A glowing, blue apparition thrusting out of the lower slopes of the Verdugos like the prow of a party barge, Minx is a look back to the world of ’80s Los Angeles restaurants, where the women were women, the men sometimes were too, and we all crowded into megalithic bunkers to dine on rare duck breast, pan-fried endangered species and flagons of lesser California Cabernet Sauvignon. I forget what grilled, impaled animal parts were called back then, but chef Joseph Antonishek, late of O-Bar, runs his skewers of tandoori-spiced chicken and coconut shrimp over flames that are way too hot for them and calls them Fusion Robata. Steak tartare is coarsely chopped, nominally truffled, and served on a bed of chopped hard-boiled egg. Filet mignon is crusted with crumbs of hazelnuts and cocoa nibs — the best you can say is that they don’t seem to harm the meat all that much — and the duck breast, inflected with foie gras, candied ginger, corn pancakes and Chinese five-spice, sparkles with flakes of 14-karat gold. If you long for your lobster to be garnished with licorice-sautéed shrimp, coconut sticky rice and French-pressed Thai broth, Minx, recently converted from a place called the Rusty Pelican, may be for you. Minx, 300 Harvey Dr., Glendale, (818) 242-9191.

—Jonathan Gold

Advertising disclosure: We may receive compensation for some of the links in our stories. Thank you for supporting LA Weekly and our advertisers.