Flaming cakes and drunken lobsters : At El Mocambo the food is a tropical fantasy

El Mocambo, 8338 W. 3rd St., Los Angeles. (213) 651-2113. Open for lunch and dinner daily (Sunday brunch). Full bar. Valet parking. All major credit cards accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $35-$80.

The waiters gather around the table behind us. One of us groans. The waiters hitch up their ruffled sleeves and begin to sing: “Hap . . . py . . . Birth . . .” they croon as the kitchen door opens and the cake, held high above our heads, soars toward the table in a blaze of flames. “How many candles are on that cake?” someone at our table wonders as the singing reaches a crescendo and the cake is plunked in front of the birthday boy. And just then we see--there are no candles. The entire cake is on fire.

El Mocambo would be a perfect place to celebrate a birthday. It’s filled with all the innocent fantasy of a child’s birthday party: Fake tropical trees, theatrical lighting, tables topped with ceramic leopards lounging next to wooden maracas (which shake salt and pepper all over the table when you pick them up). The waiters slink around in rumba costumes and the hostess wears an impossibly tight dress. Half the diners look as if they were on their way to a costume party, and by the time you’ve finished a Babaloo-loo-loo (three kinds of rum, pineapple, orange and cranberry juices) or a Desi Arnaz (a martini made with banana Schnapps) you’ll probably feel as if the party’s for you.

So go ahead--the drinks really are delicious. Avoid the Mangorita (fresh mango, Mohala liqueur, tequila, lemon and lime do not shake themselves into a wonderful frenzy), and opt for Guanatanamo Bay (three kinds of rum, Frangelico, pineapple, mango, lemon and lime juices) or the turquoise Blue Beguine (you probably don’t want to know what’s in it). If you’re not feeling adventurous, there’s always a Pina Colada.

El Mocambo calls itself Cuban, but it is the Cuba of tourists in those days before the revolution brought the good times for foreigners skidding to a stop. The food here is a throwback, the sort of stuff that someone dreaming of life on a lazy tropical isle might conjure up. Many of these dishes seem rooted not in reality, but in some imaginary land.

Does anybody in the real world actually eat langosta borracha-- a whole lobster, broiled in garlic and lemon, then flamed with Bacardi 151 rum? Probably not. But if you’ve been fantasizing about white sand and azure seas, this is the dish for you. It arrives on a huge blue platter decorated with banana leaves. The lobster in this case is perfectly cooked and though I wouldn’t want every lobster to have to undergo this treatment, eaten here it tastes pretty good.

Most of the other dishes on the menu have a similar fantasy quality. Do real Cubans sit down to corn chowder as rich and creamy as this one? Probably not, but we eat every drop. And they probably don’t dip their croquettes (made of chicken, shrimp or vegetables) into a salsa concocted out of pineapples, onion and mint either . . . but they should.

Appetizers are such perfect little tidbits that we end up eating them with our fingers. We dip fried slices of plantain into black bean sauce. We pick up babaloo boats--chicken mousse wrapped up in plantains and cooked until crisp--and top them with more of that fine pineapple salsa.The shrimp tamale isn’t exactly finger food, but it is sweet and seductive--a pillow of corn topped with a saute of shrimp and vegetables that has just the tiniest bit of bite. We eat it and order another. Bocaditos de pollo --teensy tortillas topped with a tangle of tomato, chiles and chicken--look like something Carmen Miranda should be wearing on her head. The presentation here is campy, the flavors so aggressively sweet and forward that the food tastes as colorful as it looks.

It’s no surprise to discover that the salads aren’t wonderful. Salad, the dutiful food your mother thinks is good for you, has no business being here. Pescado del dia-- fish of the day--probably falls into the same category. Today it is a soggy sea bass that tastes as if chef Toribio Prado (who was responsible for all that fabulous food at Cha Cha Cha) just doesn’t have his heart in it.

Try a shrimp dish instead. Ours comes out on one of those big blue platters, surrounded by more bright yellow rice than we really want to eat. Chino y Cubano-- tropical fried rice made with shrimp, crab, chicken and vegetables, then topped with bean sprouts--is a sort of silly dish that fits right into the program. It certainly makes more sense than the paella, which takes itself very seriously--at $25 it should--but just isn’t very good.

The best dishes tend to be made with meat or chicken. A grilled breast of chicken is marinated in garlic, lime, rum and spices--it’s delicious. Pork is cooked with lemon, garlic and oregano and served in various cuts. Steak comes in many incarnations too: I’m particularly fond of the New York steak that is smothered in a tangy sauce of sauteed onions, tomatoes, garlic, black beans and lots of spices. The earthy flavor of cumin mingles with the bittersweet bite of tamarind to give this steak an exotic tinge. Served with fried yuca (the starchiest substance on earth), black beans and rice or crisply fried tostones (plantains), it is a dish that makes us feel like rich tourists on a binge.

If you really want to go on a binge, have another drink for dessert. We’re doing just that, having tried brazo gitano (literally “Gypsy’s arm”), a jellyroll of a cake that is more sweet than anything else. We tasted the flan (not fabulous) and the rice pudding (decidedly forgettable) too. On the other hand, we just couldn’t pass up that flaming tarte tatin. It might not be anybody’s birthday, but we can pretend. Who knows how long it will be until we find another cake that comes down to the table in flames?

Recommended dishes: corn chowder, $5; shrimp tamale, $10; marinated breast of chicken, $10.50; N.Y. steak, $15; tarte tatin, $5.