The Grand Luxe Cafe is new to LA, an import from Las Vegas. Its roots are showing. Cavernous interior, baroque design elements that should clash but somehow don't, and a long wait. It takes itself a little too seriously.

Then again, maybe it fits right in here.

The number of people waiting in the foyer would fill another restaurant.

Down the Spanish-influenced hallway into the Italianate ballroom -- I mean main room.

The ghost busboy.

The waiter with his white kerchief (well, okay, napkin). Right pocket means I Surrender.

There is nevertheless something oddly lovely about the place.

And the food's not bad.