Postcard From Provence

When you call La Madrague for a reservation, expect a French accent. One of the partners is Yon Idiart, the young Basque who was most recently manager at La Cachette in Century City. The chef is Alsace-born Martin Herold, who was sous-chef at the same restaurant. And when you arrive, the sweet little building on La Cienega, painted Mediterranean pink and marked by cafe tables and a cart of potted flowers, appears to have been plucked from the French countryside and plopped down on the busy L.A. street.

The food at this 3-month-old restaurant (once the home of Tryst, then Florian) is very Provencal, not as cutting edge as La Cachette’s or as polished as Lunaria’s, but very much like what you might be served at a modest restaurant outside Orange or Avignon. On a recent rainy night, the bar is jammed with French speakers, sultry French pop plays on the sound system and an enticingly aromatic smoke fills the air. Shrugging off our coats, we settle in and see, two tables over, a waiter set fire to dried thyme twigs in the bottom of a copper skillet and wave thick, rare baby lamb chops over the flame to give the meat a hint of smoke and herb.

The homey dining room is an eccentric mix of faux lizard banquettes and armchairs left over from Tryst and Provencal-print tablecloths, copper pots stuffed with dried flowers, garlic braids and the kind of tchotckes that clutter little restaurants in the south of France.

The menu focuses on the best-loved dishes of Provence. To start, there is soupe au pistou, a nubbly vegetable soup with diced potato, green beans, dried beans, salt pork and pasta that gets its startling green color from a spoonful of pistou (the Provencal equivalent of Ligurian pesto). A delicious savory tart comes stuffed with spinach and herbs, mostly sweet basil and flat-leaf parsley.

Slightly less successful are the chef’s original salt cod-and-potato ravioli with a light tomato coulis, which would be a wonderful if the pouches were more tender. La Madrague’s version of the onion tart known as pissaladiere is too doughy for my taste, topped with slippery onions, Nicoise olives and very little anchovy. And a pretty basket of freshly cut raw vegetables is spoiled by a bubbling crock of overly salty anchoiade, made with inferior anchovies, garlic and a dash of red wine vinegar and olive oil.

Moules marinieres piled into a white-glazed terra-cotta bowl, however, are perfectly lovely: small, tender mussels steamed in white wine and shallots, with plenty of fragrant, buttery juices to mop up with bread. And the day the special first course is a copper skillet of ratatouille tossed with shrimp and mussels in the shell, we polish off every bit of it.

Main courses are classics. I enjoy those thyme-scented lamb chops with ratatouille served alongside, and the whole sea bass, grilled on the bone, over tomatoes and dried fennel. Daube de boeuf, beef stew marinated and braised in red wine, is a bit leathery. And while monkfish is perfectly cooked, the aioli is a mere shadow of its usual garlicky self. But the restaurant’s rendition of steak frites, rib eye slathered with a bright green parsley butter and a pile of quite fabulous fries, is altogether satisfying.

The waiters, most of whom speak French, are a definite asset. When one of my guests gets a nosebleed in the middle of dinner, our waiter rushes back with a napkin doused in vinegar. “It’s what my grandmother used to give me as a remedy when I was a kid.” And it works.

Desserts are cozy: a good warm chocolate souffle, more like a flourless chocolate cake than a true souffle, creme bru^lee sweetened with lavender honey and poached pear with chocolate sauce and pistachio ice cream.

La Madrague’s prices are moderate, and the staff makes a real effort with the cooking and the service. But more attention could be paid to small but telling details such as the cottony bread or tepid, weak espresso or salads made with tired greens or roasted peppers that have soured in the refrigerator. The short wine list could use some serious tweaking, too.

In the end, I like this fledgling restaurant enough to bear with its faults. I’ll order carefully when I go back--and hope that these young restaurateurs, after they’ve had a little time to breathe, will work on giving every dish the sun-washed taste of Provence.

LA MADRAGUE

CUISINE: Provencal. AMBIENCE: provincial French restaurant. BEST DISHES: moules marinieres, lamb with thyme, grilled sea bass. WINE PICK: Georges Duboeuf Brouilly, 1994. FACTS: 401 N. La Cienega Blvd., Los Angeles (310) 659-4999. Closed Saturday, Sunday at lunch; open until 1:30 a.m. Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Dinner for two, food only, $38 to $82. Corkage $10. Valet parking. Live music Friday and Saturday.