STYLE / RESTAURANTS : SOMETHING FAMILIAR

It sounds as if Carson’s has come up with a Beverly Hills restaurant concept that has all the right elements. It’s got Joseph Stellini (of the now-closed Stellini’s) at the front door, the old Mortons former chef in the kitchen and a bevy of good-looking waiters in blue denim work shirts and fresh white tennis shoes throughout. Steering clear of the trend for all things Italian, Carson’s describes itself as an “American grill with California influences.” Which is to say safe, familiar food with the occasional foray into more exotic realms. And in this case, it’s a mixed blessing.

I like the restaurant’s sleek good looks. To the left is a small bar, where long-legged young women slip off their black Prada backpacks to sip Chardonnay or Evian. The dining room is spare and attractive with its wood-framed windows, pale blond cafe chairs and wheat-clothed tables. An enormous marble sculpture that recalls a bird with wings outstretched is mounted on the back wall. This room may be easy on the eyes, but not so much on the ears. If you want to converse comfortably, plan on coming on a weeknight. It can be hard to hear even when the room is less than full.

I’m here with three others. As we wait for our first courses, we end up eating an entire basket of dense, fine-textured bread. Oysters, generally Fanny Bay, are fresh and cool, served with a thimble of balsamic mignonette. Crab cakes are packed with flaky crab meat. Steamed artichoke (served hot or cold) is waterlogged, and the accompanying aioli doesn’t have enough garlic to merit the name. Four of us couldn’t or wouldn’t finish it. But everybody wants some of the emerald grilled asparagus napped with a whole-grain mustard sauce.

Chef Michael Shaheen last cooked at Mortons before it moved. And he does just fine with straightforward California cuisine: salads, grilled meats and poultry. Heaped baby greens edged with sweet, pan-seared scallops is simple and good but hardly a showy dish. Maybe that’s why it’s off the menu. Farm-raised salmon is grilled medium-rare, translucent at the center, paired with an earthy spinach-potato puree and a deeply colored Cabernet-black peppercorn sauce. Nineties comfort food.

One night, there’s a piece of striped bass on a bed of sharp, prickly baby mustard greens garnished with a tropical mango relish. I like the rack of Colorado lamb, too, for its intense lamb taste and deft rosemary-infused Chardonnay sauce (as good a use as any for over-oaked wines). Prime New York steak is fine, too. So you’d think a Porterhouse, 22 ounces at $35, would be as tasty. It is completely unexceptional. But it is a piece of meat that may be just large enough to tickle the appetite of Green Bay Packer defensive end/stockbroker Sean Jones, an investor in the restaurant.

The few pasta dishes are unexpectedly restrained for a California restaurant, unencumbered by too many ingredients. The best is the penne dressed simply with broccoli rabe, good olive oil, hot pepper flakes and Parmesan shavings. The seafood risotto, on the other hand, is barely tepid, oversalted and incredibly overcooked, more seafood porridge than risotto.

It’s when things get more creative that the kitchen gets into trouble. Little glossy black Prince Edward Island mussels tossed with black beans and a confetti of bright peppers are set on a wiry black-and-gold noodle mat. Mine is scorched on the bottom. Even if it wasn’t, the delicate taste and texture of these prized mollusks don’t stand a chance against the searing bitter chiles. And what a bad idea to drizzle “truffle oil vinaigrette” over a chilled salad of hearts of palm, asparagus, new potatoes and artichoke hearts. You might as well douse it in perfumed hair tonic. Truffle-infused oil is best on warm pasta or risotto so that the heat brings out its fragrance.

Now on to the desserts. Or maybe not. The nonfat cheesecake made with nonfat ricotta and fruit juice is wishful thinking. It’s like eating sweet wallpaper paste. But it’s nonfat! Warm berry cobbler with vanilla bean ice cream sounds irresistible, but it tastes of cornstarch. And it’s not a cobbler. It’s a crumble--a tough crumble.

Lunch may be the best bet at Carson’s. The double row of tables shaded by a striped awning outside and set off from the sidewalk by a laced canvas fence is a pleasant spot. But there’s hardly anybody sitting there. Maybe it’s because all the tables are for two. Maybe it’s because the waiters tend to forget there’s anybody out there.

The lunch menu offers many of the same appetizers and pasta dishes, along with main course salads and a few sandwiches. Salad “nicoise” is a beautiful, carefully arranged composition of greens, haricots verts , tomatoes and hard-boiled egg. Now, I can live with the fact that fresh ahi tuna (grilled, dense and dried out) is substituted for the classic tinned tuna. But an expurgated Nicoise--I could find neither olives nor anchovies in mine--is a salad designed for the eyes, not the palate. Only the greens are dressed.

The smoked shrimp BLT, however, is interesting and could have been terrific, if the bread had been less doughy, the shrimp less cooked, and the bacon less charred. I would give this one another try. But not the grilled flank steak sandwich.

“Medium rare is the temperature that’s recommended,” advises the waiter. This open-face sandwich--with thinly sliced steak that has no hint of pink heaped on a thick raft of bread and topped with caramelized red onions--is no success. The waiter notices, asks if there’s a problem and then takes the sandwich off the bill, to his credit.

While the service still has some glitches to work out, it is unfailingly polite and good-natured. They just get distracted sometimes.

Like West Hollywood’s Mortons, Carson’s is not about the food. It also has a similar clubby feel to it. Lots of people seem to know each other, stopping to murmur a greeting or wave to someone across the room. It’s really more of a neighborhood place than a destination restaurant. For that, the menu would have to offer more than serviceable California cuisine.

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CARSON’S CUISINE: California eclectic. AMBIENCE: Spare good looks with blond cafe chairs, big wood-framed windows, and a double row of tables outside along the sidewalk. BEST DISHES: Grilled jumbo asparagus, seared scallop salad, penne with rapini, salmon with a Cabernet-black peppercorn sauce, rack of Colorado lamb. WINE PICKS: 1993 Acacia Chardonnay. 1992 Silverado Merlot. FACTS: 369 N. Bedford Dr., Beverly Hills; (310) 273-9497. Closed Sunday lunch. Dinner for two, food only, $41 to $89; Corkage $12. Valet parking at dinner only.