CAJUN-CALIFORNIA MENU HAS REAL WESTWARD TILT

The Cajun rage goes on, and now we have a place in Dana Point called Ghaffari’s California and Cajun Cuisine. Make no mistake, though, Ghaffari’s is California through and through. We’re talking a raspberry-oriented menu; we’re talking quail served with raspberry vinaigrette in a salad where a couple of raspberries sit on endive leaves like paperweights. The swamplands are far away.

Fine with me, since one of the two chefs here is Whitney Williams, whose former home was the doomed but excellent Monaco’s in Newport Beach. It’s good to see her attractive, ingratiating style again. The striking roast rabbit in a complex sauce that somehow has an aroma like old wine (actually it’s Grand Marnier with various dried fruits) reminds me of Monaco’s in the way the rabbit is prettily presented on a background--it looks like a hill covered with greenery--of lettuces and bright green, barely cooked broccoli.

In the California tradition, we have a combination of French and Italian attitudes toward cooking mixed with a definite Oriental influence, such as the delicious little pot of raw vegetables flavored with pickled ginger and almonds that comes with oysters chinoise. The chinoiserie is Californianized, though. The most appealing entree, duck with a snappy plum sauce, is made from fresh plums. None of your bottled Chinese plum sauce for us.

The Cajun stuff is quite Californianized too. The barbecue shrimp are actually barbecued, though in Louisiana “barbecue shrimp” seem always to be sauteed in butter (I suspect the explanation may be that “barbecue shrimp” are traditionally served at a barbecue, rather than being exposed to barbecuing themselves). So it’s not authentic, maybe. They’re attractively charcoaly, and why shouldn’t we barbecue shrimp?

The gumbo is strictly from California. It’s a version where the Cajun roux (browned flour base) is interpreted as a basis for gravy rather than soup, and instead of having everything cooked together a long time, the gravy, mixed seafood and okra are evidently put together at the last minute; Californians cannot bring themselves to cook okra to rags in the Southern tradition. As a result, it doesn’t taste terribly Louisianan. The roux seems oily and could use a stronger seafood stock, I suspect. It’s improved with a little salt, though, and ends up not so far off the mark. For California.

Cajun popcorn, which everybody by now must know as a whimsical name for bits of deep-fried seafood (here shrimp, crab and scallops with corn breading), is basically pretty good. Generous, too--this is an appetizer that ought to be split by two people. I wish the menu wouldn’t refer to the faintly flavored mayonnaise (a bit of mustard?) that accompanies it as remoulade sauce, though. Look in the books--there’s no mystery about what goes into real Louisiana remoulade.

Lots of things get blackened, of course. Shrimp and red snapper both do, the latter coming with an ultra-Californian pineapple saffron sauce. The blackened fish are fine (and rather spicy), but there’s trouble in the blackened filet. This is a tender steak about the size of a hardball, perfectly cooked medium rare inside and with a nice bit of charcoaly coating. However, someone has decided to give it a blackened sauce as well. Let’s keep some perspective here. A little charcoalized flavor can be attractive, but a lot--in this case there’s enough to drown out the essence of sun-dried tomato the menu speaks of--just makes a dish taste as if there was a fire in the kitchen.

The desserts are quite wonderful. About half are on the French side: creamy creme brulee with blueberries and a sort of mock-Napoleon of chocolate leaves (they really look like leaves, complete with veins) interlayered with raspberries. There are also some slicked-up Southern desserts. The bread pudding may contain a flavoring of peaches or plums, and it’s a good one by any standard with a nice balance of toasty and mushy texture, flashily presented in a puddle of luscious bourbon sauce (mostly tasting of fresh caramel) decorated with little flower buds of raspberry and cream sauces. The best may be the pecan/sweet potato pie, though I understand several Southern counties have laws against putting a California-style raspberry cream sauce on either pecan or sweet potato pie.

Altogether--well, excluding the blackened steak sauce and a somewhat watery free-range chicken--Ghaffari’s is a delightful place with a quaint menu (I wouldn’t say no to another helping of the wild game sausage with pears) and a nice balcony view of the rest of the Dana Point Harbor Pavilion. Appetizers run $5.25-$8.50, gumbo $9.50, salads $2.95-$7.95, entrees $9.95-$19.95. Weekend brunch, featuring scaled-down versions of dinner entrees and a few special dishes such as rabbit hash, is $8.95.

GHAFFARI’S CALIFORNIA AND CAJUN CUISINE 24921 Dana Point Harbor Drive, Dana Point

(714) 661-0188

Open for dinner Tuesday through Sunday; Saturday and Sunday brunch. American Express, MasterCard and Visa accepted.