Gyu-Kaku Beverly Hills

At Gyu-Kaku, the staff is so unflappable and friendly it seems to have dropped in from another, gentler planet. Where do they find such evolved waiters? Nothing is ever a problem. No one is ever grumpy. A waiter is always there when you need one. The fact that the Korean-style barbecue is both delicious and inexpensive is practically irrelevant.

I've visited the Gyu-Kaku in West Los Angeles, and recently I noticed another had opened in Beverly Hills. (There's a Torrance location too.) Casting about for somewhere to eat on a Monday night, I decided to try it. The place was hopping, even at 9 on a Monday, when we happened to secure the last available table. This location is much bigger and more comfortable than the West L.A. restaurant. Apart from a long communal table in the front room, the seating is in semiprivate booths framed in wooden slats, with rice-paper lanterns swaying overhead. Inside a booth, you feel as if you're in your own little world.

We looked over the large menu, which is as graphically challenged as some websites. No need to make sense of it, though -- just plunge in and order. "NEW!" is emblazoned in front of enough items to mean the menu is constantly evolving. Maybe that's why Japan has more than 800 Gyu-Kaku restaurants.

At this location, the seafood and vegetable categories are beefed up, and specials might include lobster tail in butter. (Note to self: Check out the black pepper shrimp and black pepper calamari.) For the uninitiated, the list of this location's top 10 bestsellers posted on the walls offer clues as to what to order.

We went for the classics -- which, of course, have to include kimchi. The assorted kimchi offers some variety beside the usual cabbage. For an appetizer, we ordered some shishito and watched the hot little green peppers curl and brown on the grill set in the middle of our table.

Personally, I couldn't go to Gyu-Kaku without ordering bibimbap. The rice arrives in a stone bowl so hot that it's practically smoking. Your waiter will ask you how spicy you want it. Say "spicy." And proceed to mix a red chile bean paste into the rice, spread the rice on the sides of the hot bowl and leave them there to develop a wonderful crunchy crust.

If you feel a cold coming on, a bowl of ramen might be in order. It comes in a stone bowl too, a coil of delicious springy noodles in a rich clear broth that's boiling away.

When it's time to get down to the serious business of grilling, think kalbi. You can order the boned short ribs with various marinades: traditional sweet tare, spicy miso, lemon shio (salt), for example. It's only a little bit extra for the premium kalbi tare, and absolutely worth it -- the beef is so tender and flavorful. As the thin strips of beef cook over the charcoal, the edges brown and caramelize, giving each bite a sweet edge.

You can also order steaks, including a 5-ounce Kobe beef, and an array of seafood. Vegetarians aren't left out either, with mixed mushrooms, kabocha squash and other vegetables ready for the grill. Salads, though, are not Gyu-Kaku's best suit.

The restaurant can get pretty raucous at times. The night we were there, the staff must've sung "Happy Birthday" to three or four parties. The foursome next to us were having a swell time sipping soju cocktails and reaching across the table with tongs to turn this or that on the grill. A couple of them got up every few minutes to go out and smoke.

I heard an "mmm" from their table and looked over to find them cooking s'mores -- you know, the Girl Scout campfire dessert. This was the real thing, with regular graham crackers and chocolate bars -- not a pastry chef's haute version, "Mmm," one of the guys murmured as his girlfriend fed him a s'more.

I can only begin to imagine what happy hour must be like when draft Kirin beer goes for 99 cents and the bar serves up White Tigers (white cranberry juice and soju). Wild.