RESTAURANT REVIEW : Angel’s Still Testing Its Wings

When Angus Chamberlain first opened Cocola in an obscure loft-district location six years ago, it was hailed as a first, a haven for the downtown art crowd to eat decent food and drink until the early a.m.

Angel’s, the restaurant Chamberlain recently started and then promptly left after a few weeks (there was a disagreement with the building owner), is also in an art district--on Beverly Boulevard, amid the galleries and art furniture stores of decorators’ row.

After Chamberlain left, chef James Bucalo took over the day-to-day running of Angel’s. The decor, the food, “everything but the art on the walls,” says Bucalo, will remain the same.

The place has the feel of a cruise ship dining room. The walls are cool gray. The floor is a geometric pattern of darker grays. The windows are frosted. Lighting is low, dim. A long banquette swoops along a corner wall. An aquarium bubbles in the center of the room, roughly separating the bar from dining room. A large goldfish is responsible for the only color in sight. The longer I sit here, the more I feel tucked under a dove’s wing, or, I suppose, an angel’s.

But don’t expect to be transported. If this is a restaurant of angels, it is the grim chiaroscuro of “Wings of Desire” rather than the Technicolor of “Heaven Can Wait.” One yearns for more color and light.

I expected to encounter a westerly analogue to Cocola’s loft crowd, but found on a Saturday night that this unintimidating, moderately priced restaurant has attracted a diverse assemblage: older men in sweaters, a retro ‘60s couple, twentysomethings with the knees torn out of their jeans, women friends in around-the-house faded sweats.

The service is friendly and well-meaning, if clunky. The waiter is awkwardly familiar: “Good to see you guys. . . . Now, don’t fill up on bread before your dinner.”

The food seems caught between what the chef actually does quite well (shellfish, soups, filling entrees) and what, perhaps, he thinks he should offer (pizza, pasta, creme brulee ). There are also Cocola favorites: stand-up tacos (you can eat them standing up), roast chicken, whiskey-flavored desserts.

Delicious steamed mussels and clams are plump, fresh and served in a powerful, wine-spiked broth. Fried calamari is also exemplary, but the portion is tiny.

Every day, there’s a different hot soup and a cold soup. Corn chowder, a familiar soup-about-town routinely perfumed with tarragon, is further enhanced here with a dollop of red pepper puree. A chilled summer squash soup is fragrant, thick, subtle. Hot carrot-ginger soup, however, is bitter, uninteresting. The waiter, noticing I eat only a few spoonfuls, removes it from the bill.

Despite too many hard croutons, Bucalo’s Caesar has a lot of flavor. Another salad of peppery arugula is tempered with spinach, topped with corn and Parmesan cheese.

I had a hard time finding a pasta I wanted to try--seafood and vegetable pastas alike come in a thick marinara sauce. An exception, linguine with pesto and broccoli, consists of noodles merely flecked with basil and sprinkled with whole pine nuts: a tasteless travesty. Far better is the ravioli-of-the-day--on one day, a thin, won-ton-type noodle filled with mushrooms, served in a light wine sauce.

My pancetta and red pepper pizza has a boring crust. Too few chunks of pancetta are lost between gloppy melted cheese and thick red sauce.

The kitchen hits home, however, with its entrees: good, old fashioned square meals. Soy-marinated roast chicken, prettily browned, well-seasoned and juicy, comes with sauteed green beans and roast potatoes, a satisfying plate of food. A corn-and-cucumber salsa enlivens baked halibut.

A creme brulee is not properly finished; the sugar on top is unmelted, still grainy. Cheering us up, and adding a welcome, final flourish is the fresh fruit tart, strawberries and custard in a tasty shortbread crust.

If, as the room eloquently suggests, dining in this gray space is like being tucked into the downy clasp of an angel, the cherub in question is young, not quite used to his/her new wings. High hopes for a brighter future, however, are not entirely out of line.

* Angel’s, 7450 Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles, (213) 939-2466. Lunch Monday through Friday, dinner nightly. Beer and wine. Major credit cards. Dinner for two, food only, $20-$53.