RESTAURANT REVIEW : After 3 Months, Brio Vindicates Hopes of Diners

In spite of all the best intentions, new restaurants are rarely born fully formed. There may be a liquor license, parking permit, motto, matches, starchy new linens and superstar chef. The grease trap can pass inspection, the demographic studies show nothing but promise, and on opening night the whole staff can show up early, ready for battle. But once the first paying customers enter there’s no telling what will happen.

It may be discovered, for example, that the espresso machine loses pressure after brewing six cups, that the menu, which took weeks of brainstorming and revision, is essentially unintelligible to the public, or that two of the three waiters falsified their resumes. Most new restaurants won’t know where their problems lie until they open their doors for business.

At 9 days old, Brio seemed like a big strapping baby tottering through its first steps. The space itself, with two large dining areas, brick walls, brass railings, attractive wooden bar and furniture, looked like a cross between Pasadena’s Parkway Grill and an upscale coffee shop. The sign outside the Tarzana eatery still read “Tony & Luigi’s,” and the staff and the majority of the customers were carry-overs from that previous regime. The staff seemed willing but dazed--possibly from memorizing the new menu created by owner Andre Guerrero of Alice’s Restaurant in Malibu--but they were nowhere near as disoriented as Tony & Luigi’s regular customers. The latter came in expecting the familiar Italian menu and were handed instead a veritable lexicon of “modern” California cuisine, including such eclecticisms as sole tamales and wild rice latkes .

Perhaps the most obvious monument to awkwardness was Tony & Luigi’s old salad bar--a big brass and tile thing that sat empty right in the middle of the room. Too expensive or difficult to remove, it was a white elephant waiting for a good idea.

On that first visit I was thrilled by our appetizers, an early eggplant and pepper soup and big, sweet flaky scallops, and then deflated by a soggy, salty artichoke and olive pizza. I like the idea of the sole tamale: The stuffed fillet steamed in a corn husk and served with a bright corn salsa was fun but not wildly tasty. A grilled, herbed chicken was dry and weirdly flavorless as were the accompanying wild rice latkes. Presentation was playful, but the chef hadn’t really coaxed full flavor from obviously excellent ingredients.

We left with high hopes for Brio, however, thanks to a sinfully intense chocolate souffle: Puffed up high from its dish, at once airy on the sides and custardy thick in the middle, it was perfect.

Now, 3 months later, our hopes are vindicated. Many of Brio’s more obvious problems are clearly being solved. The surface, always cheerful, is now relaxed and efficient as well. The menu is shorter and less eclectic than previous ones. But the irrepressible need for delight and innovation still surfaces in nightly specials, such as the chicken cooked in clay in the wood-burning oven. Already there’s much more confidence, more distinctiveness and mastery on each plate. At times, the food really sings.

A barbecued sea bass covered with corn and black bean ratatouille alone should secure Brio’s future. Salads are imaginative and lively; there’s a gingery new interpretation of that lady’s luncheon standby, Chinese chicken salad. The pizzas are still evolving. While the crust seems chewier than before, a Hawaiian Portuguese sausage, roasted pepper and sweet Maui onion pizza is disappointing, a sea of cheese with a few bits of flavor. Desserts, on the other hand, are uniformly excellent , especially a pear-marzipan tart, a Snicker (peanut, chocolate and caramel) pie, and of course the dreamy souffles.

Most impressive, however, is the good idea that came to that big old dead salad bar: These days it’s a tapas bar. Tapas are technically Spanish appetizers but Brio’s have definitely been updated. These awesome offerings will probably do more to charm the neighborhood than any menu or architectural modification. Actually seeing the cunningly bundled radicchio tostadas, swordfish escabeche and veal-coriander sausage is so appealing that you instantly want to taste.

Brio does seem just a little too expensive, especially for the more casual diner. While no one item seems singularly outrageous, bills add up quickly. Twenty-five or $30 per person is not outrageous for a special-occasion dinner, but we were a little abashed when one fast dinner for two--no cocktails, no dessert, no coffee--cost $58 after tax and tip. Granted the portions are mountainous, but we left half our entrees. We would have been far happier with less food for less money, especially if it meant we had room--and funds--left for dessert.

Recommended dishes: Chinese chicken salad $6.50; tapas $5.50; barbecued sea bass $15.50; chicken in clay $14.50; linguine with chicken and grilled eggplant $7.95; Chocolate and Grand Marnier souffles $4.50.

Brio, Wall Street Plaza, 18663 Ventura Blvd., Tarzana. (818) 609-7494. Open for lunch Monday-Saturday 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m; for dinner Sunday through Thursday 5 p.m. to 10 p.m.; Friday and Saturdays 5 to 11 p.m. The tapas bar is open continuously from lunch through dinner. Sunday brunch served 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Full bar. All major credit cards accepted. Valet parking available.