With Chasen's and Perino's long gone, this Italian mainstay is one of the last bastions of old-school dining in LA.

The jacketed servers and red leather booths hint at the thick history of the dark, intimate space; glossy brick walls are lined with pictures of famous Rat Packers and Hollywood's elite. The maitre d', Ruben, has worked at the restaurant since 1972, and he's quick to tell stories about Ronald Reagan (or Frank Sinatra, while his ghost croons "Fly Me to the Moon" in the background). Three movie producers bought and polished the restaurant in 2003, but the still-unmodern space retains its exclusive evocation of a world before frisee salads and midriff-baring servers. The classic Italian fare—buttery shrimp scampi, Caesar salad prepared tableside, baked clams— is not for the calorie-counter. Skip the risotto in favor of the creamy fettucini Alfredo or rigatoni bolognese.