Too Hot To Handle

OH, NO. PLEASE, NOT THE BLACK VELVET ROPE, I groan as I pull into the driveway of the Sunset Room in Hollywood. This supper-club-cum-live-music-venue debuted in January, and before the first dozen trend-seekers had sipped a Cosmopolitan, major magazines had dubbed the new spot the hottest thing to hit town since, well, the last hot place.

Though only a handful of cars are in the parking lot at 8 p.m., the valet demands $5 up front, as if it were a Sunset Strip clip joint. It’s insulting, especially since the place is more than half empty on a Tuesday night. The cluster of young Hollywood types in the bar doesn’t begin to fill the vast space. When I overhear someone say, “It’s nice to put a face with a name,” I realize people are here for business more than pleasure.

Two people in our group haven’t arrived, so the hostess won’t seat us. She says she doesn’t want to put us at a table that may end up with empty seats. It sounds ludicrous given the number of open tables. “Why don’t you have a drink in the bar?” she suggests.

We retreat to the bar area, decorated with bronze Art Nouveau statues and spiky flower arrangements, where we sit in armchairs for 10 minutes before anyone appears to take our order. But before we can muster the bartender, the hostess is back, saying she can seat us now because our “missing party” just called to say they’d be there in a few minutes.

She gives us a great table, an oval booth that overlooks the entire dining room. Through the harsh glare of the window into the kitchen, a graying, ponytailed chef inspects the plates as they go out, showering some with herbs or garnish. It’s Claude Segal, the French chef who replaced Wolfgang Puck at Ma Maison so many years ago and who was chef at the late Pagani and at Drai’s before that. Now the man who once cooked at Maxim’s in Paris (when it was still very good) is behind the stoves at the Sunset Room.

You wouldn’t know it from the menu. It’s as pedestrian-sounding as they come, a compendium of Southern California bestsellers such as grilled ahi tuna and pepper steak, with a few fusion dishes thrown in. It’s all in the execution, though, isn’t it? This is the kind of food Segal should be able to turn out with one hand tied behind his back.

Speaking of execution, our waiter could have better disguised his disappointment when we opt for tap water instead of Pellegrino. It’s not good form and makes the diner feel like a mark. We pore over the wine list, looking for some bottle, any bottle, with a moderate markup that would also be fun to drink. Whoever is buying the wines is not putting much effort into it.

The first courses arrive. A Boston lettuce salad with diced fresh artichoke hearts would have benefited from a dressing made with a more flavorful oil, but it’s basically fine. Maine lobster is not only dull, but meager, too. It’s a few tiny chunks of chewy crustacean with pleated Chinese dumplings filled with lobster mousse. You’re better off with the baby arugula salad with roasted garlic. The dressing is bland, but the greens are fresh. The duo of potato is pretty dreadful. It’s two baked potato halves, one filled with a mixture of potato and caviar, the other with potato and smoked salmon. They taste as if they’ve been sitting around the kitchen for a long time. Peking duck salad is even worse: tired, greasy shreds of duck meat on top of a huge pile of greens. Noting a funky aroma in the portabello mushroom risotto, a French friend asks what it is. The server doesn’t know and checks with the kitchen, returning to inform my friend proudly, “C’est l’huile de truffes blanches”--white truffle oil, a particularly odoriferous version.

Fortunately, main courses are better. The nicely charred T-bone is decent. Short ribs servedwith natural juices are braised to a tender, gelatinous texture. Triangles of grilled ahi tuna are dry. Though the dish is perked up with fresh ginger, there is zero fish flavor. The thin salmon steak, unfortunately, doesn’t taste particularly fresh.

On another visit, I try the roasted crown of New Zealand rack of lamb, which underlines the best strategy for eating here: Choose the more straightforward-sounding dishes. The chops are rosy and tender, and they come with perfectly cooked haricots verts and the lamb’s natural juices. Though the filet mignon is a bit mushy, the sauce hints at what Segal can do when he puts his mind to it. It’s beautifully modulated, with a sharp bite of pepper that brings out the taste of the beef. Start off with the sparkling fresh oysters on the half shell, and you’ll do fine.

For the most part, however, Segal seems to be sleeping through this menu. How can someone who cooked at Maxim’s send out a dessert like the white peach risotto, which tastes like a mouthful of white glue? Or a classic apple tart with pastry that’s still raw in the center?

I’m quite aware that food is incidental in places like this. If you order carefully (perhaps the carrot and ginger soup swirled with creme fra’che) and don’t expect too much, you can get an acceptable meal. It’s the cynicism of the owners that’s troubling. Like so many trendy spots, the goal here seems to be to rake in as much money as possible while the place is still hot. And even when it’s not. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, when it’s packed, maybe you won’t notice how much this looks like a stage set, or the deadening lighting. Even the blues band that plays live some nights can’t rev the place up enough to feel like a destination on a weekday night.

I think of a young couple seated next to me one night who came dressed to kill--she in Elvira hair, black patent leather boots, tattoos snaking round her arm. For all the sizzle the Sunset Room had that night, they could have been in the ‘burbs.

The Hollywood crowd may come to celebrate its membership in a certain circle, but with this kind of insincere service, lackadaisical cooking and pretentiousness, I really wonder whether anybody else will be back. There are too many other places with better attitudes.

The Sunset Room

1430 N. Cahuenga Blvd.,

Hollywood,

(323) 463-0004

CUISINE: French-California

RATING: Satisfactory

*

AMBIENCE: Hyper-trendy supper club with large bar and back patio with fireplace. SERVICE: Acceptable to indifferent. BEST DISHES: Oysters on the half shell, organic carrot and ginger soup, baby arugula salad, roasted rack of lamb au jus, pan-fried filet mignon pepper steak, creme brulee. Appetizers, $9 to $12. Main dishes, $15 to $32. Corkage, $15 to $25. WINE PICKS: 1998 Honig Sauvignon Blanc, California; 1994 Bodegas Mauro Vendimis Reserva, Spain. FACTS: Dinner Tuesday through Saturday. Valet parking.

*

Rating is based on food, service and ambience, with price taken into account in relation to quality. ****: Outstanding on every level. ***: Excellent. **: Very good. *: Good. No star: Poor to satisfactory.