Taiwanese Town in LA

Taiwanese? Young? Hip? Pocket full of cash? LA has the place for you:

Just before 11 on a Friday night, the Dream's parking lot is half-empty. Yet a few moments later, as if triggered by some hidden signal, baby Mercedeses and Lexuses, BMWs and tricked-out Hondas stream in, disgorging men with spiky hair and women in jeans, mid-calf boots and revealing tops. In a matter of 15 minutes, the lot is nearly full.

Inside, a bartender in a black jacket embroidered with dragons pours a drink into a funnel-shaped glass and lights it on fire. As his friends clap and chant in a mixture of English and Mandarin — "Suck! Suck! Kuai! Kuai! [Fast! Fast!]" — a man with a shaved head downs the flaming concoction through a straw and backs away triumphantly.

Some of the waitresses wear brightly colored cheongsams that barely cover their rear ends. Knots of twentysomethings gather around low-lying tables, where bottles of Grey Goose ($160 each) and Johnnie Walker ($150 for Black Label) are standard orders. "Are you ready to dance?" the DJ cries out in English.

Until a year and a half or so ago, this area along the 60 Freeway — Rowland Heights, Hacienda Heights, Industry — was known primarily as a bedroom community for immigrants from Taiwan and Hong Kong, and as a second Chinese food capital behind much-celebrated Monterey Park and San Gabriel. The residents spent their off-hours helping the kids with homework, not imbibing at watering holes. But all that is beginning to change.

For the first time, the Los Angeles area has a concentration of stylish clubs and pubs where Mandarin is the principal language. Though it's just in its infancy, it is drawing a good local crowd as well as out-of-town celebrities — namely, Taiwanese actors and pop singers. But that doesn't mean the scene is completely closed to non-Asian barhoppers: They're more likely than not to find new friends here.

[Taiwan]