San Diego Spotlight : More Than a Name Change Is Needed at Bayside Eatery

A rose is a rose not only because it is a rose, but because it has no choice in the matter. It cannot open its petals one sunny morn and declare, “Today, I will be a dahlia.” In the world as it is, politicians alone seem capable of instantaneous transmogrification.

The former Papagayo at Seaport Village, never quite a rose even when it was in full bloom as a Mexican seafood restaurant, recently announced itself to be a blossom of a new hue--and in the process became a turnip of an eatery.

Because Italian cuisine now has perhaps a broader commercial appeal than any other type of cooking, Papagayo suddenly has become Ristorante Luigi al Mare, which sounds rather grand but translates as “Louis’ Restaurant by the Sea.” The tourists who probably will constitute the bulk of the clientele are unlikely to be interested by the name change, but they may well wonder why it seems so hard to get a fair shake at a restaurant so obviously designed with their patronage in mind.

Waterfront dining in this city actually has improved immensely in the last few years, and it is nothing less than exasperating to take a seat in so prime a location as Luigi’s--the view of the action on the bay is about as good as it gets--and grow increasingly aware that the price of admission has a great deal to do with that view, and very little with the issue of being fed well .

The menu is new, but the transition from Papagayo to Luigi al Mare otherwise seems not even skin deep; the decor, a little dated and in need of refurbishment, remains the same tropical motif that gave Papagayo a definite character but has nothing to do with Italy, San Diego or the sea. While the menu is reasonably inclusive, the cooking fails to follow through, and, given Luigi’s location and resources (the management operates two other large Seaport Village eateries), it seems fair to question whether the intention is to offer really good Italian fare or simply to cash in on a major trend.

Italian dishes do often vary somewhat from cook to cook, but many recipes follow fairly strict guidelines. Saltimbocca, for example, generally is understood to mean sauteed veal scallops topped with prosciutto, fresh sage leaves and a sauce made of the pan juices and Marsala. It’s simple, and terrific when brought straight from the stove to the table. Luigi al Mare instead made a sandwich of the veal, a little ham and and some (purportedly) Provolone cheese, dipped the package in a listless batter, cooked it to a gray finish and sent it out covered with tomato sauce. If a rose is a rose, saltimbocca is saltimbocca--so what was this?

A server one night enthusiastically pushed the “really excellent” special of osso buco , “served with a great Port sauce.” Since Port rarely appears in Italian cooking, and never in osso buco , the dish naturally begged to be sampled, and proved remarkable for the nearly complete absence of flavor. There was a faint taste of Port to the dry, overcooked veal shank, but that was it; none of the other traditional flavors were present. At $18.95, this dish should have borne more than a passing resemblance to osso buco as it is commonly understood.

Prices generally are not modest here, and soups and salads seem especially highly priced. The minestrone, watery and weak, was populated especially with chopped carrots and tasted mostly of these. The purported “wild mushroom cream soup,” for which the menu specifies porcini and “Parisian” mushrooms (Parisians, by the way, are the cultivated type we all buy in the supermarket produce section), had a gummy texture and the flavor of canned mushroom soup. The Caesar salad, heavily flavored with anchovies on one occasion, but not another, was good enough, but the plate of mixed fresh greens dressed simply with oil and Balsamic vinegar came off better, and was in fact impressive.

Other opening choices include shellfish plates, fried squid pieces, eggplant slices rolled around a cheese stuffing, a fairly standard antipasto plate and bruschetta , here interpreted as toasted bread slices piled high with a mixture of chopped tomatoes, garlic and basil. This is tasty enough, if messy, and unnecessary given the fact that the restaurant does serve loaves of excellent, crusty bread, with dishes of olive oil on the side for optional dipping.

The pastas, if not exactly sublime, may be the restaurant’s strongest suit. The gnocchi, or potato dumplings served in a trio of undistinguished sauces, are rather leaden, but there is a good, basic flavor to the good, basic angel hair with a tomato mixture like that used on the bruschetta . The meat ravioli, which nicely include a bit of Swiss chard in the stuffing, have a fairly savory flavor, and the tomato sauce is strong and bold. Better still, the seafood fettuccine benefits from a finely flavored cream sauce that incorporates bites and shreds of shrimp, scallops and crab.

Among formal entrees, the only item sampled that came off reasonably well was the sauteed swordfish steak; it had been sliced thinly, however, while a swordfish steak really should be at least an inch thick. Unsampled choices include the inevitable Australian lobster tail, paired if desired with a steak; spit-roasted chicken flavored with rosemary and lemon; boned lamb rolled around a stuffing of herbs and cheeses; shrimp in spicy “ fra diavolo “ tomato sauce, broiled Atlantic salmon and mussels in herbed tomato sauce.

At the close of the meal, the servers haul up an immense pastry tray laden with items that they will admit--only if asked--are not made on the premises. The sole house dessert is the ubiquitous tiramisu , or coffee and chocolate flavored pudding, which took the form of a sorry mess one evening but was agreeably light and frothy on a second occasion.

RISTORANTE LUIGI AL MARE 861 W. Harbor Drive, San Diego (Seaport Village) 232-7581 Lunch and dinner daily Pastas and entrees $10.95 to $32.50. Dinner for two, including a glass of wine each, tax and tip, about $35 to $85. Are credit cards accepted?