RESTAURANTS : THE RIGHT THING : Hollywood Nostalgia, a Hungarian Heritage and Schnitzel, All in Beverly Hills

Boy, did I order the right thing, I was thinking. Just then, a woman at the next table looked at my plate of braised short ribs, leaned over and said with undisguised envy: “You ordered the right thing!”

This happens a lot at the Players, partly because the customers are on the gregarious side for Beverly Hills, partly because they have definite tastes in food and partly because when tables are arranged this close, nobody’s order is exactly a big secret.

Is it a cramped room? Well, you could call it cozy. The crowded tables and the low ceiling give the Players the warm Middle European air of a place designed for huddling together against the weather--but instead of bitter Transylvanian nights outside, there’s sidewalk dining on Little Santa Monica Boulevard.

Some of the customers may consider it cozy because they remember the Players’ predecessor, Mama Weiss’s, a Hungarian restaurant that was operated by the same family in Beverly Hills during the ‘30s and ‘40s, back when there were houses and bungalow courts on Rodeo Drive. Mama Weiss’s was a haven for European refugees, particularly those in the film business. The Players’ walls sport rare autographs from Mama Weiss’s, like the napkin on which actress Ilona Massey wrote, “Marvelous place!” in Hungarian.

But no matter how much nostalgia the Players can claim, it’s not just a Hollywood hangout. There aren’t enough Old Hollywood people to keep this place as crowded as it gets. Here’s one of its secrets: Most of the entrees are well on the cozy side of $15.

In addition to a “heritage menu” of Hungarian dishes, chef Keith Roberts also makes ‘90s vernacular dishes such as seared ahi tuna salad and linguine with sun-dried tomatoes and chicken, even a “grilled vegie plate.” Some of his specials reach well beyond the vernacular level, too. He sears Arctic char, a delicate member of the salmon family, and serves it on spinach with lemon butter. His marinated lobster salad, on a bed of couscous with a relish of sweet white corn kernels, amounts to a new dimension in chopped salads.

The cold beet borscht seems somehow Californian--served in a goblet, it looks like punch, and in a sense it is. The pink broth is a little sweeter than usual, even with the sour cream that’s blended in, and I have actually found a raspberry floating in it. Some might not consider that a real borscht, but I’d probably take it over whatever you want to call authentic borscht, and I’d definitely take it over the roasted-garlic-mushroom-barley soup, which can’t live up to its impressive name.

Among the other appetizers, the meat blintzes, though pleasant, resemble large fried won tons served in a gravy of meat glaze and tomato paste. Smoked salmon gets the elegant treatment, though: toast points, chopped onion, capers and a cucumber salad--not the usual sweet Scandinavian cucumber salad but one that’s dressed in oil and flavored with cumin, giving it a Moroccan effect. The kitchen uses a light beer batter on its calamari fritti. But an unusual batter containing sun-dried tomatoes coats the vegetables and scallops (this is the explanation for the disturbing name “sun-dried scallops”). You’d be hard put to detect a tomato flavor in it, but the batter cooks up very brown, with a pleasant, elusive Chinese flavor.

The braised short ribs tower above the rest of the heritage menu entrees. They are impressive: a dark-brown slab in dark-red wine sauce with a hint of herbs. Chemically speaking, the flavor we like so much in foods when they’re cooked brown comes from chemicals called pyrazines, and this dish is pyrazine heaven. On the side come yellow slices of parsnip, that delicate, neglected cousin of the carrot, and a barley pilaf topped with fried onions to add even more pyrazines to the mix.

The rest of the heritage menu leans somewhat to veal: very white veal sausages, served with mustard, sweet-and-sour red cabbage and excellent roasted rosemary potatoes; the Vienna schnitzel, not the thinnest ever, but with a good, light veal flavor, and the Players’ veal goulash, rather like paprikash in its understated sauce of sour cream and onion, spiked with hot paprika.

Roast duck is garnished with stewed apples, braised red cabbage and roasted potatoes--and sometimes a bit of unannounced Japanese kabocha squash cooked in syrup. Rack of lamb, flavored with garlic and chives, comes with another of those barley pilafs. Braided orange roughy--that’s braided, not breaded--consists of plaited strips of fish, sprinkled with savory and (surprise) lavender. The fish is wonderfully plush, and the herbs are surprisingly appropriate.

Roughy is not from the heritage menu, but it comes with an old-country millet pilaf. Millet is a challenging grain because of its starchy, sludgy texture and hint of bitterness, but this kitchen makes it palatable. An unusual side dish is a mixture of spinach and red chard with garlic; it’s also available as an appetizer with the addition of roasted garlic, olive oil, red pepper and Parmesan.

The Players knows what you want for dessert: You want chocolate cake topped with candied tangerine slices, or tarte tatin (they get the apples properly caramelized here). But don’t neglect the classic poppy-seed bundt cake or the blueberry crumb cake--very tall (about three inches) and very crumbly, the top layer being essentially a big butter cookie.

Most of all, don’t rule out the almond torte. It’s really a light, spongy cake, not a dry, stiff tart, and it is intriguingly topped with hot caramel sauce and warm peach coulis. Take my word, it’s the right thing.

The Players, 9513 Little Santa Monica Blvd., Beverly Hills; (310) 278-6669. Lunch served Monday through Saturday, dinner daily; Sunday brunch. Full bar. Parking on the street and in the public lot behind the restaurant. Major credit cards accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $33-$58.