The Scene
Built with a creative combination of American gothic and Martha Stewart, the Ivy invites guests to lunch and dine in the shabby chic of a deteriorating garden home. Out on the Ivy's patio, white tables topped with potted plants and candles sit near pillow-lined benches, bordered by a peeling white picket fence. Inside, the vine-encompassed cottage houses more tables, surrounded by smatterings of Americana debris: Flags, paintings and antiques.

Fresh grilled fish and soft-shell crab are just some of the Ivy's gourmet specialties being enjoyed by the Hollywood powerbrokers and genteel Robertson Boulevard window-shoppers. While power moves are plotted, Beverly Hills gossip is spread over potent cocktails from the service bar and steaming plates of lobster pasta or BBQ vegetable salads loaded with asparagus, zucchini, scallions and chicken or shrimp. Expensive and quiet, Ivy's slow-growth garden offers a pricey, rustic respite from the city's fast pace.

Spotted Here
Who's the guy hovering behind that tree across the street? Probably a top-paid photog for one of the tabloids. It's a rare day that The Ivy doesn't have a papparazzo lingering in within 500 yards of its pretty fence. That's because The Ivy remains the lunch-and-be-snapshoted spot in town, which is no wonder; it's on the same Robertson block as some of the trendiest shops frequented by young starlets. Besides from those hungry young starlets, though, who else has dined at The Ivy? Oh, just your basic, everyday luminaries like Tom Cruise, Madonna and Brad Pitt.

Can I Get In?
Very likely, but don't plan on snagging one of the cherry tables along the picket fence. More often unknowns are seated inside -- way inside. -- Jesse Torres