The No. 19 at Norm Langer’s Westlake landmark should be named the official sandwich of Los Angeles. The pastrami — brined, peppered, smoked, steamed and shaved by hand into rosy kerchiefs — rises from between two slices of double-baked rye bread. A cushion of coleslaw, Swiss cheese and Russian dressing hovers over top like an upper bunk. Your senses are keener in the face of such perfection. Settle into your chestnut-brown, tufted booth seat among the happy cadences of silverware against plates and myriad languages ringing through the dining room. Honestly, though? Slices of hot pastrami, fanned across a plate with vegetable garnishes and perhaps nothing more than a smear of mustard, show how little adornment the brisket really requires.