Musso is a wonderfully bizarre place. The wood-paneled interior of Hollywood’s oldest restaurant resembles a well-preserved Elks Lodge that hosts 300-person weddings, complete with dusty chandeliers and an out-of-use phone booth in the back. Its throwback American menu is filled with schmaltzy nostalgia, and the martini is more famous than anyone inside. Yes, even that person in the red leather booth who show-ran Maude. We can almost guarantee if you texted “Musso night soon?” to four friends right now, you’d get four responses saying “I’m in.” Still, even its most diehard fans will tell you, there’s a right way and a wrong way to do the Musso experience. No one comes to this 100-year-old restaurant to eat great food—or if they do, they shouldn’t. You come to flirt with handsome waiters in red tuxedo jackets, drink cocktails that come with a sidecar, and bask in the glory of a room with more movie history than a storage closet at The Egyptian. And of course, unless you plan on asking for table bread refills the whole night, you’ll be expected to order something from the nice man named Rudolfo who just answered your questions about the jellied consomme. The correct path forward is the $62, 12-ounce filet mignon, which is a good value in Hollywood, consistently tender, and always arrives on the pink side of medium rare. And if you need a second entree, the sanddabs drizzled in a sauce meunière is a worthy choice. From there, add one gooey onion soup au gratin per person and a side of Lyonnaise potatoes that looks like baked apple pie. You’ll be tempted to try one of the menu's retro curiosities, too. Do so at your own risk. The only “wow” of dishes like the dry flannel cake or marinated herring glopped in sour cream is that they haven't been sealed away in a Smithsonian exhibit. On its best nights, Musso’s dining room is about 40% tourists and 60% regulars who’ve been drinking the same glass of Scotch since they won an Emmy for casting in 1982. Occasionally, the cargo shorts crowd packs in and turns the front dining room into a Raddison Inn lobby, so avoid that scene by calling day-of for a reservation. That's when Musso & Frank Grill offers up tables in its private dining rooms, and you'll end up with a semi-exclusive dinner with all of the other Angelenos who texted “I’m in.”