NEW DECOR, OLD CUISINE

L’Ermitage, 730 N. La Cienega Blvd., Los Angeles. (213) 652-5840. Dinner, Monday-Saturday. All major credit cards accepted. Valet parking. Dinner for two, food only, $75-$120.

People who care about food tend to think of restaurants in L.A. as B.B. and A.B.--before and after Bertranou. The chef himself arrived here, and immediately wrote to France saying, “California is one of the most beautiful countries I have seen in my life, but when it comes to cooking, forget it.”

But Jean Bertranou didn’t forget it. He changed it. He didn’t like the green beans he found in the markets; he hired someone to grow better ones. He didn’t like the ducks much either; he soon started a duck farm. (The story of how he smuggled the duck eggs in from France by hiding them among white chocolate eggs and ostentatiously cracking one of the candies at customs is probably apocryphal.) Bertranou made better smoked salmon than anybody had ever tasted in Los Angeles, and when he opened L’Ermitage in 1975, the event resonated throughout the community. In the words of another chef, “He showed that something more could be done in Los Angeles.”

Bertranou’s influence is everywhere. Even today it’s hard to go into a fine restaurant in this town and not find someone who came out of his kitchen. He was widely admired and greatly loved, and when he died six years ago, there was genuine mourning in the restaurant community.

Bertranou himself was loved, but his restaurant wasn’t. People respected it, but they treated it with kid gloves. It was, if truth be told, a little stuffy. And under Bertranou’s successor, Michel Blanchet, things didn’t change all that much. Blanchet, whom the skeptical had said could never keep up the standards of the restaurant, inherited the mantle. He said things like, “A nice restaurant has to be perfect from A to Z.” Blanchet became “the chef’s chef.” L’Ermitage continued to get respect; it still did not inspire affection.

That may be one reason why the new owners of the restaurant, Dora and Jean-Pierre Fourcade, decided to redecorate. They closed at the beginning of September, and when they reopened two weeks later the restaurant had lost some of its stuffiness. The colors are lighter now; there is an air of openness. Where there were lights, there are now sconces. All the wood is blond. The bar has changed from straight to curved. A couple of large pillars stand sentry at the door, adding a tasteful touch of post-modernism. There seem to be windows where there weren’t.

The mood is decidedly upbeat, and while the overall impression used to be one of sterling dignity, it is now of glass and flowers and pastel. Even better, the service has come down from its high horse; this is now a friendly place to eat.

But the menu remains extremely restrained, as if it were not quite comfortable with the new decor. There is little excitement in the best dishes: a textbook feuillete with salmon in a very correct beurre blanc; a beautifully roasted squab; aiguillete of duck breast in red wine sauce; the inimitable smoked salmon. All are excellent. But I found some of the more interesting dishes disappointing: an intriguing John Dory “souffled with cheese and rosemary” was sadly overcooked, the poor dry fish overwhelmed by herbs. A saddle of rabbit was absurdly fussy. Whoever is making the desserts doesn’t seem to be having much fun.

What’s fun got to do with it? Well, when Jean Bertranou opened L’Ermitage, he did more than bring great food to Los Angeles. He brought passion into the kitchen with a sweeping enthusiasm that inspired the city’s young chefs. That verve seems gone. L’Ermitage remains a wonderful restaurant, but now that they’ve taken the starch out of the dining room, you can’t help wishing they’d unbend a little in the kitchen.