RESTAURANTS / Max Jacobson : Top Reputation, a Fine Decor and Some Disappointing Food

Gustaf Anders comes to Santa Ana from La Jolla, where it received praise from nearly every critic (and customer) who walked in the door. I myself ate there, and immediately fell in love with the Scandinavian breads, gravad lax and wonderfully elegant sauces turned out by chef Ulf (Anders) Strandberg, who started the restaurant with Bill (Gustaf) Magnuson, who also serves as the restaurant’s maitre d’.

When the rent on the pair’s La Jolla space got too high to handle, Strandberg and Magnuson decided the time was right to make a move. Early this spring, they reappeared in a new location--South Coast Plaza Village--hotly anticipated and full of promise. Today, the restaurant appears to be in difficulty. The crowds have not come, and the critics have not raved.

I had few complaints about my first visit, but little impressed me as before, and service was virtually non-existent. It was a sleepy Sunday night. Maitre d’ Magnuson had the night off.

The restaurant was virtually empty. We sat in a corner of the spare, beautifully designed room, admiring the spacious decor, the stunning lead wall sculptures by Michael Golino, the rustic wooden rafters that recall an Ingmar Bergmanesque summer cottage. It was wonderfully quiet; as peaceful as a Swedish lake in deepest summer.

After what seemed an eternity, a basket of breads appeared, the same good breads I remembered: brown crispbread, thick-sliced limpa (a Swedish brown bread), whole grain rolls and Italian country white. We slathered them with sweet butter and sipped Chardonnay contentedly.

As before, the gravad lax was excellent; buttery raw salmon cured with dill, it is the closest thing Europe has to sashimi. An imaginative plate of sweet-sour onions with truffles was delightful--rich, pungent and soft enough to be spread on slices of Italian country bread served alongside. Parsley salad ordered with it was merely acceptable, a chopped version full of vinegar like a Middle Eastern tabbouleh sans wheat.

But after the appetizers, we languished while a moribund kitchen prepared our main courses, with no one coming to our table to offer condolences. What finally did come out was unimpressive. Rabbit livers were too sharp in flavor and were so rich that a few bites seemed excessive. What’s more, the roasted potato on the plate had been saturated with oil. The house duck was better, a roasted breast and thigh served warm on a salad-like garnish of shredded cabbage and onion, fancied up with a duck confit. But it was not something I would order a second time. And when I left the restaurant, I was not even sure I would come back.

I did, though, and enjoyed what I ate, even if it was rarely what the menu advertised. I came expecting spotty and unconventional service, and that is exactly what I got. It seemed as if every member of the staff served our table at different times, and when I asked why, one rolled his eyes and said, “Total disorganization.”

It was another quiet evening in the restaurant, and I wondered when the crowd would arrive. It never did. We nibbled on dishes from the bar menu, a wonderful smoked-fish salad with trout, sturgeon and eel on mixed greens in a light dressing, and an uninspired dish of Parmesan with olives and pickled peppers, featuring chunks of a flavorless Reggiano Parmesan large enough to break plate-glass windows. What happened after that was indeed strange.

The next three dishes ordered were unlike their descriptions. First, a smoked salmon arrived, minus the avocado and golden caviar it was supposed to have. Luckily, the fish was delicious; so good my wife gobbled it up before I could complain. But then, a naked plate of duck foie gras surprised us, stripped of the garlic confit and mixed greens that the menu had promised. I just had to say something.

The captain was summoned and he apologized profusely, telling us to keep the dish, and he eventually brought us a second dish done properly. The foie gras here, incidentally, is about as good as any I have had in this country--creamy, bursting with flavor, and mysteriously intrigued with clove, a Scandinavian touch I approve of.

We also sent back our final dish, a lamb sandwich with sun dried tomatoes and goat cheese that was supposed to be served on Italian country bread. But the kitchen prepared it on limpa bread, in my opinion, an unappetizing substitute. (They had, according to the waiter, run out.) Chef Strandberg, I subsequently was told, had the night off.

Perhaps these deficiencies explain why the restaurant was bone empty on a Friday night, when I went back for my final visit. This time, Magnuson greeted us at the door, and I had hopes that things would finally gel. Instead, they virtually disintegrated.

I believe the pianist, who did a poor imitation of Jerry Lee Lewis (actually walking around to tables singing “Great Balls of Fire” a cappella) kept any walk-ins from strolling in. The food that evening wasn’t much better although service was for once polished and relaxed.

After a so-so, in-house pickled herring served with frozen akvavit (the subtly flavored, amber-colored Linea akvavit was the evening’s highlight), and an unmemorable smoked eel and scrambled eggs on toast, I experienced two of the most disappointing main dishes I can remember.

The first was sweetbreads with fettuccine, deep fried and crunchy, tasteless hunks of a battered substance that had no discernible character beyond texture. Then came an array of seafood, gaudily priced at $37. This was a silver pedestal topped with lobster, crab, oysters, mussels and prawns, arranged like a Carmen Miranda hat. None of the seafoods tasted particularly fresh, a sad fact that could not be masked by the insipid sauces alongside.

All of which leads one to ask: What is going on here? There is some serious cooking being done in this restaurant, beautiful decor, a reputation to uphold, an investment to protect. This restaurant still has the promise to be one of the very best in Orange County. At the moment, I’m afraid, it is a promise that is a long way from being fulfilled.

Gustaf Anders is expensive. Appetizers are $4.50 to $46 for Beluga caviar. Main courses are $17 to $37. The bar menu features dishes from $5 to $12. Good desserts, made by Piret’s of San Diego, are $5.

GUSTAF ANDERS

3610 S. Plaza Drive, South Coast Plaza Village, Santa Ana

(714) 668-1737

Open daily from 11:30 a.m. to midnight

All major cards accepted