Hungry for More? : If the Clubs Close Too Early for Your Tastes, Check Out L.A.’s <i> Really </i> Late-Night Spots

Got an appetite for a scene that churns well into the wee hours? Why not take it to the same place you take your, well, appetite?

Dotted across the L.A. night scape are open-late and 24-hour restaurants where so much after-hours activity goes on, food seems almost an afterthought. So, forget what your mother said about eating late causing nightmares and order up. Because even at 3 a.m., there’s no shortage of party-hungry scenesters waiting to take your table.

For the restaurant most indistinguishable from the club you just left, head for Larry Parker’s 24-Hour Diner in Beverly Hills. Your first clue that you’ve stumbled on some weird hybrid eatery is the thick, nattily dressed crowd backed up behind a doorman-manned velvet rope. During the heart of the weekend, a 45-minute wait for a table as late as 4 a.m. is hardly unheard of.

Once inside, your senses can be excited anew by mega-decibel hip-hop and rap music, a spinning disco ball and video-flashing monitors mixed in with a carnival of Americana kitsch. “I don’t know how this happened,” claims Larry Parker, the eponymous owner and host of this late-night soul asylum. “I just started playing loud music and now we’re a public party.”

Another restaurant that uses a velvet rope to slow the flow of the midnight munching multitudes is Denny’s. Of course, not every Denny’s is so configured. Just the one at Sunset and Vista--dubbed Rock ‘n’ Roll Denny’s.

“Too many people were crowding up the lobby, that’s why we instituted the rope,” explains ex-Los Angeles Police Officer Randy Glover, weekend gatekeeper and bouncer to the crush of spandex, hair extensions and bandannas that descend after the Sunset Strip metal houses close. “And a large percentage of them come here every night.”

Between 2:30 and 3:30 a.m., especially on weekends, a half-hour wait is typical, although the less-sought-after nonsmoking tables can be had quicker. Still, the faithful keep thronging here even though identical fare is available at hundreds of other Denny’s locations.

No restaurant is home to more middle-of-the-night madness than Damiano’s, a pizza and pasta joint on Fairfax. This favorite late-night haunt of rock ‘n’ rollers, clubhounds and other assorted trendies and denizens of the demimonde, jumps almost every night of the week.

“A lot of them sit here for hours and order nothing but a slice of pizza and a Coke,” gripes one overworked/undertipped waitress. Balancing her plates, she constantly blares “ Excuuse meee !” to clear the aisles of the throngs of ripped-jeans-attired, pierced and tattooed table-hoppers who greet friends, exchange party information and pretty much do everything but sit down and eat. “From 2:30 to 4:30,” she sighs, “it’s a madhouse.”

Across the street, Cantor’s Fairfax Restaurant, Delicatessen & Bakery has been drawing after-hours crowds since it opened its round-the-clock doors 63 years ago.

“This used to be practically the only place that was open 24 hours,” says Patricia Fuget, who’s spent 20 years hauling knishes, cold cuts and matzo balls on the Cantor’s night shift. Busiest nights here are Fridays and Saturdays, of course, and Tuesdays, when the crowds that come to hear live music in the Kibitz Room--the Cantor’s bar--spill into the restaurant after the show.

“Alot of celebrities come in, though not as many as I used to see,” Fuget says, counting off such heavy-hitters as Richard Dreyfuss and John Ritter, whom she recalls stepping up to Cantor’s hefty plates. “Of course, nowadays,” she adds, laughing, “they’re usually rock stars, and I don’t recognize them.”

Another fixture of the 24-hour scene is the Original Pantry Cafe, which boasts that it has never closed the doors or been without a customer since opening in downtown in 1924.

“We get thousands of kids that gather here every Friday and Saturday night,” says Night Manager Emil Kolisnyk, a Pantry employee for 19 years, somewhat hyperbolically. “They pack the place.”

During the late ‘70s-early ‘80s, Kolisnyk says, late-night crowds came back to this Roaring ‘20s relic for the Pantry’s famous hot cakes, steaks, pies and coffee. Over the years, the makeup of the line snaking around the block has reflected the change in downtown night life. Instead of black-clad punk rockers, it’s now the sharply dressed teen-agers and twentysomethings from the nearby Orbit Club, Shark Club and Mayan who keep the Pantry throbbing till well after 4 a.m.

A lot of people are decked out in resplendent dresses at the Yukon Mining Company. But even on nights when it’s filled to capacity, there’s nary a woman.

Starting about 1:30 a.m. and going till dawn, especially on weekends, the place fills with impeccable drag queens and macho men. Stop by when the party is peaking and you may even catch a glimpse of Diana Ross or Madonna. Well, sort of.

Outside the downtown-to-Bev Hills club zone, Jerry’s Famous Deli seems to have a near monopoly on the after-midnight action. While the Marina and Encino locations scoop up most of the westward-moving night owls, the most consistent pre-dawn activity is at the original location in Studio City--a red and white oasis of light on a darkened Ventura Boulevard.

You’ll even notice a hefty sprinkling of gray hairs here at Jerry’s--unusual during a time dominated by the carefree under-30 crowd. Of course, this is still the late-night magnet for Valley youth. The restaurant plays host to a massive mating ritual that keeps going till the sun comes up. Girls with frosted lipstick and large hoops dangling from their ears trade looks and phone numbers with shirtless dudes with tanned, pumped-up bods wearing gold chains and multicolored vests.

“Weekends between 2 a.m. and 6 a.m. at each restaurant, we will serve about 1,000 people--even more in Studio City,” estimates Guy Starkman, vice president of this chain of all-night nosh spots.

And people say Los Angeles isn’t a 24-hour town.