Miceli's

On the stretch of Cahuenga Blvd., Italy intersects with Disneyland. Though these directions may sound surreally jumbled, they lead directly to Miceli’s—a Los Angeles version of Italy mixed with a dash of fantasy and theatrics.

Heading down the gray city street, the smell of the bread that the restaurant is known for wafts warmly into my nostrils. The smell of bread is accompanied by cheerful singing. Judging from sound alone, the place possesses a vibe that is more likely to be found at a house party than at a restaurant. Hoots and hollers can be heard amidst glasses clinking and a woman singing opera. As I pass under a neon sign boasting “serving until 12,” I wonder what exactly I’m entering into.

The restaurant is a theatrical version of Italy. Plastic checkered tablecloths that probably wouldn’t be found in Rome or Venice bedeck the tables. A red sign flashing “Vino” that looks like it came from the same origins as “Live Nudes” down the street flaunts itself over the bar in all of its promising glory. Like Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman,” it is charming in its provocation.

Walking inside, I find that I’m not supposed to actually feel like I’m indoors. The restaurant is flanked by brick arches that are being swallowed up vines and hanging plants. Each wall gives a different view of the painted countryside. Red, white, and green lights are draped throughout the restaurant. Sitting next to a high fence, I almost forget I’m surrounded by In ‘N Outs and porn chains. In fact, I forget I’m inside at all.

One reminder that I’m sitting in a restaurant in Los Angeles is the collection of headshots covering the entry wall. At first glance, I merely suppose they’re of B-list actors I don’t recognize. I soon realize, however, that the aspiring talents covering the walls are actually the servers. The hollers heard earlier had been for their performances. In between taking orders and running food, each server performs on a stage in the middle of the restaurant. Accompanied by a swanky man on the piano, they belt soul songs like “At Last” or theatre classics like “Hello Dolly.” After taking my table’s order, our waitress takes the stage and delivers a sultry rendition of “Can’t Help Loving that Man of Mine.” Breathless, she smiles at the applause. As soon as she hops down, however, her post-performance high disappears as the manager tells her to take Table 5.

The traditional smells of Italian food—heavy garlic and sumptuous tomatoes—draw me back to reality. Though the service is flashy, the food is authentic. Micheli’s was the first Italian restaurant to open in Los Angeles, on what was once known as Restaurant Row. Family-owned, the restaurant survived as the eateries surrounding it like “The Roaring 20’s” and “The Gay 90’s” (as in the 1890’s, when the owners probably had no idea they were foretelling the future), slipped away.

As various dishes temptingly waft by me, the bread comes and I learn why it’s so popular. The rolls are light and heavy at the same time, with flaky layers surrounding a thick center that’s just barely cooked enough. The service is as quick as the restaurant is flashy, and our calamari arrives in minutes. The calamari is deep-fried with a heavy tomato sauce that could stand as a dish by itself. For the most part, the food is like the atmosphere—it’s good in a way that knocks you in the head with a stocking-ed heel rather than introduces itself subtly to your palette. The veal, particularly the Veal Milanese, is so heavily breaded that the meat barely makes an appearance. However, the pastas and pizzas are excellent, proving that the restaurant specializes in starches and spices rather than meats. The creamy pesto fettucini is smooth and the sauce is surprisingly light. Desert can be side-stepped, but the canolis are recommended by the singing staff.

What with the heavy food, the illusion of an outdoor veranda, and the sneakily singing wait-staff that sprung up behind me just as I was taking a sip of my water, Mecili’s left me feeling a bit disoriented. However, that is the charm of it. Mecili’s doesn’t claim to be subtle or classy. Like Disneyland, it creates a fantasy world that is both ludicrous and charming. Fun-dining, this place is perfect for family gatherings, people who are bored with the manners that accompany high-class restaurants, and birthday outings looking for a more entertaining song than “Happy Birthday.”

3655 Cahuenga Blvd W.
Universal City, CA 90068
Phone: (323) 851-3344
http://www.micelisrestaurant.com/
Serves until 12 a.m. everyday
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