Finally. The leftovers are gone.
No more turkey. No more stuffing. No more turkey-and-stuffing sandwiches.
Guess you’ll have to make do with some pizza and a whole bunch of gin.
Tip your hat to Fatty’s Public House, a convivial ode to the old-fashioned joys of having one too many (plus pizza), officially open today on La Cienega.
There’s a lot of crushed red velvet going on here, but it’s open and airy and casual—somehow it looks more like an old-timey living room than the inside of Nicole Kidman’s Moulin Rouge elephant. There’s a Hollywoodland sign (yes, with the “land,” so you know they’re thinking yesteryear-ish) and the place is named after Fatty Arbuckle. The silent-film star. He used to live at this address. The block has changed a little since then.
Come here when you’re just starting your night. Or wrapping up your night. Or just... it’s night. And you want a Life of the Party—that’s gin, St-Germaine, grapefruit and champagne—from a lovely young woman in a corset and fishnets.
Then you’ll move on to the meats. Salumi. Pork chops. Pizzas covered in short rib and lamb sausage.
Or... you won’t move on. You can just stick to the drinks and see what happens. That’s cool, too.
Nowhere better to exercise restraint than a place called Fatty’s.
No more turkey. No more stuffing. No more turkey-and-stuffing sandwiches.
Guess you’ll have to make do with some pizza and a whole bunch of gin.
Tip your hat to Fatty’s Public House, a convivial ode to the old-fashioned joys of having one too many (plus pizza), officially open today on La Cienega.
There’s a lot of crushed red velvet going on here, but it’s open and airy and casual—somehow it looks more like an old-timey living room than the inside of Nicole Kidman’s Moulin Rouge elephant. There’s a Hollywoodland sign (yes, with the “land,” so you know they’re thinking yesteryear-ish) and the place is named after Fatty Arbuckle. The silent-film star. He used to live at this address. The block has changed a little since then.
Come here when you’re just starting your night. Or wrapping up your night. Or just... it’s night. And you want a Life of the Party—that’s gin, St-Germaine, grapefruit and champagne—from a lovely young woman in a corset and fishnets.
Then you’ll move on to the meats. Salumi. Pork chops. Pizzas covered in short rib and lamb sausage.
Or... you won’t move on. You can just stick to the drinks and see what happens. That’s cool, too.
Nowhere better to exercise restraint than a place called Fatty’s.
