RESTAURANT REVIEW : Frustrations, Pleasures Lurk at Cool Bamboo

Bamboo in Sherman Oaks is an elegant, mid-priced, comfortable new restaurant with a fresh take on Mandarin cuisine. What more, one might ask, can one want? Oh, a few things, as it happens, but I’ll get to them in time. No hurry, since there’s so much about Bamboo to like.

There’s the exterior, with its playful tropical neon and the heavy glass door etched with bamboo. Walking inside, into the glow of cool blue and rosy lights, one feels slightly submerged, inducted into another world, transported well away from Ventura Boulevard. We’re greeted warmly, seated; instantaneously, ice water, hot tea and menus appear.

Bamboo blends the young, the hip and the designed with more familiar elements of Chinese restaurant decor; it’s spare and cool, with glass brick, geometrical architectural flourishes, original art. There are also tasteful Chinese objets d’art and a very swank designer aquarium. This is no clattery, hip bistro, but a pleasant, pretty spot to dine.

The menu’s long and large, and while we perused it, three different waiters offered to take our orders, two of whom recited the specials: jumbo shrimp and special diet plates. We had to ask the prices and were glad we did: The jumbo shrimp is $24.95, more expensive than anything else on the menu.

Every time we took a sip from our water, a busboy refilled it. We ordered. Promptly a bowl of assorted won ton soup materialized. It’s delicious, clear, with spinach so freshly cooked it’s still crunchy; the won ton are sausage-filled and tasty, the shrimp are tender and fresh. Kate and I ate quickly, and our bowls were gone. Laurie, who had been talking, was the only one eating, which she tried to do quickly, and then more quickly because, every few seconds, a busboy swerved in for her bowl. When the fourth one came at her, she, to her own amazement, hit the table sharply with her fingers, the way you’d scare off a bold bird or cat who was stalking your sandwich. It works: The busboy hung back, but seconds later, another swooped in and Laurie, still mortified by her own instinctive, defensive gesture, let him snag her bowl.

When all the main courses were on the table, the servers stopped by one after another--all the servers and busboys and managers on the floor. “Is everything all right?” they asked. (One night, six people asked us this question a total of nine times.) Meanwhile, our waters were continually topped off. We were interrupted so relentlessly, Kate said, “I’m getting to where I’m afraid to start a sentence.” At first we said, “It’s fine, very good.” Then, “Fine, thanks.” Then “Very good.” Then we nodded. Barely nodded. Grunted.

Finally, I said to one waiter, “As a matter of fact, I was a little disappointed in this.” I point to the jade chicken, which was described on the menu as “Marinated Chicken Strips Sauteed and Smothered in Seasonal Greens.” It showed up on the table as marinated chicken framed by broccoli flowerets. My disappointment was exacerbated by the fact that, while I love most greens, I dislike broccoli. I nudged a floweret. “These are not greens and this is not smothered,” I said. The waiter was not proficient in English. I spent the next five minutes defining “greens” and trying to make it clear that I did not want him to exchange the dish or take any action, but that I simply was answering the question “Is everything all right?” which had been asked so persistently that I had finally taken it seriously. Ultimately, the waiter said, “Next time, when you order this dish, tell the chef that you want greens.”

When the next service person asked, “Is everything all right,” we didn’t even look at him. “It’s obvious they don’t want an answer, that they’re just fishing for compliments,” said Kate.

Still, I like Bamboo. It takes time to explore Bamboo’s extensive menu, though. Almost everything we ordered from the first page under Bamboo Specialties, for instance, was a disappointment: hot braised scallops (“Sauteed with Chef’s Special Ginger Sauce”) have been battered, fried until dry and sauced with a very sweet sweet-and-sour red sauce. The bamboo beef tasted like one of those deep-fried tenderloin sandwiches you get at county fairs, only coated with sugar syrup. “It’s like eating candy with meat in the center,” Kate said.

On the other hand, most of our “non-special” selections from further on in the menu were not only less pricey, but considerably more authentic and wonderful. Sliced chicken in garlic sauce comes in an outrageously tasty, garlicky, hot sauce with perfectly sauteed wild mushrooms, red peppers and onions. The pan-fried house special noodles have a great texture: chewy and crunchy and delicious with savory chunks of pork and chicken and vegetables. A Chinese cabbage in cream sauce is one of the most comforting dishes I’ve ever had; well-doused with some of the table’s white pepper and salted a bit, it will give you all the satisfaction of having just had a good cry with none of the bleariness of eye.

One night, when we were done eating, and our plates were cleared and our leftovers meticulously packed, we just stayed put and talked. There was nothing more the waiters could do for us or ask us, so we were left alone and found ourselves so relaxed and satisfied and comfortable under those cool aquarium-colored lights, we were loath to move. A good meal, good friends, a good place to sit--what more could we want? As it happens, a few things: more privacy at the table, a more reliable menu, otherwise not much.

Recommended dishes: assorted won ton soup, $4.50; sliced chicken in garlic sauce, $7.95; Chinese cabbage in cream sauce, $5.95; house special noodles, $7.25.

Bamboo, 14010 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks. (818) 788-0202. Lunch is served from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. Monday through Friday. Dinner served from 3 to 10:30 p.m. Monday through Friday, and from 11:30 a.m. to 11 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. MasterCard and Visa accepted (American Express pending). Beer and wine. Parking available behind restaurant. Dinner for two, food only, $18 to $45.