What You See is What You Eat.

Luna Park was an amusement park near downtown, around the turn of the 20th century. It was a populator of the great log rides, and, if it could have, probably also would have been inventor of the genius idea of taking one’s picture to record one’s reaction as she is faced with the impending 7 story drop, not to mention the water.

Luna Park the Restaurant on Miracle Mile is somewhat different, and somewhat the same, as Luna Park the Amusement Park. It describes itself as “kitchy, flea-market chic.” I don’t know who wrote that, but that needs to change. First, because it sounds awful. Second, because it’s not really true. I don’t know what kind of flea markets Luna Park frequents, but my flea markets are not chic-y. I bought a skateboard at a flea market once, $3. It wasn’t chic-y, it was dirty and the wheels had so much crusted dirt that it didn’t roll. That is a flea market. That is not a restaurant. That is not an amusement park neither.

What Luna Park does have, however, is a deer head. This sits above the bar. Elsewhere on the walls are interesting (in the good way) art drawings and/or caricuatures of people that are very reminiscent of the characters from the Triplets of Belleville. These float above lovely curtained booths; beyond the animal heads, it is rather pretty inside. Rather than kitchy, rather than flea-market, it is more apporpriately a mashup between the beginning of Stinkers’ newfound hipster irony and a French tavern.

As you can see from the above photo, it also is very dark; you have to read the menu by candlelight. This is more French and less hipster. (A dark hipster restaurant would just put flashlights on your table, without the batteries.)

Tuesdays Luna Park has “blue plate specials” where one or two of the entrees are about $12, plus $5 sangria. From what I understand, they are even served in blue plates! I guess this is supposed to be more more hipster cute and less food-stamp-stigmatizing. Blue plate specials for our night were meatloaf and a chowder, I think. We opted for the $5 sangria, but passed on the entree specials.

Entrees are in the $12-20 range — but I see you creeping, $19.50 honey glazed pork chop. I just finished an exceptionally long meeting – public interest lawyers, despite their collective zeal to do Great Things, meet just as badly as their law firm counterparts – and so felt exceptionally steak-y. The flat iron steak topped with salsa verde and served with french fries ($16.50) was in order, literally. My best friend had a harder time, a much harder time, first thinking she wanted a side salad and brussel sprouts, then deciding that no, that was lame (yes, it was), then maybe a salad, and at the last minute, the waiter-recommended bacon braised chicken ($15.95).