RESTAURANT REVIEW : Revisiting Memories of Meals Past

In July, after I wrote a column about the Golden Kiwi Kaffe (“Thumbs Down on Down Under Restaurant in Studio City”), a reader wrote in, furious. She was not defending the restaurant (she’d never been there), but was outraged on behalf of small businesses that in general, she claimed, are destroyed by such unfavorable reviews.

While it was certainly flattering to have such power ascribed to my opinions, and while it would be naive to declare that a review has absolutely no effect, I doubt that I can fill--or empty--a restaurant with customers for more than a few nights. After that, word of mouth takes over again. Even then, regardless of what I or any other customers or public relations people may say about them, restaurants generally cook what they cook, serve how they serve and in general determine their own fate. They’re just like people in that regard.

Recently, I’ve been revisiting some of the restaurants I’ve reviewed in the past year. Some started out with a strong concept and are enjoying substantial success, others solved their problems and thrive, some didn’t solve any problems but continue to get by and even prosper, and some, incapable of change, limped along until they self-destructed. Over and over, I saw that ALL restaurants, good and bad, continue to be exactly who they are and do exactly what they do, even if, like the Golden Kiwi Kaffe, it puts them out of business.

In June, I wrote about Val’s, the (self-proclaimed) “World’s Most Beautiful Restaurant” in Toluca Lake. I said that the dining room was designed and furnished for giants and that the food relied heavily on flourish and the transience of its eaters--my companions at dinner, for example, firmly declined an invitation to return. “In a word,” I wrote, “it’s terrible.”

Recently, when I stopped in for lunch, I found the restaurant doing a thriving business. The matchbooks no longer declare that Val’s is the “World’s Most Beautiful Restaurant”--a relief. And the food, while still expensive and inconsistent, was much improved. A pasta was not gummy. The Caesar salad was made with romaine, rather than iceberg lettuce, this time. The cr e me caramel , which a year ago was memorably gluey, was smooth and excellent. I still wouldn’t want to spend my own money for a weird smoked chicken salad (diced smoked chicken and celery in mayonnaise with melon) or the salty potage Parisienne . . . but the service was flawless and, all told, the lunch, while expensive, was pleasant.

I can’t help it, I keep going back to the Beaux Tie Grill, the friendly, Caribbean-inspired little restaurant up there in the culinary wasteland of North Hollywood. I’ve always been impressed by the chef/owner for creating the restaurant, and I keep hoping (unreasonably, it seems) that he will continue to grow and surprise me.

On a recent lunch visit there, I was happy to see that the place looked brighter than on my last visit--the front window had been washed. I was also glad to find the dining room bustling and the service no-nonsense and adept. Some things never change: The bread basket still contained those flimsy, store-bought onion rolls, and a Jamaican salad was ghastly--blackening lettuce dressed with a florescent pink, Kool-Aid-sweet, vinegary strawberry vinaigrette. But the catfish strips were spicy and crunchy and light.

In the review, I had complained that the jambalaya was a murky seafood sauce ladled onto undercooked yellow rice--I thought all ingredients should be simmered together in the same pot. This time, while the sauce was still ladled on separately, it was freshly made and delicious--chock-full of okra, corn, lima beans, shrimp and Cajun sausage, and the rice was fluffy. The daily special was a good piece of red snapper served in a red pepper cream that tasted like processed cheese spread. Still, even if it never improves, I can’t help it, I like the place. It’s friendly, it’s comfortable, and while some of the food is pretty bad, some is pretty good, and it’s all pretty reasonable. Mostly the Beaux Tie proves how hungry North Hollywood is for imaginative food.

Also in July, I wrote that Noodles in Glendale had affordable prices, pleasant service and food that was pretty good, but could be much better if somebody tasted it from time to time just to make sure that it was turning out as designed. For example, I’d loved the shallot and garlic linguine . . . once. The first time I had it, the shallots were roasted to caramelized perfection and the butter-cream sauce applied with a light touch. I had it a second time and the linguine was so over-sauced and rich that I could only eat a few bites.

When I returned recently, I ordered it again. While I’d hoped to recapture the first experience, I wound up reliving the second. A basic sausage and pepperoni pizza was just fine, as was the green salad. The more experimental “jerked chicken” calzone was weird; inside there was a peculiarly sweet sauce, lots of air, gobby cheese and chunks of chicken that at least were thoroughly cooked this time. Such findings would lead me to believe that the best meals are had here by sticking to the less eclectic, California-cuisine-y menu items. A too-sweet, weirdly textured strawberry mousse did not change my mind about the disappointing quality of the desserts. But the service is still pert and the prices are still low and, well, Noodles is still Noodles.

I tried to go back to Melange in Encino, which opened with a burst of enthusiasm. Melange over-spiced and overworked its food. By all appearances, Melange had gone out of business.