Long before we were Instagramming our dinners, actor Johnny Harlow was slinging steaks and martinis at Dear John’s. Open since 1962, this Culver City legend sits just a short stumble from Sony Studios, which means it has long been the kind of place where Frank Sinatra himself could be spotted holding court. (Imagine the martini tab!)

Fast-forward to today, and the restaurant is in the hands of a culinary dream team: award-winning chef and carb king Hans Rockenwagner (his bakery empire has basically supplied half of L.A. with bread since 2006), two-star Michelin chef Josiah Citrin (of Melisse and Charcoal Venice fame just to mention a few!), and branding guru Patti Rockenwagner, who makes sure the whole operation sparkles. Together, they’re serving up old-school glamour with a side of modern polish.

Step inside and prepare for time travel. It’s dark—like “did someone dim the lights, or am I in a Sinatra biopic?” dark. You half-expect to see the Rat Pack in a corner booth, clinking glasses. First things first: order a martini. Cold, crisp, perfect. Then dive into the classics. The Caesar Salad for Two is a showstopper, the French Onion Soup could cure a broken heart, and the garlic bread? Let’s just say you might consider proposing to it.

For mains, the prime rib is the star—tender, juicy, and basically beef butter. Seafood fans, do not skip the Sand Dabs with caper butter—these little guys are so flavorful they deserve their own fan club. Sides are anything but an afterthought: the German potatoes are crispy, oniony perfection, while the Bougie Tots (yes, tots with caviar, salmon roe, crème fraîche, and chives) make you feel fancy and nostalgic at the same time.

Now, fair warning: a night here is like stepping back into the 1960s—but your wallet will definitely know it’s 2025. Reservations are non-negotiable. Two-tops get 90 minutes, four-tops get two hours, and you’ll need a credit card to book. Cancel within 48 hours and you’ll be hit with a $25-per-person fee, which is basically the universe’s way of saying: “Don’t ghost Dear John’s.”

Bottom line? Come for the Rat Pack vibes, stay for the garlic bread, and leave plotting your next excuse to come back.