STANDOUT PRAWN TOAST IS THE STAR AT 88 CLUB

WHY DOESN'T THE REST OF THE MENU SHINE AS BRIGHTLY?

- BILL ADDISON RESTAURANT CRITIC

TWO THINGS come to mind whenever I'm savoring the rectangular prawn toasts, fried to coppery crispness, at 88 Club in Beverly Hills: how brilliantly chef Mei Lin reconfigured the abiding Cantonese snack, and how its excellence amplifies what's not as fully realized elsewhere on the menu. Lin makes the toasts her own by using crustless pain de mie to form squared borders; the fine crumb seizes into thin, pleasingly sand-textured shells. Black and white sesame seeds vary the crunch. The prawn filling, rather than the usual slick pink paste, remains translucent with distinct pieces. It registers as squiggly on the tongue, almost sentient.

If cut in half, ginger and garlic dart out in front among many mingled scents. But the driving flavors of two gelled condiments, one on each end, take over after the first bite. Hot mustard aioli is piped in a teardrop shape to resemble a white Hershey's Kiss. Sweet-and-sour sauce, thickened to jam, wobbles like a small egg yolk. The pair of blobs are meant to be smeared across the surface into one zinging varnish.

Crunchy, creamy, hot, cool, slightly sugary, mighty savory: Each prawn toast is a complete package, a finger-food art object to be admired for a moment, particularly given that three pieces cost $38 (no $90 caviar supplement necessary), before they quickly disappear.

PRAWN toast and roasted chicken with ginger scallion oil, top; black bean Manila clams in lemongrass broth, above; and wontons in chicken stock, below, at 88 Club in Beverly Hills.