Since trips to California always include places geared around kids eating, I decided to rent a car the day before leaving to drive myself to the airport, but more important, to eat a bit in Los Angeles. With plenty of time before the flight, I considered driving down to Manhattan Beach to one of the restaurants getting a Michelin buzz, but I couldn’t remember the name. It was a beautiful day after an unusual week of daily rain, so I wanted to be outside.

My mind then drifted to Beverly Hills, a place that seems exempt from the gross that has become Los Angeles. Like here, most of the places that get media attention are open only for dinner, but my mind did a quick search for places that I love that may still be open for lunch. Sadly, one of my favorites, Spago, has rejoined the dinner-only club. Then I thought about JG Rooftop, which overlooks L.A. from the Waldorf Astoria. A quick check of the website informed me that all traces of Jean-Georges Vongerichten (who was the original at the hotel) have been expunged, and replaced by yet more Asian Fusion.

And then I remembered a place that is not an old favorite because I’ve never been there, but it was definitely on the bucket list. I decided to drive to the “Pink Palace,” the Beverly Hills Hotel, and eat at the Polo Lounge. So much has been written about the place, with its reputation for being the site of “discoveries” of young ingenues that would later become screen stars,  and deals made over lunch. The Polo Lounge is a key spot in the trade that made Los Angeles what it is.

What I discovered first was how different it was from what I imagined. The pool is nowhere near the Polo Lounge. There is an outdoor space which amounts to more of an inner courtyard, but the Pool & Cabanas is a whole separate place. There is a third spot for dining, and it is a single counter in a tiny space called the Fountain Coffee Room. I doubt that there are even twenty barstools here.

Before settling on any place, I dropped into the restroom, where my first sight was a young woman getting herself set to visit the Polo Lounge. She was taking selfies of herself and talking to a friend. A 2026 version of what must have been a familiar sight for a hundred years. I hope she wasn’t disappointed upon seeing no one there. 

I might have been surrounded by today’s screen legends, but I wouldn’t even know it, so happily out of touch am I. These are hallowed walls in film industry history, and I did want to experience it in person. The walls here are in fact, exquisite. I don’t believe I have ever seen a place so well-tended, and I have been in some very famous places. There isn’t a scratch on anything, or a stain on any carpet. The place may have just been re-carpeted the week before, because that’s how the entire hotel appeared. The booths in the Polo Lounge were exquisitely upholstered, tables with pressed white tablecloths, and waiters of the career class. There was even a talented woman tickling the ivories. At lunch. 

I had barely taken notice of her until two old guys in the booth beside me summoned the Maitre’d and requested that he ask her to reduce her volume (it wasn’t offensive.) This was after a few other special requests. Were these two legends or just in their own minds? The Maitre’d treated him as though they were. That was the way I was treated by everyone here, the results of the training in a place like this.

I got some valuable information from what these two said. Not about “the business,” though that was the entirety of their conversation. That and ex-wives.

It was from them that I learned what to order here, though this info came after I had eaten lunch. I still ordered it anyway. I’m so glad I overheard them discuss the McCarthy Salad with the waiter. It is a signature item on the menu, and perhaps the most unusual thing I have ever ordered.

A burger is my usual go-to when I can’t find anything else on a menu, and I believe I remembered reading about the popularity of The Polo Lounge Burger. But my eyes landed on Fish & Chips because I love the idea of this British dish. It had to be exceptional here at The Beverly Hills Hotel because the hotel is part of the Dorchester Collection, a UK based hotel group noted for its excellence and exclusivity.

I wasn’t having a hard time finding something to eat on this menu, and I wasn’t having a hard time deciding. There were a few items that made it an easy choice. But I didn’t notice the McCarthy Salad until these two in the booth next to mine brought it to my attention with their conversation with the waiter. It turns out that a half McCarthy is also a choice. So I summoned the waiter back to my table and ordered half a McCarthy Salad.

The Fish & Chips were not the best I’ve had, but they were very good. The “Chips” were housecut fries arranged artfully on the plate, though there were only a handful in this edible Lincoln Logs-type stacking. And they were too dark for my taste. Otherwise, they were exactly what a houscut French fry is classically. These were not bistro fries but half-inch squares of uniform normal length, which are rarely seen these days. The fish came as two large pieces of battered cod with a lot of fantastic tartar sauce and a little ramekin of mushy peas. A bottle of malt vinegar was part of this plate. 

Malt vinegar is something I have never understood, but this is not an American dish. The mushy peas are another thing I can do without, but I did eat most of them this time. The tartar sauce is what was most memorable about this plate. It was fantastically good, chunky with bits of all sorts of tasty herbs and capers. I would have brought home a bottle of this.

My half McCarthy salad was quick to come. At first glance, it looked like a pretty Cobb Salad with its patchwork of ingredients. There is quite a bit of tableside service here, with steak tartare and the like. The McCarthy Salad is also tossed tableside, but I asked to do it myself. I wish I hadn’t, because I was unprepared for what lay beneath the Cobb Salad-like ingredients. I have never seen a salad this way.

Underneath the tidy sections of perfectly-cubed salad ingredients was a mixture of salad greens chopped so fine that it looked like herbs when it was tossed. It was, frankly, bizarre. I was captivated by this and most curious as to its origin. The Balsamic dressing was very good.

Unfortunately I was so mesmerized by the appearance of this salad when it was tossed that I completely forgot to capture the sight. There is no pic of it for this piece.

And I’m sure that beets are a winner for The Polo Club Lounge regulars, but beets take over wherever they are. Still, I liked them in the salad, and I liked the McCarthy Salad in general. I still prefer the Cobb, but this was so original I loved it.

And it gave me a chance to eat the ingredients of a bread basket that was beautiful. Looking at these baskets going to other tables I thought the tall cracker was Lavash but when mine arrived at my table I saw that these tall crisps were just that, large Cheddar cheese crisps.

There were two other items in the basket. One was a pretzel roll and the other was a few slices of focaccia. A tiny ramekin of soft butter accompanied this lovely basket of fresh-baked breads. I remember baskets like these, and I miss them.

This lunch for just me was, with tip, a hundred dollars. I loved this splurge. I could, (and do) spend that for far less excellence,  attention to detail, and the skill with execution to turn quality raw materials into delicious food. 

Experiences like this used to be mainstays of my dining with Tom, but are rare now. I left The Polo Lounge missing them. They are much harder to find these days.

I had barely taken notice of her until two old guys in the booth beside me summoned the Maitre’d and requested that he ask her to reduce the volume (it wasn’t offensive.) This was after a few other special requests. Were these two legends or just in their own minds? The Maitre’d treated him as though they were. That was the way I was treated by everyone here, the results of the training in a place like this.

I got some valuable information from what these two said. Not about “the business,” though that was the entirety of their conversation. That and ex-wives.

It was from them that I learned what to order here, though this info came after I had eaten lunch. I still ordered it anyway. I’m so glad I overheard them discuss the McCarthy Salad with the waiter. It is a signature item on the menu, and perhaps the most unusual thing I have ever ordered.

A burger is my usual go-to when I can’t find anything else on a menu, and I believe I remembered reading about the popularity of The Polo Lounge Burger. But my eyes landed on Fish & Chips because I love the idea of this British dish. It had to be exceptional here at The Beverly Hills Hotel because the hotel is part of the Dorchester Collection, a UK based hotel group noted for its excellence and exclusivity.

I wasn’t having a hard time finding something to eat on this menu, and I wasn’t having a hard time deciding. There were a few items that made it an easy choice. But I didn’t notice the MCCarthy Salad until these two in the booth next to mine brought it to my attention with their conversation with the waiter. It turns out that a half McCarthy is also a choice. So I summoned the waiter back to my table and ordered half a McCarthy Salad.

The Fish & Chips were not the best I’ve had, but they were very good. The “Chips” were housegut fries arranged artfully on the plate, though there were only a handful in this edible Lincoln Logs-type stacking. And they were too dark for my taste. Otherwise, they were exactly what a houscut French fry is classically. These were not bistro fries but half-inch squares of uniform normal length, which are rarely seen these days.

The fish came as two large pieces of battered cod with a lot of fantastic tartar sauce and a little ramekin of mashed peas. A bottle of malt vinegar was part of this plate. 

Malt vinegar is something I have never understood, and I have eaten it with the Fish & Chips, but this is not an American dish. The mushy peas are another thing I can do without, but I did eat most of them this time. The tartar sauce is what was most memorable about this plate. It was fantastically good, chunky with bits of all sorts of tasty herbs and capers. I would have brought home a bottle of this.

My half McCarthy salad was quick to come. At first glance, it looked like a pretty Cobb Salad with its patchwork of ingredients. There is quite a bit of tableside service here, with steak tartare and the like. The McCarthy Salad is also tossed tableside, but I asked to do it myself. I wish I hadn’t, because I was unprepared for what lay beneath the Cobb Salad-like ingredients. I have never seen a salad this way.

Underneath the tidy sections of perfectly-cubed salad ingredients was a mixture of salad greens chopped so fine that it looked like herbs when it was tossed. It was, frankly, bizarre. I was captivated by this and most curious as to its origin. The Balsamic dressing was very good.

Unfortunately I was so mesmerized by the appearance of this salad when it was tossed that I completely forgot to capture the sight. There is no pic of it for this piece.

And I’m sure that beets are a winner for The Polo Club Lounge regulars, but beets take over wherever they are. Still, I liked them in the salad, and I liked the McCarthy Salad in general. I still prefer the Cobb, but this was so original I loved it.

And it gave me a chance to eat the ingredients of a bread basket that was beautiful. Looking at these baskets going to other tables I thought the tall cracker was Lavash but when mine arrived at my table I saw that these tall crisps were just that, large Cheddar cheese crisps.

There were two other items in the basket. One was a pretzel roll and the other was a few slices of focaccia. A tiny ramekin of soft butter accompanied this lovely basket of fresh-baked breads. I remember baskets like these, and I miss them.

This lunch for just me was, with tip, a hundred dollars. I loved this splurge. I could, (and do) spend that for far less excellence,  attention to detail, and the skill with execution to turn quality raw materials into delicious food. 

Experiences like this used to be mainstays of my dining with Tom, but are rare now. I left The Polo Lounge missing them. They are much harder to find these days.