Jewel of the Valley

It wasn’t as though Herb Piken wanted to build a bordello in a high school gymnasium.

What he had in mind was constructing a $15-million upscale shopping center in Studio City, the jewel of which would be a world-class Bistro Garden restaurant.

Piken figured there weren’t too many hubs of elegance in the San Fernando Valley and folks might appreciate dining on something other than Big Macs and Papa Tony’s pasta.

So when he announced plans for a restaurant to rival anything in L.A., old Herb expected hugs and angel kisses. What he got were teeth marks on his behind.

A handful of residents, urged on by community activists who feed on building contractors, turned a sunny idea into a nightmare of protest.

They warned that the opening of the Bistro would transform the quiet neighborhood around it into a scene of Bacchanalian chaos.

They envisioned loutish millionaires in cashmere suits staggering around Van Noord Avenue and tearing through their rose gardens in high-powered German cars that run over puppy dogs and old ladies.

They could see naked starlets running down Dickens Street pursued by aging movie moguls, and drooling rock stars craving New Wave sex with neighborhood housewives in gingham dresses.

Who knows what lust and savagery the presence of a fancy restaurant might cause in a God-fearing suburban neighborhood?

One woman suggested it might even lead to . . . public urination by the insolent rich!

Oh, my.

Well, everybody stay calm.

The Bistro Garden has been open for a month now and to the best of my knowledge the neighborhood has not witnessed a proliferation of drunks, sexual misconduct or other forms of public crudity.

No one, for instance, has come forward with actual incidents of scatological outrage either related to or unrelated to the opening of the restaurant.

As one proponent of the Bistro said to me, “People like Swifty Lazar do not urinate in public.” Then he added thoughtfully, “I don’t know if he urinates at all.”

Lazar, a Beverly Hills super-agent and party-giver par excellence, is one of many Westside celebrities who have put aside a natural aversion to the Valley in order to try the Studio City Bistro.

Many have been habitues of the 25-year-old counterpart in Beverly Hills, whose haute cuisine has also attracted presidents of the United States, foreign dignitaries and people so rich their cars cost more than your house.

They, along with various restaurant critics, give the new jewel of the Valley high marks for both food and ambience.

Owner Kurt Niklas, who at one point was ready to abandon the whole project and “cede the Valley to Burger King,” is delighted that his place is open and almost always filled to capacity.

Piken is equally pleased, and considers the Valley Bistro a kind of monument to himself, even though it cost a couple million more than he had anticipated, due to delays brought on by the protests.

But now, I hear you say, the deed is done and everyone’s happy, right? Wrong.

Good activists never give up. They are gadflies from hell.

At least three of those who opposed the Bistro are still less than elated. They’re not only unhappy with the restaurant but with what’s likely to happen when other facilities in the shopping center are occupied.

Eileen Kenyon, for one, complains that even if the Bistro’s patrons are rich, they’re too cheap to pay for valet parking and are clogging the side streets with their fancy-dancy cars.

She also wonders what the hell happened to trees that Piken was supposed to plant that would screen the center’s parking lot from adjacent homes.

“He put in oleander bushes that are ugly and dirty,” she said the other day in a tone of high indignation. “They’re only eight feet high. I’ll be dead by the time they grow into screen trees.”

One neighbor who opposed the Bistro tried it at a friend’s insistence and had the misfortune of pulling up to the building just as Piken’s son, Bob, was coming out.

“He called me a hypocrite and some other things,” she said, “and pounded on my friend’s $80,000 Mercedes. I was thunderstruck!”

The woman overcame her shock long enough to dine at the Bistro anyhow, because “no one is going to chase me out of any place I want to be.”

It seemed inappropriate to ask if she liked the food.

Confrontations aside, it’s probably about time both sides sheathed their swords, and their sons. The Bistro is there to stay, and I’m glad.

While poitrine de veau may never replace pepperoni pizza as the food of choice in the San Fernando Valley, it’s sure a bite in the right direction.