RESTAURANT REVIEW : The Food’s the Star at 24-Hour Pennyfeathers

Are those actors, maybe? Pennyfeathers is the La Cienega cousin of a Greenwich Village hangout, a 24-hour place that’s said not to really get going until after midnight. Of course it’s only about 7 now, but possibly the striking, gorgeously dressed young couple that just glided in the door might be the first swallows of spring, as it were.

No. No, they’re probably models. For one thing, their clothes are fiercely up-to-date. If they were actors and they could afford these clothes, their faces would have to be familiar. And they might be striking poses, but they don’t seem to be trying to think of dynamite things to say to each other at the same time.

Frankly, I’m having a few doubts. Pennyfeathers doesn’t really look much like a hangout for exotic post-midnight types. It’s what you might call a neutral or background-type environment, a shoe-box room lightened by white walls and track lighting and the occasional high-style poster. Plus a whole lot of potted plants, so many you expect to find a sign reading, “Every Plant on These Walls for Sale.”

Now three young men are striding in the door, dressed as ruggedly as bike-riding bandits. They’re probably not actors, though, more likely fringies. They have the look of having given up the hope that one day the whole world’s going to be gazing at them.

So we can go back to our food. What do we have here? As a 24-hour place, Pennyfeathers is, in effect, a sort of upscale version of the Pantry. There are moments of Italian food, and a quiche du jour , but basically it’s American fare.

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Exhibit No. 1: the burger. Pennyfeathers boasts of 40 burgers here, presumably based on combinations of condiments that can be added, at 80 per. It’s a good burger, anyway, a thick grilled patty on a whole wheat bun with lettuce, onion and tomato on the side awaiting your specific orders. Incidentally, if you ask for salsa as one of the options, it doesn’t come on the burger but in a separate bowl for dipping; a good idea, if a bit East Asian for the burger context.

Exhibit No. 2: barbecue. The chicken and the ribs are decently barbecued, but the surprise is that the sauce is not the dilettantish sort you’d expect in a place that has a pasta of the day. It’s a real central city model, not terribly hot but full-flavored and probably based on grape jelly rather than molasses. This excellent sauce occasionally comes with other things, such as a special appetizer called “a loaf of fried onions”--onion rings, that is, a little loosely breaded but nice and sweet.

Exhibit No. 3: the short ribs. These are, surprisingly, not the usual rib tips with noodles but a flanken cut of braised beef over which a sauce of tomato, carrot and celery have later been poured, giving a moderately convincing last-minute impression of a home-style pot roast. It comes with a whole lot of perfectly cooked broccoli.

The Italian side of Pennyfeathers is a lasagna on the unchanging menu augmented by pastas of the day, which often seem to be variations on fettuccine Alfredo. I’ve had a fettuccine with somebody else’s Italian name that was Alfredo plus some Italian sausage, with about half a loaf of mild garlic bread inserted into it around the edges of the plate. It did not seem likely to make the new guy’s name as famous as Alfredo’s, but it wasn’t bad.

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In the best 24-hour tradition, Pennyfeathers makes decent soups. They change all the time, but I’ve had a tomato soup that was thick and sweet (like Campbell’s, come to think of it, only with chunks of onion in it), and a thinner tomato soup with hot pepper and navy beans in it, and a pretty good turkey-vegetable soup that was unfortunately misnamed “turkey gumbo.”

Pennyfeathers also serves a good old-fashioned root beer. And the basic dessert menu is best when it runs to chocolate. There’s a chocolate cake that is as chocolatey as can be. “I don’t care how bad you feel,” says my guest, sinking her fork into it again, “you’ll feel OK when you eat this,” a chocolate Grand Marnier mousse cake with chocolate cookie crust.

OK, in the door come two women of considerable self-possession. They sit down in a corner and wave for a waiter. Actresses at last?

No, probably antique-shoppers from up La Cienega. I have to face the fact that I’m not going to get the full use of Pennyfeathers. I just dine too early in the evening.

Suggested dishes: tomato soup (cup), 95 cents; barbecued ribs, $10.95; chocolate cake, $2.95.

Pennyfeathers, 631 N. La Cienega Blvd., Los Angeles. (213) 659-3545. Open 24 hours. Full bar. Street parking. American Express, MasterCard and Visa accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $16 to $40.