RESTAURANT REVIEW : If Looks Could Cook, Mistral Would Be Divine

Going on looks alone, Mistral is one of the most appealing restaurants in the Valley. With is wooden chairs and white tile floors, its green faux marble tables and chandeliers and long, gleaming bar, Mistral provides the perfect setting for nightlong arguments on structuralism, deconstructivism, neo-reconstructivism. More likely, however, you’ll hear the short, fast-talking fellow at the next table say: “Yeah, well, I come out every year for pilot season. I get something, I stay; I don’t, go back to New York. . . . “ A few wan and darkly dressed customers drinking single malt scotches at the bar might pass for literati, but most of the clientele are prosperous, bright-eyed professionals, who are indeed the only ones who could afford to eat here.

Mistral looks the part of a bistro/ brasserie ; I wish I could say it cooks the part as well. My expectations were initially quite high. After all, the mistral the restaurant’s named for is a cold, violent northerly wind that blows through the south of France, and this leads me to hope not only for bistro-style food but for the sunny, flavorful, simple bistro fare of Provence as well: the ratatouilles, the seafood, the chevres and bright-tasting olive oils, the great lamb and the fresh herbs. But the food at Mistral is nothing like this. It’s more continental, a cuisine of rich sauces, heaped plates, airy bread and average ingredients. And while the service is cheerful and efficient, meals at Mistral are disappointing and therefore way too expensive.

At lunch, my friend Ellen’s salad with blue cheese and walnuts, which could have been heavenly, was terribly average--average romaine, tons of average blue cheese, average walnuts, average dressing. My fried mozzarella, a big square of the rubbery stuff in an oddly brown tomato sauce, was also unremarkable. For our entrees, we chose from the specials of the day. Ellen, who should have known better, ordered a Cajun sausage and goat cheese pizza, which came literally heaped with toppings and a was a little gummy, not to mention, obviously, rather salty. I had whitefish with roast garlic on spinach in some kind of butter sauce that came with rice, carrots and broccoli. No doubt about it, this was one square meal, and utterly dull. I did love a floating island desert: A nautilus-shaped meringue literally bobbed on a thin caramel sauce sea. It was delicious, chewy, light and sweet. The opera cake, consisting mostly of mocha and chocolate creams, was a monument to condensed sugar.

We’d ordered decaf cappuccinos and . . . well . . . I just keep forgetting that the very concept of a cappuccino varies from bistro to brasserie to trattoria to cucina up and down Ventura Boulevard. Mistral’s cappuccino is an ultra-sweet chocolate/mocha lukewarm drink topped with whipped cream, no straws. It was terrible. But then again, Mistral never claimed to be a cafe. . . .

So, when I returned for dinner a few days later with my friends Richard and Julie, my hopes were not unduly high. Nor should they have been. Julie did have a knockout fresh scallop, ginger and shiitake mushroom salad. But my Caesar was unexceptional (and oddly bitter) and Richard’s appetizer portion of fresh clam linguine, while tasty, mostly made him think he was lapping at the ocean it was so salty. My New York steak au poivre was quite good by comparison: perfectly cooked, peppery, richly sauced. Julie’s three lamb chops came in a nice brown reduction sauce with mint, and while they looked plump and juicy as could be, each chop was at least half fat.

Julie said that she couldn’t eat much of her linzer torte dessert because she’d filled up, regrettably, on lamb fat. But I tasted the linzer torte and found it alarmingly sweet. In fact, most of Mistral’s desserts were overpoweringly sweet.

Mistral, after more than a year on the boulevard, still looks like the perfect bistro and still qualifies unutterably as a brasserie , but as a place where one actually restores oneself with food, well . . . let’s not get carried away.

Recommended dishes: Scallop, ginger and shiitake mushroom salad, $6.50; N.Y. Steak au poivre , $17; Floating Island, $3.50.

Mistral, 13422 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks; (818) 981-6650. Open for lunch 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. Monday through Friday, for dinner from 5 to 10:30 p.m. Sunday through Thursday, till 11 p.m. Friday and Saturday. Full Bar. Valet parking. All major credit cards accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $30 to $60.