The sensual gourmet

Out of respect for the governor’s request for a safe and sane Fourth of July, I went outside and stepped on some bubble wrap — snap, crackle, pop — and called it a day. But for fireworks in the days preceding the holiday, I burned the candle at both ends: hard work by day and dissipation by night.

The day’s work gave me the wherewithal to indulge myself at a most provocative place at night — The Show at Papa Joe’s. I opted for a little deviltry at The Show because I had heard that I would get more for my money here than at any other place in town.

Exciting, sensual and a bit naughty, it lived up to its billing and — surprise — the dining part of the experience was no disappointment.

On my first visit, waiting for the happy hour to start at 4 p.m., I sat on a bench outside the entrance. An attractive young woman was standing nearby, neatly coiffed and dressed in casually conservative light tan colors. The jacket was nipped at the waist to emphasize her shape; the cream-colored blouse was buttoned-up to a piece of lace around her neck. Her handbag had long straps — there was no white-knuckle clutching. She must have paid a lot for her shoes.

The woman’s dress and demeanor would open corporate doors; I thought I had her pegged as a marketing whiz at a major firm. But as she entered the door, she smiled at me with a kind of flirty femininity. Was this a model’s behavior?

Sort of. After a couple of drinks at a long bar in the main lounge, I headed for the dining room, but stopped for a sec to look into one of the adjacent private rooms. The young lady was a model: She was on stage, dressed in a bikini and shoes and accessorized by a pole.

The Show is a fascinating layout — “Cotton Club or speakeasy style,” as described by partner, Melodee Von. This means a series of meandering rooms like they had during the dry days of Prohibition — secret rooms where you could sneak a drink or a pair of dice. But these days at The Show, there is nothing to warrant removal by police raid.

In all, there are six rooms: The bar and main lounge to enjoy live jazz and weekend special events such as belly-dancing exhibitions and soon, burlesque reviews. Each night, and during afternoon happy hours and at lunch on Thursday and Friday, four private rooms open to ogle bikini-clad table and pole dancers.

House rules: A fistful of dollars has to be doled out to the hand of the dancer, not tucked in her waistband. The entertainment venues are booked by partner Joe Nezdoba, former impresario at the famous Crackers Club near Disneyland. “There’s no lap dancing. It’s a non-contact sport,” says Nezdoba.

I would go into more detail, but I go along with author Gay Talese, who wrote in “Thy Neighbor’s Wife,” “Sex is no crime. Describing it is.”

Sequestered from the scenes — looking for the god of industrial behavior, Salt Peter — I escaped to a circular dining room with nattily knotted napkins, fine linens, polished glass and a fireplace.

In the best tradition of the Chicago speakeasy, it’s who you know and not your dough that counts. In hushed tones, with your mouth partially covered by your menu, ask waiter Dan Fields for the specials. He’ll tell you about two items not printed on the menu — but only if asked. I’ve had both: a prime rib special dinner for $7.99 and a New York steak and shrimp deal for $8.99. In other restaurants, you could pay two to three times as much for such a dinner and not have it taste any better.

A side dish that is not on the menu but must be requested is a special cauliflower preparation. Although next of kin to cabbage, cauliflower bunches in Chef Niko Pimentel’s hands are no poor relations. After water-boiling selected compact clusters, he batters with a mixture of buttermilk, garlic powder, onion flakes and flour — tosses them  in panko breadcrumbs and deep fries.

Chef Pimentel retains a large following from his days at Frank & Dean’s and Baby Joe’s, the previous occupants of The Show’s spot. The location has always had its moments. Before Baby Joe’s, it was occupied by Alexander’s Brass Rib, Armen DeVignes Chalon and the Chef’s Inn.

Back when, I remember in speaking the words Armen DeVignes Chalon — its harmonious arrangement, pleasing sound and rhythms — how easy it was to get a date.

Nezdoba said his next date is to add TV screens above the bar to give special events a “sports bar” kind of feeling. Not inspired by the Dodgers or Angels? Remember, in an Olympic year, you can always adjourn to another room and watch performers travel between poles (but not those you would see on the slopes).