OUTSIDE IN : These Two Beautiful Restaurants Prove That Dining Alfresco Can Be a Picnic

It may be that the weather here is just too nice.

In the city where I grew up, a place where eating outdoors is impossible for eight months of the year and foolish in the other four, every restaurant with a square foot of sidewalk advertises its alfresco eating opportunities. Patrons fight for the privilege of occupying sooty seats while scrawny trees struggle through the cement, cats glare balefully from the surrounding fire escapes and attack pigeons swoop down every time a crumb is dropped.

Los Angeles is another story. The city that invented the patio party, turned barbecue into a verb and approved jeans as proper dinner attire eats in when it eats out. What is generally labeled “the garden” in an L.A. restaurant usually sports a cover of some sort. Restaurants that open with glorious outdoor eating areas inevitably enclose them. (Michael’s, Spago, Camelions, Citrus and Campanile all followed this pattern.) Finding somewhere nice to be served under the open sky can be trying. On fine days when the roof is rolled back, Michael’s does have a gorgeous garden--provided that you’re rich enough to pay for it. Four Oaks is lovely, too--and equally expensive. Ditto Bistro Garden. Geoffrey’s has a great view of the sea, but once again you pay the price. There’s a pretty garden at Il Cielo, but the last two times I was there it was occupied by a private party. Most of the other outdoor eating spaces offer an enchanting view of a busy street (the Ivy), another busy street (Chin Chin) or an even busier street (City).

But there are a couple of swell solutions to the outdoor eating problem. One is The Raymond, an improbably beautiful Pasadena cottage with three trellised patios so bucolic that a visiting bluebird landed on a branch above my shoulder the last time I ate lunch there. Even though The Raymond is perched beside an enormous power substation just seconds from the Pasadena Freeway, it is another world.

This caretaker’s cottage is all that’s left of the turn-of-the-century Raymond Hotel, and the owners don’t take their historic responsibility lightly. The handcrafted wood in the old bungalow is polished to a fine sheen, the old gardens are beautifully maintained, and at night the lights are turned low and classical musicians brought in to provide a little extra atmosphere.

As a rule, such charm comes at the expense of the food. The Raymond is an exception. The food is refreshingly homespun, the sort of stuff restaurants used to serve before the gourmet revolution made every salad sprout radicchio, and every cook longed to be a chef. This is food that tastes, above all, of itself.

When the soup is cream of red pepper, it’s pretty much made of red peppers, stock and cream. Salads may be nothing more than romaine lettuce and the olives merely the canned black variety, but the lettuce is crisp and dry, the vinaigrette plain but good.

At lunch the menu tends to big salads and well-balanced meals such as pasta topped with generous chunks of chicken or medallions of pork, the tender white meat set off by bright green snow peas and whole carrots cooked in butter. The best value on the lunch menu is the generous sirloin-tip sandwich. Served on rye toast, it is topped with grilled onions and melted blue cheese. On the side are pieces of ripe melon. It comes with either soup or salad, and for $11, it makes a real meal.

At night the food becomes fancier. The entrees are expensive, but at $33 to $40 per person for a four-course meal, this is a wonderful place for a celebration.

The menus change weekly, but appetizers tend to be things like sauteed mushrooms topped with Parmesan cheese, escargots or good, big shrimp in herbed mayonnaise. There’s usually a version of Belgian endive salad, each pale, silky leaf bearing a bit of dressing, cheese and pine nuts.

There are generally three fish dishes to choose from, a veal dish, some variation on the breast-of-chicken theme (stuffed with Brie, topped with avocado and cheese) and usually rack of lamb. The latter is marinated in garlic, olive oil and lots of rosemary, then grilled.

Somebody in this kitchen loves to bake. At the end of each meal, a waiter appears with a big tray of seductive desserts. If it’s late, he’ll also leave a bell for you to ring when you’re ready for the check.

Choosing among the desserts is a problem. My favorites are an old-fashioned cheesecake and a raspberry tart with a crust of crumbled chocolate cookies and a topping of unsweetened whipped cream. Have a cup of coffee, lean back, look at the stars--and imagine that you’re out in the country.

There are no rural illusions at Orso, and that is part of its charm. This is an urban patio, and if you look up over the flowers and the pretty mustard-colored wall, you find yourself staring into the high-rise windows of Cedars-Sinai. This glimpse of the city just outside the garden gates makes you grateful to be in such a sunny setting.

The Raymond may be pleasantly old-fashioned, but everything’s up to date at Orso, from the reservation book filled with famous names to the hip, languid waiters and the very trendy food. There is an olive-oil-and-vinegar mixture on the table instead of butter, (you might actually want to splash some on the slightly boring mixed-green salad), a wide range of designer pizzas (the lumache has snails, spinach, imported black olives, garlic and Parmesan cheese), and the grill works overtime.

Orso has pretensions to authenticity--one side of the menu is written in Italian--but my Venetian friends were astonished. They shook their heads over the sheer weight of ingredients that were showered onto the pasta. “I can’t find the tagliatelle ,” cried one as his fork poked a path through a pile of arugula, chunks of tomato, lumps of hard ricotta and garlic in an attempt to unearth the few strands of pasta underneath. He also couldn’t believe the burden that the grilled chicken had to bear--vegetables, tomatoes, even pesto sauce--and he looked at that snail pizza with positive distaste. “Real California food,” he finally decided.

I have my own reservations about the cuisine here, but some of the food is very good. The soups are almost always wonderful; a recent bowlful combined the sweetness of sausages, the smooth blandness of white beans and the bitter bite of escarole in a richly satisfying broth. Grilled vegetables topped with goat cheese and balsamic vinegar are a big, beautiful and delicious appetizer. One night there was a good seafood entree with mussels, clams, tomatoes and roasted garlic. And I found a fat veal chop stuffed with roasted onions, pancetta and rosemary so generous that it was delicious not only the night I ate it but also the following day.

Vegetables are listed separately here, and one of the nicest ways to make a meal is simply to order some rapini with crushed red peppers or broccoli with olive oil and lemon, with a side order of potatoes roasted with garlic. Begin with a bowl of soup and end with a plate of cheese or biscotti with vin santo , and you’ve enjoyed the almost perfect urban picnic--in the completely perfect urban garden.

It really does make you grateful for the weather.

The Raymond Restaurant, 1250 S. Fair Oaks Ave., Pasadena; (818) 441-3136. Open for lunch Tuesday through Friday, for dinner Tuesday through Sunday and for Sunday brunch. Full bar. Parking in lot. All major credit cards accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $58-$80.

Orso, 8706 W. 3rd St., Los Angeles; (310) 274-7144. Open daily for lunch and dinner. Full bar. Valet parking. Visa and MasterCard accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $36-$72.