This room outdresses the diners
THE way restaurants appear and disappear in Beverly Hills, it might as well be the Bermuda Triangle. Everybody thought Wolfgang Puck was crazy when he announced, five years ago, that he was moving from the much livelier and funky scene on the Sunset Strip to staid Canon Drive. But guess what? He reinvented Spago as a more serious restaurant, and it’s still thriving.
Now Avenue has come sailing into the same waters, opening in a corner spot just up the street where Bice, and, most recently, Mistral disappeared. This latest effort from the trend pushers behind El Dorado, Drake’s and Blueberry was designed by Dodd Mitchell, who has so many projects going he must not have time to sleep. He has given Avenue the dark, sleek and slightly dangerous look of a sophisticated boite.
By 8 or 9 at night, except for the lights that blaze nearby at Spago and Mastro’s Steakhouse, it looks as if the whole town has already gone to bed. Meanwhile, cars pull up in front of Avenue’s darkened facade. Once you find the door just beyond a closed cigar shop, it’s easy to imagine needing a password too. It looks like a private party is going on in there, with clutches of friends perched on ottomans and draped on the barstools.
But no, here’s one hostess, sometimes two or three, in suitably figure-hugging frocks, ready to confirm your reservation. Once I actually got one of the swell booths along the curved facade. The other two times, we were led straight out to the less-than-charming “garden terrace” out back, screened off with plastic curtains for the winter, with a heater blasting air hot enough to toast your ankles.
Swathed in luxury
The place is drop-dead gorgeous, though. Mitchell, who is also responsible for the look of Sushi Roku, Katana and Linq, has dressed Avenue in the chocolate leather and tans you see on the fashion runway or fondle in high-end boutiques. It’s reminiscent of Armani’s palette crossed with Tom Ford’s sultry sexiness. The textures are so soft to the touch they practically purr. And what about those amazing butterscotch suede curtains that sweep two stories from ceiling to floor? Even the menu covers are suede.
Most restaurants of this genre would hover right there as a pure scene, a slick backdrop. But Avenue’s owners have also tried to create a serious restaurant.
Instead of a young unknown, they went with Andrew DeGroot, who cooked at the little French bistro Pastis before becoming chef at the luxe Santa Monica hotel Casa del Mar.
His food is more ambitious and certainly much more French in sensibility than the easygoing California fare at Falcon or Linq, to name two of L.A.’s recent wave of design-driven restaurants.
As an amuse-bouche, DeGroot might send out an espresso cup of parsnip soup with a foamy milk cap. Of course, because this is L.A., one of the most popular (and inevitable) first courses is ahi tuna tartare. His version is reasonably good though: a molded cake of diced raw tuna with a skirt of emerald-rimmed slices of pickled Japanese cucumber. He’s given it a Korean spin with pine nuts and a sweet dressing that, for my taste, is a bit cloying and obscures the tuna. But maybe for some people, that’s the point.
Another first course, the roasted Maine lobster chick (a small one), is nicely cooked but the meat is tough and totally lacking in flavor. As if to compensate, DeGroot has punched it up with a tamarind sauce with a sharp bite of fresh ginger. He does a fine job with seared foie gras, balancing it atop a vanilla bean poached pear so it looks like a squat toadstool there in the middle of the plate.
Green gnocchi the size of large Chiclets won’t make an Italophile’s day, but the combination of gnocchi with perfectly cooked langoustines in a saffron butter sauce is right on the mark. And when he gets live Nantucket scallops, he presents them beautifully in their dainty shells on a spoonful of finely minced vegetables and crispy pancetta.
Order with care
Main courses are much more uneven. If you happen to order the wild Scottish salmon, for example, or even the half roasted chicken or the grilled prime rib steak, you’ll go away with the impression Avenue might be a serious contender. Wild Scottish salmon is fit into a round mold and roasted to look like a jigsaw puzzle. Crisp at the edges, rare at the center, it’s set down in a lake of horseradish cream strewn with snipped chives.
Half a small free-range chicken arrives in a copper pan with a contingent of chanterelles, delicious baby turnips and a puree of parsnips and potatoes. Grilled prime rib steak is carved off the bone and served with funny little boniato potato cakes. The bone is worth fighting for.
On the other hand, if you’re unwise enough to choose the Maine lobster or the lamb, you’ll grumpily pay the bill and swear never to come back. Perhaps foolishly, I decided to try the Maine lobster one night, listed at market price. Since the waiter didn’t volunteer it, I asked. For $58 I would expect at least one of the best lobsters of my life. It was as disappointing as that chick, though this time it came with a gummy saffron risotto that had seen better days -- and three drops of sauce placed artfully on the edge of the plate. The pistachio-crusted lamb looked like a plateful of fossils it was so dried out. Not one of us had the gumption (or the hunger) to finish it.
In the end, despite the trendy trimmings, what you’re getting is more like hotel food -- primped and impersonal -- than anything innovative or soulful. The menu reads better than it tastes. What’s on the plate is indistinguishable from similar dishes wherever French-California cuisine is practiced.
But maybe that’s the point. Maybe the illusion of cutting edge is enough in this town, where expensive passes as quality. Avenue should fit right in.
(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)Avenue
Rating: *
Location: 301 N. Canon Drive, Beverly Hills; (310) 275-2900.
Ambience: Sleek, sophisticated restaurant and lounge dressed in dramatic suede curtains and chocolate brown leather banquettes; the unlucky will be steered to the outdoor patio, draped in shower-grade plastic curtains in cold weather.
Service: Pleasant service from veteran waiters, though the hostesses act like amateurs.
Price: Dinner appetizers, $8 to $21; main courses, $24 to $58; desserts, $9.
Best dishes: Ahi tuna tartare, seared foie gras, gnocchi with langoustines, roasted free-range chicken, wild Scottish salmon, grilled prime rib steak, mixed berry crisp.
Wine list: Predominantly California with a handful of interesting choices from other regions. Corkage, $20.
Best table: One of the booths along the windows.
Details: Open for dinner Monday through Saturday, 6 to 11 p.m. (bar stays open until 2 a.m.); and for lunch Monday through Friday, 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. Valet parking, $4.
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.
