RESTAURANTS : MONDRIAN’S 7 MENUS FOR TRANSIENT FOODIES

Raised in Nueva York, I grew up with the notion that hotels were not really part of a real New Yorker’s world. When I emigrated to Los Angeles, the new set of local hotels also remained outside of my life. You might meet an out-of-town uncle at the Beverly Wilshire, take a visiting Easterner to the Polo Lounge, or have a very occasional drink at the Bonaventure. But basically, nearly everyone I know steers clear of that transient world.

However, restaurant critics go where wise men do not tread and sometimes find a nook in their own burg. I’d passed the Mondrian Hotel on the Sunset Strip thousands of times and never once considered stopping in. Who ever thought about a restaurant there? When the press packet arrived with (count ‘em) seven different menus--the breakfast, the Sunday brunch, the menu minceur, lunch, intermezzo, dinner and late supper--I became intrigued, because I’m always interested in places to eat between “regular” mealtimes.

Complimentary valet parking is a big, fat plus, particularly in that neighborhood, and gets a meal off to an easy start. Just enter the lobby and you have that out of town feeling--cool, pretty, corporately decorated. Where are we? Houston? Chicago? Detroit? But once you enter the Cafe, it’s clearly Los Angeles. There’s a great view looking south and east (with its obvious air quality report), and a terrace with pool and umbrellas to eat out on when the weather’s good.

We decided to meet friends for an intermezzo tasting and called Cafe Mondrian to make sure that they did serve it from 2:30 p.m. until 6 p.m., as announced.

Yes, it’s fine to arrive at 5:30, they said.

Who knew we would meet the Surly Employee of the Year?

Seated by the window in the lovely, light filled room, with its commodious tables and spanking white nappery, we were handed a dinner menu by the hostess.

“We’d like the intermezzo menu, please.”

Never have you seen a terminally hip person undergo such a transformation. She snatched the dinner menus from our hands, pursed her lips into a snarl of utter disgust and turned on her spike heels in Cruella de Ville style. Stunned by such theatrical rudeness, we wondered what we had done to incur this wrath. Request the less expensive--and expansive--menu and dare to ask for a window seat? (We happened to be the only ones there.) After we were ignored for a good 10 minutes, a dear and professional waiter took us in hand.

Frankly, if I weren’t obliged to go back for a second look, I probably would never have returned to Cafe Mondrian again. True, the chilled melon soup was good and the endive salad couldn’t have been fresher or more prettily served, but that flouncing surly hostess (and a roast beef sandwich with unpleasant meat) put a pall over the late-afternoon meal. The great hill of raspberries along with a fine cappucino softened our moods but the pastries (baked, we were told, at Le Bel Age, another of the L’Ermitage hotels) were nothing we’d pine for. The grating Muzak made us feel we were in an airport lounge.

But lunch, on another day, could not have pleased me more. Service was gorgeously professional and the good hotel amenities--the butter rosettes, the constantly replenished-from-a-silver-carafe ice tea, the hot, hot rolls--were soothing too. The room is quiet, as yet not packed. It’s a great place to have a real conversation, an assignation or a working lunch. (The tables are roomy and the black mirrored pillars allow for privacy.)

We started by sharing an enormous Chinese chicken salad, really one of the most elegant I’ve had, with thin slivers of crunchy carrots, scallions and pea pods. The dressing was light and potent; the chicken had real taste.

Our main courses, from the menu minceur, were equally delicious. An exceedingly generous portion of poached mahi-mahi was enhanced by a marvelous sunrise colored mango curry coulis. Half a broiled chicken--suffused with ginger, lime and soy sauce--was fine textured and grilled crisp to a coppery sheen. Vegetables were beautifully presented and lightly cooked too. (We decided we’d found a nifty hideaway. Then the parking people left a complimentary mint in our car and we sailed down Sunset Boulevard, feeling we’d really been far away.)

A few days later, we hit the place around midnight for some late supper--and it turned out, some light jazz. The cafe has entertainment every night of the week. They also have a modest menu of sandwiches, soups, and hot full meals. (The really interesting selections are mainly at lunch and dinner time.) Late supper is served in the lounge (no view, and the tables are smaller) and service was pretty ditsy the night we were there.

Dishes appeared on the table one by one; a salmon filet (sauteed, and not grilled, as the menu said) finally arrived when everyone else at the table was done. The cook was supposedly “making a special sauce” but if it was for the juicy, crusty salmon, this never appeared on the plate. Still, the pasta primavera with it’s fanciful red, green and white shells, was al dente and absolutely comforting. A decent cheeseburger came with cardboard fries; a green salad had a good, ringing vinaigrette; and the onion soup was suspiciously sweet. Steamed vegetables were simple and pleasant, pate was pedestrian, and the waitress was dying to go home around one, clearing everything away.

This Sunday, the Cafe is having a special Father’s Day brunch: Barbecue grills, a rainbow trout fish tank, and a 30-item buffet will be on the outdoor patio, and fathers can fish (nets provided) for their meal. If you’ve never been to a hotel dining room before, this could be a good introduction to transient life. Remember it for breakfast by the pool when you just can’t get out of town.

Cafe Mondrian, Mondrian Hotel, 8440 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, (213) 650-8999. Open daily 7:30 a.m.-1a.m. All major credit cards. Valet parking. Full bar. Dinner for two (food only): $32-$85.