Throwing Tomatoes : Italy’s Bice arrives to conquer L.A.

Pomodoro by Bice, 133 N. La Cienega Blvd. , Beverly Hills. (213) 652-7666. Open Monday-Saturday 11:30 a.m.-midnight (until 1 a.m. Fri.-Sat.); Sunday 5 p.m.-11 p.m. Full bar. Valet parking. All major credit cards accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $40-$60.

I am looking down at a large plate of grilled vegetables. They are pale and thin, and have had such a brief brush with the grill that they are more raw than cooked. And what are these little things sitting on top of the tomatoes? Sliced almonds?

Roberto Ruggeri ought to know better. His family owns the much-acclaimed Bice restaurants in Milan, Sardinia and New York.

Adam Tihany ought to know better, too. He has designed some of New York’s loveliest restaurants, including Bice, Huberts and Remi.

But somehow they have taken all their expertise and talent, spent what must have been a great deal of money and given us . . . an Italian restaurant that serves sliced almonds on top of its tomatoes. And this in a restaurant that calls itself Pomodoro.

Tihany has obviously labored hard to make this space look unlike the former occupant, Bistango. But the effect is sort of Bistango in tomato sauce, a silly space filled with pyramid lights, Eurostyle chairs and tomatoes everywhere they can possibly perch. There are big, round, red lights up there, tomato cans displayed as art over here. It is the visual equivalent of a nervous laugh: The overall effect strives for fun, but it works just a little too hard.

The restaurant itself, on the other hand, doesn’t work hard enough. The service is charming but slapdash; not once in the course of four visits has a waiter even attempted to remember who ordered what. On one visit, two entrees arrive a full 10 minutes before the other two. On another visit the tomatoes arrive without sliced almonds, but there is a tiny piece of wire in the spinach. At no time does any waiter bother to ask if there is something wrong with the dishes we don’t eat. The waiters smile a lot and compliment you on your choices (“Oh, a very good wine, that Pinot Grigio from Felluga”), but they seem to think that being Italian is enough.

The menu, which the press release touts as innovative, seems to think the same. The waiters roll the words off their tongues with pride, offering carpaccio as if it were an exotic dish that they are introducing for the very first time. There are seven variations served here, none particularly memorable. The one with artichoke and Parmesan boasts good cheese and a blizzard of artichoke shavings that are so thin and so soaked in lemon that all character has disappeared. The warm carpaccio is actually cooked carpaccio , a clear contradiction of terms that is best left to its own devices.

The crostini sound slightly exotic--but they are no more than large, thin slices of Italian bread topped with cheese and various other ingredients and baked until the cheese melts. I’d pass. The pizzas are better--quite good, actually--but certainly nothing to get excited about here in the land of the designer pie.

The restaurant does best with pasta--provided you order the right ones. The tortelloni, for instance, fat pillows of ricotta and spinach in a sage-spiked cream sauce. Or fettuccine in a respectable meat sauce. Or a thick and tasty minestrone. The pesto that comes on the fusilli, on the other hand, manages the difficult feat of rendering basil and garlic almost flavorless. And any Italian chef should be ashamed of these risotti: One night there was a seafood version that was nothing more than soggy rice topped with rubbery seafood.

Was the waiter trying to tell me something when he arrived with breaded veal cutlet and asked, “Who gets the chicken?” Probably not; it was a lot better than the tagliata al rosmarino-- stiff slices of steak and a couple of not quite adequately roasted potatoes surrounding a very stemmy pile of spinach. I liked it better than a thin slice of swordfish, too, although if the fish had been a little bit thicker it would have been quite good. I even liked it better than that roast veal special that the waiter touted so highly; if roast veal is what you’re after, go to Madeo, spend a little bit more and get a dish you that will really make you happy.

I’d recommend going elsewhere for dessert as well. The tiramisu and tarte tatin are not particularly enticing, and if gelato is what you’re after, you’d be well advised to move up the street to Pazzia for your final course. If you really want to stay put, the ricotta cheesecake is a respectable choice.

There’s a lot that’s respectable about this restaurant, and the price is certainly right. Still, you can’t help being disappointed that a place with such a prestigious pedigree isn’t any better. Perhaps they’re saving the right stuff for the autumn opening of Bice in Beverly Hills. I hope so.

Recommended dishes: Pizza Margherita $8; insalata primavera, $5; tortelloni, $10.