To order the martini is to cast a spell. Drink one in even the most fluorescently lit, uncharming hovel and suddenly, you transform into the you from one of those other innumerable realities quantum physicists are always harping on about. You are the you with effortless old Hollywood charm, the you of your Mad Men-fueled fantasies, the you that drinks martinis! Drink one at Sunset Tower, one of Los Angeles’ most enduring institutions, and suddenly that other you doesn’t feel quite so fictional.

“One of my favorite things is watching people introduce someone to Sunset Tower for the first time,” says the hotel’s owner, Jeff Klein. “There are members and regulars who have been bringing friends, clients, spouses, children, and even grandchildren here for years. The ritual is always the same: ‘Let’s start with a martini.’ It’s become a kind of Los Angeles inheritance.”

For decades, Angelenos have celebrated promotions, negotiated deals, fallen in love, recovered from heartbreak, and marked life’s milestones with a chilled glass balanced between their fingers. “The martini has been present for all of it,” Klein says. “It’s not just a drink—it’s a symbol of the room.”

While L.A. cocktail trends have cycled through espresso martinis, clarified milk punches, smoke-filled cloches, and whatever other behind-the-bar wizardry happens to be in fashion, the Sunset Tower martini remains stubbornly, beautifully unchanged. That, to me, is why it has become the symbol of Los Angeles. 

“The martini should be extremely cold, properly balanced, and served without fuss,” Klein says. “We may refine ingredients, glassware, or technique over time, but we’re not interested in reinventing something that is already perfect.”

Like the martini, the menu here feels blissfully unconcerned with trends. It exists in a sort of parallel universe where nobody has ever uttered the phrase “elevated comfort food,” and the chef’s primary responsibility is not innovation but preservation. The same philosophy that guides the bar seems to guide the kitchen: if something works, leave it alone. 

This brings me to the food portion of our lesson: the pigs in a blanket are non-negotiable. Order them with your martini before you’ve even glanced at the rest of the menu. Tiny, golden, unapologetically retro and served alongside a sharp mustard dipping sauce, they function less as an appetizer than an announcement that you’ve arrived.

From there, lean into the classics. The more likely a dish is to have appeared at a Hollywood hostess’s luncheon circa 1958, the more you should order it: Shrimp cocktail, deviled eggs à la russe, smoked salmon with toast points, and the iceberg wedge are all safe bets.

These are the sorts of dishes that have survived long enough to become unfashionable and then fashionable again and more importantly, they’re exactly the sort of food that belongs alongside a martini. Bracing, clean, confident flavors that know precisely what they are. The restaurant understands a truth that Los Angeles occasionally forgets: confidence in execution is  often more compelling than novelty. Which is perhaps why the pièce de résistance remains the Tower Bar Burger.

“A martini and a burger is one of the great combinations in American dining,” says Klein.  It’s elegant and completely unpretentious at the same time.”

Best when ordered medium rare, this thick and wonderfully messy burger comes with a squishy potato bun and little more than arugula, caramelized onions, and your choice of cheddar, American, or Gruyere cheese (go with American). With a martini beside it, the duo makes you happy that some things never change. 

So what are we really seeking when we order a martini at Sunset Tower?

“A moment of glamour. A moment of escape,” Klein says. “The martini is one of the few drinks that still feels ceremonial. When someone orders a martini at Sunset Tower, they’re participating in a tradition that stretches back generations. They’re not just ordering a cocktail—they’re buying into a certain fantasy of Los Angeles.”

Normally, I’d be suspicious of anything described as a fantasy of Los Angeles, but sitting beneath the glow of the Tower Bar, martini in hand and burger on the table, while waiters in white tuxedos zip around a room brimming with live jazz, it’s hard not to become a believer.

Which brings us back to the responsibility that comes with introducing someone to a restaurant you love: Show them the room. Order the pigs in a blanket. Get the burger. Stay longer than you intended. But above all else, start with the martini.