N. Galuten

Pastrami on Rye at Langer's

9: Pastrami on Rye at Langer's Delicatessen.

Dozens of food writers and chefs, many greater than ourselves, have said it before: Langer's Delicatessen doesn't just have some of the best pastrami in Los Angeles, but possibly the world. A recent trip to New York, which included a spectacular but ultimately second-fiddle pastrami sandwich from Katz's Deli, served only to prove this rapidly spreading hypothesis.

Located on the eastern edge of MacArthur Park, surrounded by street vendors selling everything from fresh tostones to bootleg DVDs, Langer's is a relic of old Los Angeles. It's waitresses are charmingly brash; the doors shut at 4 p.m. sharp. They don't make 'em like this anymore.

Jo Stougaard/MyLastBite

Ceviche Mixto at Mo-Chica

10: Ceviche Mixto at Mo-Chica

When Ricardo Zarate moved his inaugural restaurant Mo-Chica last year, from a tiny food court space in South L.A. to a hip industrial space near downtown (from 37th and Grand to 7th and Grand, technically) it was a cross-town move worthy of Weezy Jefferson.

But for all the changes -- a swank bar program populated by tart pisco sours; walls full of colorful graffiti murals and a bumping hip-hop soundtrack -- Zarate still stuck to his guns in the kitchen. On the menu were many of the same dishes which had brought him to prominence at Mercado La Paloma, none more so than his succulent Peruvian ceviche.

A. Scattergood

sugar and spice beignets at Hatfield's

11. Sugar and Spice Beignets at Hatfield's.

There are myriad glorious things to find at Hatfield's, Quinn and Karen Hatfield's lovely study in elegance and culinary atavism in what was once Michel Richard's Citrus. There is the open kitchen, in which you can see the chefs in their toques (hence atavistic) cooking your dinner. There are the gorgeous plates that Quinn Hatfield constructs: the beet-cured fluke strewn like magenta ribbons across buckwheat crisps, or the charred Spanish octopus that comes nestled among paprika-spiked potatoes, or the 36-hour braised "pastrami," which is as like pastrami as it is not.

And then there are Karen Hatfield's desserts, which are reason enough to make reservations. Of the many you could order, the one that has been a fixture both at this incarnation of Hatfield's, and the former iteration on Beverly -- as well as, before that, at their restaurant Cortez in San Francisco -- are the beignets, remarkably light pillows of fried dough that come dusted with crystalized sugar rather than the more traditional powdered and rest on the plate like particularly beautiful geometry.

Anne Fishbein

Kalbi at Soot Bull Jeep

12: Kalbi at Soot Bull Jeep.

If a spaceship landed on the outskirts of L.A.'s Koreatown, with it's extraterrestrial inhabitants dead set on experiencing the atavistic pleasure of Korean barbecue, then we would likely point them to Soot Bull Jeep, a loud, bustling brick-lined restaurant on 8th street that resembles one of those dark underground comedy clubs with a dozen or so huge metal grills instead of a brick-backed stage.

While you could find higher quality meat at nearby Park's, or more luxurious service at Soowoon, or a much cheaper all-you-can-eat experience at Castle BBQ down the street, Soot Bull Jeep's most appealing feature is its use of charcoal. It's not just any charcoal, but a kind that sputters and sparks, filling the entire restaurant with a dense cloud of smoke that seems almost thick enough to scoop at with a spoon. Your favorite sweater will undoubtedly stink with charred meat after even the briefest meal, and you will be lucky if doesn't end up speckled with little burn holes from flickering embers.

A. Scattergood

Rivera's tortillas florales

13. Rivera's Tortillas Florales.

It's perhaps fitting that John Sedlar's downtown restaurant Rivera is on Flower St., as one of the few dishes that has been on his ever-changing menu since the place opened is the stunning tortillas florales, simple corn tortillas into which have been pressed fresh flowers.

Of course the tortillas at Rivera are hardly ordinary tortillas anyway, as you'd expect from a chef who spent many of the last few years working on a tamale museum. The folks in the kitchen make nixtamal for the tortillas every day, then the tortillas are formed and griddled for each order, the fresh flowers pressed into the masa one by one, the rose petals and pansies and chives laminated onto the dough like a quilter's gorgeous applique.

A. Scattergood

Spago's baked Jonagold apple

14. Spago's Baked Jonagold Apple.

When Spago closed its Beverly Hills doors over the summer, for a $4 million overhaul, it was not simply for a bit of fresh paint. Wolfgang Puck and his crew, many of whom have been with the Austrian-born chef for well over a decade and in some cases closer to two, were busy in the restaurant's giant kitchen -- the view of which now opened up by huge glass doors -- completely overhauling the menu while the dining room was getting a pretty swank redesign. And while Puck, executive chef Lee Hefter and Spago chef de cuisine Tetsu Yahagi were playing with the savory side of the menu, longtime Spago pastry chef Sherry Yard was maybe having even more fun.

T. Nguyen

Fish tacos at Ricky's Fish Tacos

15: Fish Taco from Ricky's Fish Tacos.

There's so much to love about Ricky's Fish Tacos" target="_blank">Ricky's: Ricky Piña himself, who couldn't find good enough Ensenada-style fish tacos in L.A. to satisfy him, so he started making them himself. The location, in a parking lot on Virgil Ave. -- if you didn't know better, you'd drive by and assume you were witnessing a backyard get together and not a place of commerce. The fleeting nature of the operation: Ricky fries when he wants, usually Thurs.-Sun., and the act of having caught him here doling out his tacos, the feeling of luck as you stand in the parking lot and wait for your taco, makes it all the more magical (follow him on Twitter for updates on when he's serving).

B. Addison

Creamy pumpkin soup at BeirBeisl

16: Creamy pumpkin soup at BierBeisl.

It's true: autumn brings with it way too many pumpkin-flavored things. And, yet not enough pumpkin soup. Butternut squash seems to have become the fall soup of choice for many chefs, leaving the pumpkin to its fate in latte land.

But not at BierBeisl, Beverly Hills' Austrian den of sausage and schnitzel. This modest restaurant from chef-owner Bernhard Mairinger is home to some seriously cool food, including the best soup of the fall thus far.

Flickr/My Last Bite

Green Curry Mussels at Jitlada

17: Green Curry Mussels at Jitlada.

If there is one menu in town that has the best chance of being written about by cultural anthropologists twenty years from now, it's undoubtedly Jitlada's collection of Southern Thai specialities, whose epic range of toxic-smelling curries and fiery salads has become a firm part of L.A. canon.

A. Scattergood

Matsuhisa's yellowtail scallion donburi

18: Matsuhisa's Yellowtail Scallion Donburi.

You may be able to eat chef Nobu Matsuhisa's stunning Peruvian-influenced Japanese cuisine at one of his many restaurants around the world, the Nobus in Aspen or the Bahamas or London or Milan or Greece or Tokyo. (One could go on.) Or at one of the two Nobus in Los Angeles, either the palace on La Cienega in what was once L'Orangerie, or the newly opened beachside fish museum in Malibu, which Matsuhisa had built right on the Pacific. One might consider it the anti-Gladstones.

But if you want to experience the chef's food in a somewhat more comforting environment, you might stroll in off the street some lunchtime -- no reservations, no valet needed -- and sit down at the sushi bar at Matsuhisa. Matsuhisa is the chef's original restaurant, which he opened in 1987 and almost closed in 2006 when he and business partner Robert de Niro opened the Nobu just up the street. They didn't close it, for which both its regulars and the rest of the city should be profoundly grateful.