Old-Style French Fare at Le Chene

Everyone loves a romantic country restaurant, one of those bonnes auberges found near ski resorts or desolate stretches of coastline.

But you don’t have to stray all that far from Los Angeles to find such a place. Up here on Sierra Highway in Canyon Country, you can smell the sagebrush and the desert, an earthy, invigorating scent with almost hypnotic appeal. Le Chene is less than 10 miles up from the Antelope Valley Freeway, but you’d never know it. It’s a large, primal stone house with a lofty pine ceiling and it reminds you of one of those grand lodges in the Yosemite Valley.

The restaurant has been completely remodeled and extended during the past year. The cavernous main dining room is almost disarmingly simple now, with uncomfortable bridge party-type chairs and tables draped in blue cloth and topped with paper place mats. The bare-bones elegance doesn’t seem to deter the masses, though. One Saturday evening there was a line out the door, with more than an hour wait for seating.

That must be some kind of tribute to Lyonnais chef Christian Laire’s French cooking, old-style comfort fare as earthy as the desert brush itself. Laire’s lengthy blackboard menu is crowded with dishes that have all but disappeared from French restaurants in big cities. There are fricassees and Thermidors and dishes named for Escoffier, as well as a long list of old chestnuts such as sand dabs Veronique, beef Burgundy and frog legs Provencale.

Dinner begins with a basket of great crusty white bread, perfect for slathering with sweet butter. Appetizers are often big enough for entire meals. It’s chilly up here in the desert, and you’ll need the sustenance.

The favorite in our group was salmon dumpling--known as quenelles to Julia Child and the French. The dumpling itself is light and fluffy, made from spoon-molded ground salmon mixed with egg white, but the dish is not. The veloute sauce atop is so thick and buttery a spoon would stand up in it.

Escargot ravioli is one of the only “modern” appetizers here. It’s actually an entire casserole dish full of small pasta pockets, each stuffed with an individual snail. Tongue vinaigrette is probably my favorite. This is a classic French bistro dish, served cold. The meat is soft and the creamy vinegar sauce on top has an assertive bite to it.

Main dishes come with a choice of soup or salad, as they did in the French restaurants of yesteryear. Salad is ordinary, with a simple vinaigrette dressing as the only option. Soups, however, provide plenty of warmth, thick potages that really stick to the ribs. Laire’s cabbage soup is velvet-smooth and richly flavored. The French onion is beefy and salty, with a bubbly cheese crust.

I wonder how long it takes for the staff to write up these blackboard menus. There must be 40 main courses in all, neatly printed onto what looks like almost a dozen blackboards.

It may take you as long to decide what to order. There is a mind-boggling selection here, with only one common thread. None of these dishes could be categorized as nouvelle cuisine.

One of the women in our group decided she just couldn’t live without the lobster Thermidor , at $27.95 the most expensive item on the board. It’s a whole, fresh Atlantic lobster, split and shelled. The lobster meat is then chopped, mixed with cream, sherry and cheese and baked in the shell. Apart from being one of the richest dishes anywhere, it’s also one of the most delicious.

Next best thing we tasted would be lamb grandmere, or lamb grandmother style. It’s one of Laire’s most rustic dishes, consisting of cubed lamb in a rich brown sauce with braised mushrooms, the kind of dish you can find in any rural French relais. Sand dabs Veronique are a simple saute of flour-dredged fish, white wine and whole grapes. I couldn’t help thinking that the dish looked a little silly; the grape garnish looks almost cartoonish in this day and age. Anyway, it is tasty enough.

Some of this stuff is a trifle too rich, though, without giving you much in return. Shrimp Escoffier come in a gluey sherry cream sauce, and duck pappardelle, despite the good topping of braised duck meat in rich brown sauce, falls flat because of the sticky, starchy noodles on which it is served.

Most of these dishes are garnished with a spinach-stuffed, cheese-topped artichoke bottom and a glutinous carrot puree. If that doesn’t do you in, then the desserts surely will, an uninteresting lot of rich, creamy standbys.

Delice a l’orange is a frozen orange cream sitting in a pool of insipid chocolate sauce. Strawberry feuillete is like a cafeteria strawberry shortcake with puff pastry substituting for the biscuit. Both of these desserts suffer further from the mound of aerosol whipped cream obscuring them. The best way to finish a meal here is with a strong cup of coffee followed by a whiff of that refreshing desert air. The drive back is going to feel a lot longer than the drive up.

Suggested dishes: tongue vinaigrette, $4.75; escargot ravioli, $8.95; lobster Thermidor, $27.95; lamb grandmere, $15.

Le Chene, 12625 W. Sierra Highway, Saugus, (805) 251-4315. Dinner 5:30-10 p.m. nightly. Full bar. Parking lot. All major cards. Dinner for two, $50-$85.