Where to Eat Now

Comments (0) By Jonathan Gold Thursday, Aug 3 2006

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Mid-Wilshire/Koreatown?Central Los Angeles

El Cholo. Even in the ’20s, Angelenos vaguely remembered that the area used to belong to Mexico, and there have always been Mexican restaurants here that catered to American taste. The emblematic cuisine of these restaurants is embodied in the Number Two Dinner, the eternal combination platter of chile relleno, enchilada, rice and beans bound together with cinctures of orange cheese. And El Cholo’s green-corn tamales have been a rite of spring in Los Angeles since the days when Bob Hope was actually funny. 1121 S. Western Ave., Los Angeles, (323) 734-2773. Mon.–Thurs. 11 a.m.–10 p.m., Fri.–Sat. to 11 p.m., Sun. to 9 p.m. Full bar. Valet parking. AE, D, MC, V. Entrées $6.95–$13.50. Mexican. JG $Â

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Nick & Stef's

330 S. Hope St. (Wells Fargo Center)
Los Angeles, CA 90071

Category: Restaurant > American

Region: Downtown

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West Hollywood/La Cienega

Madeo. Gnocchi (pronounced NYO-kee) are easy to make. Good gnocchi are notoriously difficult. A sous chef we know was once in charge of the gnocchi at a well-known restaurant, and his afternoons were either made or destroyed by the owner’s reaction to the spoonful he offered her every day at precisely 4:30. His gnocchi made it onto the menu only about two days out of five. Madeo, the understated agents’ hangout a few blocks from Cedars-Sinai, resembles a businessmen’s restaurant in one of the lesser quarters of Rome, from its shiny, vaguely disco-era décor to its bunker-like location a few steps below the street. The blistery pizza is fine, and the smoky, fire-roasted veal is renowned. And you can’t miss with the gnocchi — luscious, featherweight clouds of pure potato flavor, dressed with pesto, tomato sauce with basil, or a slightly gooey tincture of Gorgonzola — which may be among the best in Los Angeles. 8897 Beverly Blvd., West Hollywood, (310) 859-4903. Mon.–Thurs. 6–10:30 p.m., Fri.–Sat. 6–11 p.m., Sun. 5:30–10:30 p.m. Full bar. Takeout. Valet parking. AE, MC, V. JG $Âb?

Zeke’s. This mini-chain of barbecue restaurants was conceived by Leonard Schwartz — which is to say, by the chef who reinserted meat loaf into the American canon 20-odd years ago at 72 Market Street. He’s either a compassionate conservative or a card-carrying postmodernist, and it is impossible to tell just which from the evidence of his food alone. Zeke’s plays both sides of the fence in the barbecue game, serving essentially Piedmont-style pulled pork (with the controversial Carolinian mustard sauce), spare ribs that slouch toward a Kansas City style, and fairly magnificent Texas-style brisket, rimmed with a pink rictus of smoke. The side dishes, which are so beside the point at central Texas barbecue stands as to be practically nonexistent, tend to be pretty great — including hush puppies, potato chips fried to order and the only barbecue-hut coleslaw I can ever remember finishing. 7100 Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood. (323) 850-9353. Also 2209 Honolulu Ave., Montrose, (818) 957-7045. AE, MC, V. Lunch and dinner daily. Takeout. Barbecue. JG$$b

Westwood/West L.A.?Century City

Fu Rai Bo. Fu Rai Bo doesn’t just specialize in chicken, but in spicy skewered teba sake chicken wings; not a whole wing, but that spindly middle segment of wing in which a couple of bones form sort of a frame protecting a sweet, if minuscule, oblate ellipse of meat. They’re made for deep-frying the way a chicken breast is for grilling, deeply absorbing Fu Rai Bo’s tart, spicy marinade, greaseless and practically all brittle, crunchy skin. After the chef has dusted them with various white powders and heaped them on plates alongside scoops of shredded cabbage and mayo-intensive chicken salad, you could gnaw through a million of these wings, sucking out the meat, while your teeth seek out hidden crunchy bits. 2068 Sawtelle Blvd., West Los Angeles, (310) 444-1432. Lunch daily 11:30 a.m.–2 p.m. Dinner Mon.–Thurs. 5:30-11 p.m., Fri.–Sun. 5:30–11:45 p.m. Lot parking. Take-out. Beer and wine. MC, V. Pan-Asian. JG $$b

Beverly Hills and vicinity

Mastro’s. One of a small chain of Scottsdale-based steakhouses, Mastro’s has the look — volcanic rock work, blackout curtains, black-leather banquettes — of desert resorts, supper clubs, casinos and other booze-filled refuges where the dreaded sun don’t shine. Eat downstairs for more intimate dining, or upstairs if you’re up to walking the gauntlet of a long bar (where serious drinkers swivel on cue to watch you pass) to get to your seat. The excellent service staff is adept, adaptable and good-natured, even when their customers — Beverly Hills carnivores — are not. Meat dominates the menu; steak to be exact. Order the Kansas City bone-in, the porterhouse or the bone-in rib-eye (the latter, ordered charred rare, is a glorious, rich, big, big-flavored piece of meat with a crusty char oozing juice). Here, rare means rare, i.e., cold inside — yes. Start with the horseradish-spiked caesar salad, or the traditional iceberg wedge with blue cheese. Sides — fried onions, creamed corns, sugar snap peas, potatos gratin — are fresh, enormous, delicious: Split ’em. Finish with a paradigmatic Key lime pie. 246 N. Cañon Dr., Beverly Hills, (310) 888-8782. Open for dinner weekdays 5–11 p.m., weekends 5 p.m.–mid. Entrées $20–$47. Full bar. Valet parking. AE, D, DC, MC, V. American. MH $$$Â?