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Phil Rosenthal, creator of Everybody Loves Raymond and the warm-hearted host of Netflix’s Somebody Feed Phil, is opening a diner in Los Angeles that’s as personal as it gets. Called Max & Helen’s, the restaurant honors his late parents and reflects his love for community, comfort food, and the fading charm of neighborhood spots.
An intimate tribute in the heart of Larchmont
Max & Helen’s isn’t just another trendy eatery nestling into a Los Angeles street. It’s Rosenthal’s answer to a changing neighborhood landscape, where beloved local businesses are being replaced by impersonal global chains. Located in Larchmont Village, one of L.A.’s last true small-town-feel neighborhoods, the diner is named after Rosenthal’s parents, Max and Helen, whose stories and personalities fans may recall from small appearances in his Netflix series.
For Rosenthal, opening this restaurant is a “labor of love”, not a business move. “I’m not here to make money,” he says, adding with a chuckle, “I’d like to not lose money.” That honest, unpolished sincerity is exactly what endears him to so many.
The restaurant is co-founded with celebrated chef Nancy Silverton, known across L.A. for her culinary expertise and rigorous standards. She and Rosenthal had previously cooked together during his home screenings of new films, a charming glimpse into his private world. That sense of shared experience—a good meal, a good film, good company—is woven into the very DNA of Max & Helen’s. To read Pluribus finale shocks fans as season 2 faces long wait
Comfort food crafted with care
The menu is focused on the kind of food that doesn’t try too hard but still leaves a lasting impression. Think of things you’d find in a classic American diner, but done with real care and ingredients that speak of intention:
- Open-faced turkey sandwiches
- Club sandwiches made with Japanese milk bread
- Matzo ball soup, homemade, naturally
- Smoked salmon platters featuring Courage sesame bagels
These are dishes rooted in memory. And it’s not hard to imagine they’re also rooted in Rosenthal’s family kitchen. The diner takes cues from Maine’s Palace Diner—an institution featured in his show—because diners, he says, are “democratic places.” Places where anyone can sit down, feel welcome, and eat something that reminds them of where they came from.
A comedian who became a food ambassador
Before his global food adventures, Rosenthal was best known as the creator and showrunner of Everybody Loves Raymond, the family sitcom that quietly became one of the biggest TV hits of its era. Running from 1996 to 2005, the show wasn’t flashy, but it had heart and real humor—just like Phil himself.
After CBS passed on a spinoff idea centered around supporting characters (played by Brad Garrett and Rosenthal’s actual wife, Monica Horan), Phil pivoted. Instead of chasing the next big sitcom, he started following his real-life appetite.
That led to I’ll Have What Phil’s Having on PBS, a sort of trial run for what would become his Netflix show. With his wry charm and wide-eyed enthusiasm, Rosenthal portrayed travel less as adventure and more as discovery—with food at the center. He once called himself, self-deprecatingly, “Anthony Bourdain if he was afraid of everything.” And yet, that very honesty is what makes people respond to him. To read Taylor Swift opens up in final Eras Tour docuseries episode
One of the last standing Netflix originals
Somebody Feed Phil has quietly become one of Netflix’s longest-running original series, though it never gets the powerhouse marketing push. It survives largely through its loyal fan base and the relatively low costs of its production.
Still, Rosenthal admits, “Every year we don’t know if we’re getting picked up or not.” It’s a situation many creators face in the changing streaming landscape, where longevity isn’t always valued. Netflix, true to form, has not commented on the show’s future.
As a viewer, that uncertainty hurts. There’s something sincerely relaxing about watching Rosenthal discover a dish, tear up at a good story, or laugh awkwardly with strangers who quickly become friends. If Somebody Feed Phil were to disappear, we’d lose one of the few travel shows that feels like sharing dinner with someone you genuinely like.
Beyond TV: reshaping the world he loves
Outside the screen, Rosenthal has put his money where his heart is. He’s invested in over two dozen high-end restaurants in Los Angeles, including Providence, which boasts three Michelin stars. Why? Not for profit. He says he sees these investments as a contribution to the kind of world he wants to live in.
That hope—to shape the culture not with lecture but invitation—feels like the common thread in everything he does. Whether building sitcom families, traveling to Hanoi, or opening a diner with his parents’ names above the door, Rosenthal is creating spaces where people feel welcome.
A fame that fits
Rosenthal is now a public figure, especially among food show watchers. But he still beams with a kid-like excitement when fans approach him to say, “We went to Portugal because of you.” His daughter Lily points out that he’s exactly the kind of person who thrives in this type of fame: approachable, nice, genuinely thankful.
Ray Romano, who played his on-screen counterpart for nearly a decade, says people now embrace Rosenthal as someone “they know”—someone who guides them into new worlds, not with bravado, but with kindness and curiosity.
At a time when streaming algorithms reward noise and novelty, and neighborhoods lose their soul to chains, Phil Rosenthal is doing something radical by comparison: making a home. A show, a restaurant, even just a matzo ball soup that feels like someone remembered your name. And maybe, that’s enough.
