Takami's visual feast

Piled into the car, my dining stalwarts and I creep along deserted Wilshire Boulevard on the lookout for Takami Sushi & Robata Restaurant, the new multimillion-dollar restaurant and lounge at the penthouse level of 811 Wilshire. When we spot the address, it's a nondescript office tower. Where's the entrance to Takami? And, more important, where do you park? On a second pass, we see a small sign with an arrow pointing down an alley, and tucked to one side, a telltale umbrella. Are they playing hard to get, or what?

We trudge through the lobby to the elevator and ride up, eyes averted from the bleary light and mirrors, to the 21st floor. The doors open onto a dimly lit bar with an extraordinary piece of gnarled wood as a coffee table and four wheels of Parmesan cheese as stools. No, on closer inspection, make that turned pieces of blond wood.

I look up and see the moon through the pillars and realize the extraordinary scope of this place, with its wraparound verandas running the length of the building. Now that's a view.

In the bar section of the open-air veranda, it's all low, white sofas and cubes. Martini glasses are lined up in formation. Every other reveler, it seems, is smoking -- seriously and with intent. Looking down the veranda, I see a flash of leg, a kiss, a nudge. Somebody snaps his fingers to summon a waiter. The crowd appears to be a mix of downtown hipsters scoping the scene, tourists sent over by one of the local hotels, and people who work in the neighborhood sharing an after-hours drink.

Now that Windows, the steakhouse on the 32nd floor of the former Transamerica building, has closed, Takami stakes its claim as the new glam spot to take out-of-towners eager for a glimpse of the glittering sprawl. The venue also includes Elevate Lounge, which takes up the opposite side of the building; with it's own panoramic view, it boasts a dance floor where night owls can gyrate under pulsing blue lights, and perhaps recharge with a few bits of sushi and a couple of robata sticks.

Our sweet, nervous server wants to explain right away that there are three kitchens: the normal one, the sushi kitchen and the robata kitchen. I can see the latter two from where we're sitting on the veranda. Both have a handful of stools in front. The sushi kitchen, though, is in the weeds.