RESTAURANTS : Quality of Century City’s Marketplace Snack Stands Is as Varied as the Fare

It was just after 5 on a Thursday afternoon. The sun was shining down on people sitting at tables heaped with food and drinks and big puffy paper bags filled with their latest purchases.

Some stared lazily up at the sky, thinking that it was a perfect California afternoon. Some read, some ate, a few snapped their fingers in time to the music. Up on a small impromptu bandstand, a group of nattily dressed singers was belting out a rousing version of “Chain Gang.” My nephew sipped an Oreo cookie smoothie through a straw. “Yuck,” he said, pushing it away, “and I used to think you had a great job.”

No new purchases perched on our table. We had used up this particular afternoon grazing lazily through the snack stands in Century City’s Marketplace. “That’ll be great!” John had enthused when I’d suggested the idea. Now, three hours later, he was definitely reconsidering his early optimism.

The Marketplace is a large building surrounded by outdoor tables and bounded by movie theaters, shops and department stores; standing sentry all around are Century City’s full-service restaurants like Langan’s, Yin Yang, the about-to-open Paradise Club and the Stage Deli. Century City used to boast a wonderful Clifton’s Cafeteria as well, but now that it has packed up its wholesome fare and moved on, this is Century City’s remaining low-priced eating option.

The Marketplace certainly does offer a lot of options. But, as we were to discover, the quality varies considerably from stand to stand.

A quick tour revealed that the longest lines were at Five-Star Burgers. Thinking that maybe everybody was on to something good, we started there with a Buddy Hackett--a plain half-pound burger that costs $4. You can get a quarter-pounder for $2.95, or pay a little more for the Don Rickles (with guacamole) or the Mario Machado (with cottage cheese). It’s a good big burger that comes with lettuce and tomato on the side.

“Don’t eat it all,” I said to John. “We’ve got a lot more food to try.” “Don’t worry,” he replied, blithely finishing off his burger and reaching for an onion ring, “I’m equal to this task.” But he took a bite of an onion ring and dropped it quickly back onto the plate. “Not worth wasting my appetite on,” he said.

Right next door at Gulen’s Mediterranean Cuisine, the woman serving the food was munching on a plate of food with obvious relish. “What is that?” I asked. “Oh,” she said, hastily hiding it under the counter, “it’s a chicken quesadilla from Bueno Bueno, the Mexican place around the corner.” “I don’t think that’s a good sign,” muttered my nephew. He was right; we each took one bite of the falafel and instantly understood why the woman wasn’t eating one. “I’d call this a feel awful ,” said John, heading for the garbage can. (The falafel was terrible, but the restaurant does manage a decent gyro ; they also have a number of salads served in little plastic boxes.)

We hit Steel Pier, whose motto is “Where the ocean meets Century City,” next. On one side, a man stands behind an oyster bar, forlornly opening mollusks. On the other side, various kinds of fish are fried and grilled. We started off with a shrimp cocktail ($5.95); my nephew pointed out that we were paying $1.50 a shrimp. “But they’re big,” I said. “Yes,” he replied, “but close your eyes.” I did. “Now take a bite,” he commanded. “What are you eating?” I had to admit that, with my eyes closed, it was impossible to tell what the slightly rubbery substance in my mouth was. Never have I tasted such flavorless shrimp.

Steel Pier also serves an adorable chowder in a bun for $2.95; this is a small, round, hollow loaf of bread filled with a very thick clam chowder. It tastes creamy and, if you don’t think about the fact that the sea is supposed to have washed into Century City, it’s not bad. “This is seafood for people who don’t like fish,” said John, noting that the grilled tuna sandwich tasted more like the grill than the tuna.

“Getting full yet?” I asked, beginning to wonder if this little adventure had been such a good idea after all. “Of course not,” he said contemptuously, dragging me off to Al’s Roadhouse for barbecue. We noticed that most people here seemed to be eating enormous baked potatoes topped with various items, but we opted for the main event. The combination plate ($9.95) gave us chicken, beef ribs, pork ribs, a link, cole slaw and baked beans, all in a little plastic box.

“Why,” asked John, as he lugged this to our table, “is everything covered with this sticky sweet sauce?” A couple of bites revealed the answer: Without the sauce, the food had none of the fine smokey flavor that distinguishes barbecue from mere roasted meats. In fact, even with the sauce, it still bore little relationship to the sort of fare they serve at Mom’s or Leon’s. “Still,” said John, in the interest of fairness, “this is a lot of food for the money.” I sat back and watched in astonishment as he proceeded to eat most of it.

“Ready for more?” I asked. He was, so we headed off for Bueno Bueno. This is certainly the stand that produces the most attractive plates of food; people picking up their trays are walking advertisements, which might explain why there is usually a line here. There are no big surprises, but everything--from the quesadillas to the nachos topped with beans and guacamole and sour cream to the big burritos and the combination plates--are tasty. There’s a fairly mild fresh salsa served with everything, and hotter salsa to serve yourself from the little bar in the front of the stand. “No wonder everybody here seems to be eating Mexican food,” said John, admitting, finally, that he was getting a little full.

And that’s how we happened to find ourselves sipping smoothies from C. City Sippers and listening to the band. The smoothies were mostly ice and very disappointing, but by the time he finished his, John finally admitted that he’d had enough. “Can’t we come back another day?” he pleaded.

We did come back a couple of days later, to eat cinnamon rolls from Bodacious buns (good, big, sweet and sticky), and sausages and cheesesteaks from Muster’s Hofbrau. Their all-beef hot dog is from Vienna sausages, the rest of the repertoire from Usinger’s. “Ah,” said John, biting into a satisfyingly spicy Polish sausage on a poppy-seed sprinkled bun, “you can’t go wrong with hot dogs. Although I do think you ought to tell people to avoid the German potato salad.”

But it was right next door at Raja that we hit the Marketplace jackpot. This is the one stand that makes food that really tastes like it was made by human hands. Tandoori chicken is moist and tasty and, for $3.99, it comes with dal (creamed lentils) , saffron-sprinkled basmati rice or the tandoori bread, nan . The nan is, unfortunately, pre-made and not hot out of the oven, but it still tastes good. Everything else has a really fresh flavor, the spices standing out with great distinction. I especially liked the vegetarian dishes-- bhartha (eggplant redolent of coriander) and palak paneer (spicy creamed spinach with homemade cheese). There are also various kinds of curry.

“I always thought I didn’t like Indian food,” said my nephew, dipping a fat samosa filled with potatoes and vegetables into a fresh green chutney. “But this is really delicious.” Then he looked at me sideways and said, “Maybe you do have a pretty good job after all.”

Century City Marketplace in the Century City Shopping Center, 10250 Santa Monica Blvd., Century City. Validated parking. Hours vary, but most stands open daily for lunch and dinner. Music every Thursday from 5 to 7 p.m.