"There are few secrets left in the neighborhood around Melrose and Fairfax. The intersection—and the several blocks in any direction—attracts a steady stream of hype-beast sneaker boys, ink shop influencers, and floppy-hatted plant girls fighting it out at Fairfax Flea. The attention can be overwhelming, which is why you’ll usually find us hanging at Carlitos Gardel when we’re in the area. The family-run Argentinian restaurant is a rare beast in this part of LA: A mature, old-school neighborhood spot hiding in plain sight. No TikTokers or ring lights, just good food, a warm space filled with regulars who probably walked there, and a waitstaff who knows them by name. Carlitos Gardel is an Argentinian steakhouse, which means one thing: You’re going to eat a lot of red meat. Giant carving boards piled with juicy seared filet mignon, skirt steak, and ribeye parade out of the kitchen like a holiday banquet. Servers carve the meat tableside, as everyone at your table dips and drizzles the house chimichurri over everything in arm’s reach. Dessert trays whiz by filled with flan and chocolate tarts. Glasses of red wine never fall below half-full. It’s why every meal here, even on a quiet Tuesday, has the energy of a celebratory dinner. Nothing about Carlitos is too stuffy though, because this is the kind of restaurant where half the tables on a given night have standing reservations. “How are the kids? Did Alex get into Santa Barbara? We’re replacing the roof.” All things you’ll probably overhear between the staff and nearby tables throughout the night. In some corners of the city, this might not be that noteworthy, but here, it’s therapeutic—the low-lit lighting, classical music, and vintage black-and-white photographs on the walls all help with the escapism. But so does being in a place happily unattached from trends, where conversations fill the room and the food leaves everyone in a rich stupor. The hype beasts can have their sneakers, we’ll gladly take the stupor. " - Brant Cox
