Grumbles Turn Into Grins at the Inn-Like Truffles

Some people like to eat alone. I don’t. So it was with a good deal of grumpiness that I found myself in an elevator going up to the third floor for a solitary meal at Truffles, 11355 W. Olympic Blvd., Los Angeles, (213) 477-0999. “What kind of restaurant is on the third floor of a modern office building, anyway?” I grumbled.

A pretty restaurant, is one answer. With soft yellow walls, chairs upholstered in a flowered print and chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, this looks like the dining room of a small inn.

One with a good chef--Elmer Azuma of Chabuya fame--is another. And, it must be added, one with an appealing menu. Everything I ate was wonderful. I started with flash-smoked black cod served on a bed of baby spinach and topped with a poached egg. I can’t remember a more delicious salad. I went on to lobster ravioli sumptuously topped with a bouquet of baby vegetables, and finished up with a scoop of chocolate mousse surrounded by four gleaming sauces arranged with the precision of stained glass.

The music was soft. The service was swell. In fact, eating at Truffles was so pleasant that I’d gladly go back there alone. On the other hand, this is one restaurant I can’t wait to share with my friends.