Where to Eat Now

Penang New Yorkers longing for Malaysian cooking have always tended to head to one of the Penangrestaurants out in Flushing or in Manhattan’s Chinatown. When I lived in New York, the various Penangs never seemed quite up to the level of my favorite Los Angeles Malaysian restaurants, but Penang always had great roti canai: delicately crisp flour pancakes as large as crumpled handkerchiefs, served with a small bowl of coconut-scented chicken curry tinted a deep rust color with chile oil. And the roti canai at the first West Coast location of Penang are really very good. After you finish the roti, a bowl of the herbal pork-rib soup called bah kut teh, and maybe a plate of crunchy fried purple eggplant or a dish of the Chinese water spinach kangkong fried with a fistful of the smelly, fermented shrimp paste belacan, you can have another order of pancakes, this time stuffed with ground peanuts and hot syrup for dessert. Are there mediocre dishes at Penang? A few of them: sliced chicken sautéed with mangoes and a violent-red sweet-and-sour sauce; soggy, egg-filled roti telur; a flat basil chicken. But anything on the menu marked by the word sambal, referring to a highly spiced chile paste, is bound to be pretty good. The service is authentically Malaysian, which is to say that the waiters appear at the table at erratic intervals and will let you order four versions of the same dish without comment, but will still make you love them by the end of the meal. 971 S. Glendora Ave., West Covina, (626) 338-6138. Sun.–Thurs. 11 a.m.–10 p.m., Fri.–Sat. 11 a.m.–10:30 p.m. No alcohol. Takeout. Lot parking. MC, V. Dinner for two, food only, $15–$35.JG

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BLD: A most useful restaurant. (Photos by Anne Fishbein)

Danube: Last Bulgarian food for 2,400 miles

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Bin 8945 Wine Bar & Bistro

8945 Santa Monica Blvd.
West Hollywood, CA 90069

Category: Bars/Clubs

Region: West Hollywood

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Porto Alegre The upper-west level of Pasadena’s Paseo Colorado complex is a catalog of mild modern sins, a promenade of cigar stores, wine bars and tea shops, crystal-laden boutiques and holistic-massage parlors, overlaid by a thin film of hot suburban lust. Fitting right in is the new Brazilian churrascaria Porto Alegre, a yawningly huge palace of the basest carnal appetites. Here, dripping rump roasts carved to order from superheated metal swords, fennel-laced sausages and plump chicken legs, crisp-skinned quail and fat prime rib, bacon-wrapped filets and an incongruous side of baked salmon are slipped onto your plate until you grab a waiter’s lapels and shriek “Stop!” There is an enormous salad bar, of course, stocked with smoked salmon, prosciutto and hearts of palm as well as the usual suspects, and warm balls of cheese bread that expand in your belly like some magical diet aid — the establishment wants your stomach to be full for your $35.50 prix fixe. Porto Alegre is neither L.A.’s best churrascaria (that would be Fogo de Chão), its sexiest (By Brazil in Torrance), nor its sleekest (probably Burbank’s Picanha). Its sisters, the massive Green Field restaurants in Covina, Long Beach and Queens, far surpass it in grandeur. Gaucho’s Village in Glendale is homier. But in a mall whose other choices run to Tokyo Wako, Islands and P.F. Chang’s, Porto Alegre might as well be the greatest restaurant in the world. 260 E. Colorado Blvd., Pasadena, (626) 744-0555. Open daily 11 a.m.–10 p.m. Full bar. Parking lot. All major CC. Entrees $18.50–$35. Brazilian. JG$$[

Royal Claytons A blast of Coltrane, a flagon of Fat Tire ale, a flat iron steak with roasted cauliflower and a Sichuan peppercorn sauce — Royal Claytons, a tavern just a whiskey bottle’s toss from the Los Angeles River, is home to all kinds of amenities not usually associated with the way-downtown fringes of the loft district, along with poured-concrete floors, high ceilings and cheese plates. Royal Claytons is one of those restaurants where it is always easier to flag down the DJ than an actual waitress, but in a way that resembles the artists’ hangouts that popped up in Soho and Williamsburg long before all the lofts were snapped up by developers but not before the artists in the neighborhood learned to appreciate steamed mussels with andouille and the more unassuming kinds of Bordeaux. And of course, spring rolls stuffed with the makings of a Philly cheesesteak, and pizzas, like every place in California circa 1985, topped with wild mushrooms and fontina or goat cheese and multicolored peppers. Sometimes there can be an upside to a little gentrification. 1855 Industrial St., dwntwn., (213) 622-0512 or royalclaytonspub.com. Mon.–Fri. 11 a.m.–2 a.m., Sat.–Sun. 6 p.m.–2 a.m. Full bar. Valet parking. AE, D, MC, V. Entrees $12–$26. American. JG$$bÂ?

Royale First comes the concept, in this case a swank 1920s supper club realized by rearranging the bones of a hotel dining room that by all accounts actually did start life in the 1920s as a luxurious supper club, and then hiring a bona fide chef, here Eric Ernest, late of Citrine, to translate the concept into beefsteak and halibut, and thus Royale is born. There will be farmers-market produce and exotic seasonings involved, say a splash of a reduction flavored to resemble the Punjabi lamb stew rogan josh around a mound of raw big-eye tuna with a handful of slivered beauty-heart radish tossed in to provide a bit of crunch. The hamburger is a take on Daniel Boulud’s famous burger at DB in Manhattan, a juicy flavor bomb garnished with braised short ribs and truffled cheese. The scallops, perched on little mounds of mashed potatoes and sprinkled with frizzles of fried leek, are as totally ’80s as a Duran Duran cover. For dessert, there are chocolate platters and bowls of blue cotton candy that resemble the hairdo of The Simpsons’ Sideshow Mel. And as you might expect, the dining room is lubricated with all the laid-back house music you can stand. 2619 Wilshire Blvd., L.A., (213) 388-8488 or royaleonwilshire.com. Lunch Mon.–Fri. 11:30 a.m.–3 p.m., dinner Open daily 5:30–10:30 p.m. (lounge open till 2 a.m.). Full bar. Valet parking. All major CC. Entrees $25–$35. European. JG$$$b[Â?