The advantages of my daughter attending Immaculate Heart High School in Los Feliz are legion: a great education, a spirited and engaged community, a truly diverse student body that reflects the real L.A., and so much more. The disadvantage is the driving. I love that she has friends all over L.A. — as I did when I went there in the ’70s — but when I have to drive her from Pasadena to her friend’s house at Sunset and Doheny at 5 p.m. on a Friday … well, at least it’s quality time with her.

Anyway, when making that recent Friday night drive from hell, I saw that the traffic heading back east was much worse than what I’d just been through, and I was hungry, so I decided to try my luck for a counter spot at Pizzeria Mozza. But then, as I was driving east on Melrose, I passed Angeli Caffé, and a wave of both nostalgia and worry swept over me. I used to eat there all the time back in the day. I loved that place. I haven’t been back in years. And it was empty at 6:15 on a Friday night. So I took my 30th anniversary copy of the Weekly and got a table.

I had a wonderful meal, every bit as good as it was — actually, better — back when Angeli was the Mozza of the moment. The main room slowly filled with interesting, normal people, the waiters were kind and thoughtful, the pizza bread was still as addictive as meth, my salad was carefully composed of farmers’-market ingredients, my penne with rapini and sausage was delicious, and my Sangiovese hit the spot. The stress of the drive was gone, and I made a Recession Resolution: Go back to L.A.’s modern classics as often as possible. They need us in these tough times. They no longer have the buzz, but they have the chops. (I, for one, think there wouldn’t even be a Mozza if Evan Kleiman hadn’t broken ground with Angeli back when Melrose was news.) They’re often reasonably priced. You don’t have to battle with preening three-day-stubble boys for a table. And they remind you of why, if you make the effort, this city has so much to offer.