RESTAURANT REVIEW : Crab Cakes and a Catchy Conga Beat

“Wow,” says my friend Amy as she takes her seat at the Moonlight Tango Cafe. “I feel like I’m in a movie.” She pauses, then corrects herself. “Or in a movie about movies.”

Indeed, Moonlight Tango is decorated to resemble and pay homage to the big, lavish Hollywood version of a swing-era nightclub; it’s a work of nostalgia, not for the ‘30s and ‘40s themselves, but for the way they were glorified on celluloid in all those wonderful, upbeat Busby Berkeley and Frank Capra movies.

As if an attraction on the Universal Studio Tour spontaneously generated itself in Sherman Oaks, Moonlight Tango is a nostalgic theme park of a nightclub. Suddenly, we too can live as if we’re in the movies. We follow the actors to the nightclub and, all of a sudden, instead of tux-clad gentlemen and ladies in evening dresses listening to the orchestra in an elegant club, it’s us --the office workers, merchants, entertainment industry employees and restaurant reviewers from the San Fernando Valley--in the role of the audience.

Certainly, Moonlight Tango could hardly provide more visual cues to fantasy. Even early, about 6 p.m., when the only people there are the waiters putting the finishing touches on the tables, the room seems crowded, with its mirrored walls, blow-ups of old photographs, patterned tin ceiling, etched glass, panoramic full bar, plants, endless rows of tables and chairs, and shiny all-white orchestra instruments.

And then, it turns out that just about everybody on the staff can sing--and does--which makes us really feel we’re in a musical comedy. Add 100 to 200 people, food and the Gershwins’ lively music, and every sense is stimulated and saturated.

Moonlight Tango used to have a dance floor too, but since the restaurant opened 6 months ago, the Los Angeles Fire Department closed it for overcrowding. But not to worry. No dance floor doesn’t mean no fun. As the hostess says, “There’s still a conga line.”

When our own waiter comes to take our orders, he heartily approves of our choices. In fact, all the waiters here are cheerful, enthusiastic and generally terrific. They are all actors, and as we shall see, are happy to demonstrate their talent. Our waiter truly looks like a famous actor, but we can’t decide who exactly--a young Paul Newman? When we ask him, he ducks his head, blushes and finally confesses: “A lot of people say I look like a fat James Dean.”

The music starts at 8 p.m. The bass, the drummer and the pianist warm up until a dapper chap in a white tuxedo comes out and sings, “Our Love Is Here to Stay.” The restaurant is very crowded now. There’s a birthday party in front of us and an office party behind us.

A jungle beat starts; the singer grabs maracas and invites us all to join the conga line. The singer and two other employees snake through the long rows of tables. They don’t pick up any volunteers. It’s too early in the night, and people haven’t relaxed enough. This first conga line is just to plant the idea in people’s heads.

Conversation is impossible, but who needs it? It’s all we can do to focus on our meals, which are pretty good. It’s American food with regional flairs--elements of Cajun, Mexican, California cuisines abound. We find the crab cakes are full of crab, their salsa-like “Apache” sauce tasty and fiery. The whipped avocado and caviar dip is a bit bland, however, and the rounds of garlic toast accompanying it are drippy with grease.

There’s a good fresh green salad and a respectable large Greek salad. The waiter kindly brings us a taste of the broth from the gumbo to see if we’d be interested in ordering a bowl; it tastes spicy and fishy in a good way, but somehow our enthusiasm is not engaged.

I like my chicken breast, which is stuffed with goat cheese, and Amy likes her spit-fired steak. The skillet potatoes are disappointly soggy, but the vegetables are buttery. The portions are generous, and we take most of our dinners home with us.

Suddenly, in the middle of all this food, we’re aware that a row of men are singing--the waiters! A whole chorus line of them. Our own waiter, James Dean with more weight, is there singing and miming, “Over There.”

After a while, we’re done with dinner. We’ve had our coffee; we’re about ready to leave. But what can we do? Our waiter’s still singing. Should we sidle up to him, tug shyly on his tie, say, “Uh, excuse me, uh, we’d like our bill?”

We eventually do get our bill, and just in the nick of time too. As we’re rising from our seats, those congas start again, with that wild thumping beat. The singer grabs his maracas. We burst through the front door and run for the car. It feels like a narrow escape.

Recommended dishes: crab cakes, $6.85; Greek salad, $4.75; chicken with goat cheese, $14.50; spit-roasted beef tenderloin, $19.95.

The Moonlight Tango Cafe, 13730 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks, (818) 788-2000. Open daily from 11:30 a.m.; the kitchen closes at 11:30 p.m. Sunday through Thursday, at 12:30 a.m. Friday and Saturday. Full bar. Valet Parking. All major credit cards accepted.