncharged wine and coffee Inside us, carrying our uncharged candy. “Good night,” we say to Gabi as we open the door; “Good night,” we call to the others, There aren’t too many restaurants left where you say good night to all your friends as you leave.”

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