Delicious Fare Served With a Touch of Crass

You’ve got to hand it to Hans Prager. No one can say he’s just another fashion victim.

Still, there are those who call his restaurant, the Ritz, a mind-boggling anachronism, and they have a point. I mean, we’re talking about a gilt-edged dining room where the waitresses strut around in hot pants. An establishment where tasteful oils of nude women are intended to add a touch of class.

Prager couldn’t care less about the controversy. The girlie stuff is all part of his vision of luxury, and he’s not about to change it. Personally, I’d like to see a place like this open in New York City: It’s so unconsciously campy, it would probably be a huge hit.

It’s certainly doing well enough here. After nearly a decade on Fashion Island, this restaurant remains one of the toughest tables in town, with no sign of a slowdown. Pushing my way through the jampacked fin-de-siecle- style bar one Friday evening, I was nearly smothered by the crowd of well-dressed high-octane locals, all partying with a vengeance.

But as I stepped through the red curtains to the inner sanctum where these mandarins dine, things became unnaturally quiet. In the dining room, behavior is understated and genteel; no one speaks above a whisper. It’s as if the temple of gastronomy ambience caused everyone to have a spiritual episode.

Perhaps Prager is responsible for this magic. He’s a veteran of the halcyon days of our Continental restaurants, the ‘50s, when he worked as a chef in the legendary Scandia. The food served here is straight out of a time warp: lobster bisque, wilted spinach salad, steak Diane. You get the picture.

Or, if you don’t, you will when you step inside.

The main room, called the Escoffier, has the spirited look of an Oriental art museum, stuffed with Chinese lamps, Oriental rugs and antique vases. (Prager, a Viennese, was raised in Shanghai.) A portrait of Escoffier (fully clothed) hangs on one wall.

And what walls--gold-etched mirrors filled with the reflections of gaudy chandeliers! You sit on lurid, high-backed red velvet chairs or at black leather banquettes so shiny you can see your reflection in them. Double magnums of earthy red wines sit behind all the booths.

Service, as you might imagine, is crisp and professional. A beautiful captain took our order, and we couldn’t help but notice that her pants went all the way down to the ankles. (Moving from bar to dining room, you evidently graduate to long pants). Dishes are served handily from the cart, and the boss doesn’t tolerate any slip-ups.

Executive chef Guadelupe Camarena is a Prager protege, and he has been well schooled.

An appetizer called the Ritz carousel is something you have to experience at least once--you’ll never forget it. I really don’t know of another restaurant that still does anything like this. It’s an enormous lazy Susan overflowing with the luxury foods that we associate with a restaurant like the Ritz: lobster, crab, prawns, duck liver pate, red caviar, smoked trout, smoked salmon, pickled herring and appropriate sauces and garnishes.

Most of these items are fairly good, and you feel like royalty when you are eating them. The trick is to order the dish for two and then share it among four. Otherwise, the sheer quantity of it will make you feel like King Farouk.

There are lighter ways to begin a meal here, but somehow, they don’t feel right. The French onion soup au gratin is salty. Caesar of the Ritz is a noncommittal version of Caesar salad with a vague dressing over cold, crisp greens. And the lobster bisque tastes more of sherry than of lobster, a burnt-orange-colored soup with too much body and too little flavor.

But the entrees are dead center, many of them about as good as they have a right to be. A lunchtime special called Norwegian salmon pot-au-feu, served in a copper chafing dish, is very pleasant. It’s salmon that has been delicately poached with leek and root vegetables, and the fish is moist and flavorful. You can also order chicken from the rotisserie at lunch, and it too is moist and tasty.

At dinner, the menu becomes a parade of luxury items--abalone, lobster tail, rack of lamb--and duck takes the place of chicken on the rotisserie. Prager serves his duck Bavarian-style, roasted crisp over a compote of apples and prunes, and there is no better roast duck in all of Orange County.

The rack of lamb, also carved from the rotisserie, is excellent as well. It’s basted in its own juices and garnished with delicious fried parsley and good skillet-browned potatoes. It’s probably the most reliable dish on the menu, and you will get it exactly the way you like it.

On the other hand, getting fancy here is a recipe for trouble. One of my guests had a 1 1/2-pound Pacific lobster stuffed with deviled Dungeness crab and couldn’t taste the lobster for the heavy scent of mustard in the stuffing. I’ve also had my fill of the steak Diane here, a pan-broiled filet mignon in a rich brandy sauce, flamed at the table. Or as I had it, burned at the table.

Should any kind of mishap occur, though, you’ll be glad you are in a Hans Prager restaurant. The customer rules here, and that is the real secret of the man’s success. Unhappy with a dish? The kitchen will cheerfully substitute something else. Don’t like your wine? It will never appear on your check.

I’m not going to dwell on desserts such as the vaunted but floury chocolate souffle or the insipid selection of beautifully decorated, homemade pastries. In this restaurant, a glass of vintage port makes a more appropriate finish.

The Ritz is expensive. Appetizers and salads are $3.75 to $11. Entrees are $16.50 to $34.

* THE RITZ

* 880 Newport Center Drive, Newport Beach.

* (714) 720-1800.

* Open for lunch Monday through Friday from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m., for dinner Monday through Thursday from 6 to 10 p.m., Friday and Saturday from 5:30 to 11 p.m.

* All major cards accepted.