An oasis of Moroccan cool

Somehow I knew the minute I said the word “Moroccan,” my faithful dining companion would try to squirrel out of dinner at Chameau. This was the guy who squirmed in embarrassment the time a blue-eyed blond shook all her appurtenances in his face at a long-forgotten restaurant, so I had to promise -- no, swear -- that belly dancers were definitely not involved before he’d agree to come. And just to annoy me, he insisted on pronouncing the name, which is French for camel, as shah-moo instead of shah-mow.

Why bother to invite him, you may wonder? Because he loves to eat and has such a pitch-perfect palate. It’s a pleasure to feed him something delicious. And I knew that if he could get beyond his cliched idea of a Moroccan restaurant, he’d recognize Chameau for the find that it is.

You know the kind of place he’s thinking of: all done up in soft rugs, embroidered poufs, patterned tile and ornate lanterns. You wash your hands at the table as someone in a fez pours water from a silver pitcher into a basin. The menu goes on and on, that belly dancer wiggles by at set intervals, and finally there are tiny glasses of fragrant mint tea. Once a year, for a special date or a birthday celebration, it’s fun.

But Chameau is something different, the Moroccan equivalent of a bistro, with a casual hip vibe and a small a la carte menu of smart contemporary food that changes each season.

The restaurant started out three years ago in a tiny storefront in Silver Lake, where it was open only on weekends and was strictly BYOB. Two months ago owners Kelly Klemovich and Moroccan-born chef Adel Chagar moved into a quirky spot on Fairfax Avenue just north of Beverly Boulevard.

The look of the place is whimsical and slightly goofy. The bar is bathed in cobalt blue light, which induces a kind of giddiness. The dining room is the size of a shoebox, pulsing with color and pattern, Morocco as pinball machine.

The cozy U-shaped booths look like leftovers from a ‘50s coffee shop, except for the skinny mural of desert and dunes floating overhead. A single row of oversized black fringe hangs from the ceiling. What’s that supposed to be, you can’t help but wonder. Why, that’s the camel’s eyelash.

Before you order a thing, a waiter in black djellaba and apron delivers a trio of miniature tagines, the traditional glazed terra-cotta dishes with conical lids. Inside are dark and green olives slicked with olive oil, an eggplant dip and -- the one I scarf up every time I go -- preserved lemon dip laced with sweet spices, made with lemons pickled in brine until the peel becomes soft as silk.

The bread is the traditional flattened loaf dotted with sesame seeds and anise seeds, served warm. It’s made to Chameau’s recipe by the lady at Diamond Bakery next door, who also helps out in the kitchen, our waiter tells us.

The one dish you have to have at Chameau is the bestila, which is, hands down, the best around. It’s basically a savory pie of some kind of poultry layered with eggs and almonds and scented with lemon and cinnamon. Most Moroccan restaurants use easily available filo dough for the pastry leaves, but not Chameau.

Chagar makes it with the traditional pastry called warka, bouncing a ball of dough off a hot pan to leave a single layer of thin, fragile pastry behind. The pastry leaves are piled up and filled with duck (in Morocco it might be pigeon), its dark, moist flesh playing beautifully off the toasted almonds and fluffy curds of egg simmered in stock and sweet spices. The top is decorated with a drift of powdered sugar and a trail of ground cinnamon. Together, the flavors are sheer magic.

Butterflied sardines rubbed with charmoula, a Moroccan spice mixture, are another enticing starter. It’s rare enough to get sardines in a restaurant, but these are delicious and served with a roasted pepper salad. This is real food, vibrant and interesting.

Cheeks are in fashion in California and Mediterranean restaurants around town, usually tender morsels of braised veal or beef for fall, but here lamb cheeks are braised in a Dijon mustard sauce and served on a bed of spinach as an appetizer. It’s the perfect portion: They’re too rich for an entire plateful.

Deep-fried mussels scattered over a salad are less successful; the batter dominates so much, there could be anything inside. But I do love the juicy green salad with haricots verts, sliced radish, lemon and argan oil, made from the nuts of a tree that grows in the Moroccan desert.

French bistros offer grilled merguez sausages, but they’re usually not very high quality. Here, these North African sausages are unusually good, a loosely ground mixture of spicy lamb nestled in a soothing garbanzo bean puree. If you want to up the ante, try them with some of Chameau’s own harissa, a hot sauce made from a mixture of red Thai chiles and sweet peppers.

Wines that are a match

By now, after we’ve shared a couple of rounds of appetizers, my friend has forgotten all about the threat of belly dancers and is happily eating.

This food is not an easy match with wine, but Klemovich and company have come up with a short, sweet list of Rhones and Central Coast reds that hit the right notes, most at neighborhood bistro prices. They’ve even found a few Moroccan wines too, and a couple of decent roses. The choice of labels, though, could be more savvy.

Main courses are more traditional, mostly braised dishes, with an emphasis on lamb. Char-grilled chops are lovely accompanied by couscous studded with zucchini and olives. But I’m partial to the lamb shank, slow-roasted to falling-off-the-bone tenderness, paired with a refreshing mint-laced couscous and spiced quince.

Two can share saddle of lamb, which is sometimes offered as a special, along with a couscous ornamented with all sorts of vegetables. Plainer yet is a beef tagine, or stew, with tomatoes and onions. Poussin, though, is overcooked and bland.

But the whole roasted loup de mer one friend ordered the last time I ate at Chameau is now my favorite dish. Boned at the table by the famously shy chef himself, it is moist and tender, perfumed with a charmoula, which is also served on the side.

Vegetarians can put together a viable meal with several of the appetizers or an all-vegetable couscous and a couple of sides. It’s a lot more interesting than the usual grilled vegetable plate at many restaurants.

Save room for dessert, especially bestila au lait, which uses that same glorious pastry, this time layered with a light pastry cream, strawberries and toasted almonds. It’s large enough to share, and it takes just moments for the fragile pastry to entirely disappear.

There’s a fine warm chocolate cake too, and a plate of Moroccan cookies, along with a Moroccan “snake” filled with almond paste. If you want something refreshing, go with the mint ice cream or watermelon sorbet. It’s also nice to find someplace where the desserts are not in the double digits.

I could eat here a lot. And that’s the point. Morocco has a rich culinary tradition that’s barely explored in most menus. Chameau’s small menu gives Chagar the opportunity to explore a different piece of Moroccan cuisine each season. His cooking isn’t literal: That’s what’s so interesting. He’s more like a jazz musician riffing on a Moroccan theme, giving it an edge of cool.

*

Chameau

Rating: ** 1/2

Location: 339 N. Fairfax Ave., Los Angeles; (323) 951-0039

Ambience: Smart Moroccan bistro with a casual vibe, an a la carte menu and a whimsical decor that’s light on folklore, strong on design. Think Bauhaus textiles meets ‘50s coffee shop.

Service: Welcoming and professional.

Price: Appetizers, $8 to $11; main courses, $18 to $25; desserts, $5 to $6.

Best dishes: Duck bestila, butterflied sardines with charmoula, grilled merguez sausage, baked poussin with saffron and green olives, slow-roasted lamb shank with quince, raisin couscous, bestila au lait, watermelon sorbet.

Wine list: Eclectic and affordable, with a number of selections under $30. Corkage, $10.

Best table: One of the U-shaped booths along the wall.

Special features: Catering available.

Details: Open for dinner Tuesday through Sunday, 6 to 10 p.m. Beer and wine. Lot and street parking. Valet parking on weekends in Diamond Bakery lot just south of the restaurant, $3.

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.