RESTAURANT REVIEW : Trattoria Overcomes Surroundings

A friend of mine, when he returned from Italy, kept talking about la bella figura --how the women in Italy carry themselves so well and are so beautiful. “It’s funny, because when you get up close, and really look at their individual features, you might see certain imperfections,” he said. “But they have a way of pulling themselves together with such style and self-esteem that the overall effect is lovely. In the long run, their good looks have little to do with externals--it’s clearly an inside job.”

Much the same could be said about the new little Bertuccia Trattoria. It has such a pleasant atmosphere, the service is so engaged and engaging, and the food is so reliably good that one can eat whole meals there impervious to the fact that it’s a little mini-mall restaurant full of fake potted palms and dust-catching bric-a-brac. The place has a soul that is purely Italian.

On my first visit, we sat on hard little bistro chairs at occasionally wobbly tables under a buzzing neon sign. We looked out at the intersection with its mix of pedestrians, cars and policemen on horseback. We were given a hunk of crusty sourdough bread and the view became downright scenic.

The decision-making process seemed more difficult that usual: Everything on the one-page menu appealed to us. We were not disappointed with our choices. The carpaccio was simple, the way I like it, just meat, a few leaves of arugula, shaved Parmesan, good olive oil. The antipasto della Bertuccia was a small bowl of spicy and wonderful cannellini beans.

The pastas filled sizable bowls. A good, smoky pancetta enlivened the carbonara, and the large ravioli, simply sauced with butter and sage, came filled with well-spiced meat. We loved the Bertuccia pizza, a study in simplicity--good, thin crust, lightly topped with arugula, bresaola and Parmesan.

Behind us, there was one big table speaking almost exclusively Italian, and another table of Italians near the front door. At one point, the hostess changed the music and put on “O Sole Mio.” As the opening notes crescendoed, my own eyes filled with tears and within moments, the two large tables of Italian people began roaring along to the song in an inarticulate, empathic bawling, a sound of pure emotion simultaneously expressing acute pleasure and pain.

One Friday night, three of us arrived at the restaurant, our appetites huge. We ordered appetizers, which were soon spread before us like a feast. A pile of calamari fritti were crunchy, spicy and served with a compelling fresh tomato sauce and fresh lemon. The Caesar salad was the best Caesar I’ve had in months. Sapori Italiani was a pretty plate with prosciutto, salami, bresaola , olives, some peppery roasted eggplant and sweet roasted red peppers. One friend became so nostalgic for her last trip to Italy that one more time I had to hear the story about the best day in her life, when she was runner-up in the Bedonia Beer Queen contest near Parma. She lost to a local favorite. “I could have been queen,” she said with a sigh.

We liked the night’s pasta special, linguine with lobster and arugula with a subtle and pleasing lobster sauce. The risotto with four cheeses (five when we added Parmesan) was fascinating because your really could taste the different cheeses, but it also was amazingly rich. The trout special, a pretty, firm-but-juicy filet, was all but submerged in a sea of fragrant rosemary potatoes. It might have been nice to have had fewer potatoes and perhaps a little green vegetable. Still, if all mothers cooked food this well, nobody would ever move away from home.

The only truly disappointing item we tried was the tiramisu , which was mostly ladyfingers that had been glued together with a meager amount of overly sweetened mascarpone cheese and whipped cream.

Bertuccia Trattoria makes having a good neighborhood restaurant look deceptively easy. Certainly enough restaurant owners aspire to the Bertuccia model: They build trendy spaces, work out their recipes in a test kitchen, hire the brightest young help available. But few have Bertuccia Trattoria’s quality, confidence and spirited personality. The making of a good little restaurant really is an inside job.

Bertuccia Trattoria, 8151-B Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood, (213) 654-1919. Lunch Monday through Friday, dinner Monday through Saturday. American Express, MasterCard and Visa accepted. Beer and wine license pending. Parking. Dinner for two, food only, $26-$47.