Dominick’s: You Wouldn’t Recognize the Place

Once upon a time, there was a Los Angeles restaurant that looked like it belonged almost anywhere else. It was a friendly sort of place, a comfortably shabby cabin dominated by a bar that was dominated by a bartender. It felt more like a set for some hokey American movie than anything that existed in real life; sitting at that bar you would sip your drink and wait for something wonderful to happen. You imagined that strangers would walk in and become friends, that starlets would be discovered, that dreams of all sorts would come true.

And then one day somebody bought that little restaurant. They closed its doors and, for a long time, mysterious poundings and hammerings could be heard inside. You wondered what was going on, but you never could see inside. You thought to yourself that the fish tank behind the bar was being enlarged, the kitchen cleaned up, the funky little bathrooms made more presentable. You fantasized that a great chef was finally being brought in, and that the place would soon serve fabulous food. And then one day the doors were reopened and you went rushing in.

Only to discover . . . that it now looks like half the other eating establishments in this town. What was once a cabin with character has turned into a dear little peach-and-green cafe with tasteful art on the walls, tablecloths and upholstered booths. The same lights that dangle over all the other chic tables in Los Angeles now dangle over these. Dominick’s has turned into Dominick’s by Silvio; you’d never recognize the old place.

The old Dominick’s, for all its charm, was known for its occasional rudeness. The new one, on the other hand, has an extraordinarily sweet maitre d’ who works the room with an eager will. When he asks if you are pleased, you know he means it. And you wish you were.

Mostly, however, you are not. Consider lunch. Theoretically this should be the perfect place for a leisurely ladies’ lunch. All the new prettiness is enhanced when the room is filled with sunlight, and the mostly-fish menu is light and easy. But my least-finicky friend turned up her nose at a mozzarella salad that cost $9.75, and I found a mousse of avocado and crab so salty that it was virtually inedible. When I looked over to see what another friend was doing with her calamari salad, I found her calmly spreading the lettuce around so that it covered the squid. “I can’t eat this stuff,” she said. Neither could I.

There were a couple of decent dishes. Seafood pasta came in a very creamy sauce topped with mussels, salmon and little strips of tuna. A paillard of chicken was peppery and fine. And while the only thing unusual about the “unique Dominick’s steak” was the amount of nutmeg in the gratin dauphinois that came with it (the old Dominick’s would have called this scalloped potatoes), it was not a bad piece of meat.

And so I went back for dinner. A couple of times. The last time Mr. Movie came with me. He started with the steamed vegetable plate, which was simple and delicious. “The beans still squeak,” he protested, but I liked the lightly cooked vegetables topped with olive and truffle oil. “What’s not to like?” asked Mr. Movie. “If I hated vegetables, I wouldn’t have ordered this dish in the first place. And if you like vegetables, how can you go wrong with something as straight-ahead as this?”

But other, more complicated dishes could go wrong--and did. Rock crab ravioli with vanilla butter sauce was simply silly. Lobster bisque contained a wild rice quenelle that had shattered into scattered grains. A simple salad came overdressed to the point of sogginess; the not-so-simple ones come topped with things like flowers, baby calamari and orange-Campari dressings.

Mr. Movie wanted to order the lobster-- at $30 the most expensive thing on the menu. Then he stopped himself. “Last time I ordered lobster you made fun of me in print,” he demurred. He ordered the grilled jumbo scallops instead, pointing out that this dish was $11 less than the lobster. Mr. Movie could hardly have been more pleased. “I order scallops all the time,” he said gleefully, “and this is more scallops than I’ve ever gotten in a restaurant before.” Mr. Movie cares a lot about quantity, but even I had to admit that the scallops, served in a mild carrot coulis, were very nicely cooked.

I can’t say the same for the unfortunate roasted lobster. It came all dressed up in a champagne bath with sauteed cepes on the side. But despite the fancy backdrop, there was no denying that this was one tough lobster. I wasn’t much taken with white fish in a sweet ginger sauce either. A plate of tuna and swordfish came with pistou, a gutsy Provencale sauce that overwhelmed the flavor of the fish. As for the “risotto of the ocean”--it was just a pile of rice mixed up with shrimp, scallops, bits of tuna and salmon. Although it was beautifully served in a pretty copper pot, the dish was a lot closer to Spanish rice than risotto.

Desserts also sounded more interesting than they turned out to be. Homemade ice cream, for instance, which was served in mini-balls, came in four flavors the night I tried it. The saffron was strongly fragrant, brightly colored and quite good. Lavender was subtle but fine. But I could name any number of commercial concerns that turn out better versions of chocolate and coffee ice cream.

Of course you’ll find the designer dessert of the moment, creme brulee, on the menu. You will not find that it, or the warm apple tart, is particularly exciting.

“Menu created by Francis Bey and Eric Cuenin,” it says on the bottom of the menu. I didn’t have the heart to ask who they were. Whoever they may be, Dominick’s deserves better. The food may not have been much at the old Dominick’s; the service didn’t sparkle. Still, the old place had a certain something. It was a diamond in the rough and a swell place to be. The Silvio folks may have given Dominick’s plenty of polish, but they have not turned it into a gem.

Dominick’s by Silvio, 8715 Beverly Blvd . , West Hollywood, (213) 659-5171. Open for lunch Monday-Friday; for dinner Monday-Saturday. Full bar. Valet parking. All major credit cards accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $60 - $80 . Selected dinner prices:

Appetizers: steamed vegetables with truffle oil, $9.50; triangle of rock crab ravioli, $12.50; lobster bisque, $7.50 .

Entrees: white fish with sweet ginger sauce, $19; grilled tuna and swordfish with thyme flower and pistou, $23 .

Desserts: $6 .