SIMON AND SEAFORT’S: HEADY FEELING

Until I recently hit Simon and Seafort’s, the new Long Beach restaurant of abundance, it hadn’t occurred to me that the first line of “America, the Beautiful” could actually be about beer. But there I was, gazing out at the spacious skies overlooking the Catalina ferries, waiting for a friend, counting the profusion of drinks made from “amber waves of grain.” Twenty-five pure malt whiskeys (11 starting with the word Glen), a dazzling array of liquors and 21 kinds of draft and bottle beer each kept at the proper degree Fahrenheit.

Orval Trappist Ale from Belgium seemed exotic. “What’s it like?” I asked. “How do you describe beer?” the waitress shrugged. Orval, she might have said, is an aromatic beer made by Bruegelesque monks.

My friend arrived, and we went from the high-gleam, upbeat bar--decked out in leather, streamers and racing flags--to the spacious, deeply carpeted, comfortable dining room and ordered three kinds of oysters post-haste. (Simon and Seafort’s subtitle is “Fish, Chop and Oyster House.”)

How do you describe oysters? These were spankingly fresh, the baby Kumamoto’s etheric, the mama Hood Canal Yearlings velvet, the big daddy Shoalwaters pure fragrant silk. (Even though the wine list was lengthy, with plenty of wines by the glass, we continued to sample the beers. The Sierra Nevada Pale Ale: downright crinkly; the Henry Weinhard: brass sheen.)

“Ah, your basic trout-salmon motif,” my friend said, simultaneously poking his finger into the shallot-Champagne oyster dipping sauce and looking around the room. The decor, a kind of taxidermic surf and turf, mixes Hemingway with Ralph Lauren. “Rosemary bread,” he said, breaking off a piece of the hot, pale white-gold bread. “Is this place owned by Cutters?”

He was right. The multipaged menu, which explains everything (listing name brands and origins) calls the bread “Original Herb Pan-Bread.” And, yes, it is the same bread served at Cutters and Stepps, also owned by the same Seattle-based company, Restaurants Unlimited. Beautifully managed, I might add. Service is wonderful, food is impeccably fresh. Prices are reasonable for the consistent quality of the meals.

And these meals are even better than the beers. Particularly the straightforward achievements such as the changing selection of fresh mesquite-grilled fish and the Nebraska-grown, locked-up-for-28-days-of-solitary-confinement, aged meats. The New York steak was large, succulent, cooked right to taste, while hand-cut fish (we had blue bass) ordered in a “light cut” (smaller) portion was quite a juicy lot to eat. Flavored butters (such as vermouth garlic, ginger lime, tarragon, pecan), may be had on the side.

The accompaniments are topnotch too. Rock-salt baked russet potatoes are dusky and grand. Red-skinned potatoes, a rough-and-ready cross between home and French fries, come spiffily tossed with Swiss cheese. Fresh zucchini and the romaine salad were green and alive. A fettuccine swirling with garlic and Parmesan cream was the heady side order with a superb liver-and-onions plate. Only the Dungeness crab, artichoke and Parmesan cheese concoction (an appetizer light on the crab, heavy on the cream) tasted like quirky tuna noodle casserole the texture of onion soup dip. Stick with the men’s-club food. But save room for dessert--if you don’t have to drive.

At lunch one day, when we had just finished the best clam chowder we’ve eaten outside of Maine, a skywriter mysteriously spelled “Marijuana alters your brain” up in those spacious skies. I would have written “Simon and Seafort’s burnt cream” instead. The rich custard comes topped with a finger-thick crust of caramel. That chocolate mountain majesty, Blum’s coffee toffee pie (chocolate, coffee and whipped cream set in a walnut and chocolate crust) and the brandy ice (creme de cacao, Kahlua, brandy and vanilla ice cream) are both contenders for the altered state hall of fame too. There’s enough sugar in those desserts to zoom you from sea to shining sea.

Simon and Seafort’s, 340 Golden Shore, at Catalina Landing, Long Beach. (213) 435-2333. Open for lunch Monday-Saturday, for Sunday brunch, for dinner nightly. Validated parking. Full bar. Visa, Mastercard, American Express accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $25-$60.