Mediterranean Mood

A lovely house and enclosed garden on 3rd street near Crescent Heights, once the site of a short-lived kosher Mediterranean restaurant, is now home to a low-key, romantic spot serving light Mediterranean fare, mostly French with Moroccan and Italian influences. Named after the weathered Moroccan door at its entry, the Little Door opens inward, onto a charming walled courtyard shaded by a tall eucalyptus tree. There’s an ornately tiled fountain at one end; at the other, a softly lit bar. Behind the L-shaped bar is a cruvinet crowded with dozens of open bottles of wine. Mosaic-topped tables are set out under the stars (or, in case of rain, a clear plastic tent hung with colored paper lanterns.)

Inside, the restaurant feels like a rambling, down-at-the-heels country house. Several rooms serve as dining space, and French doors open onto the courtyard. Windowsills are painted the bright blue of doors and shutters all over Provence. There’s a piano with a guitar resting on top of it in one room. In the back room is a waist-high hearth, where a fire burns under a tiled hood. The long wood tables could have come from an old farmhouse. Candles in rustic iron sconces and French canning jars burn everywhere, bathing the rooms in warm light.

We sit in the rear dining room, the one with the fireplace, where we can glimpse the kitchen through the opening framed by cafe curtains. As we sip our wine (the entire list is available by the glass, from a St. Tropez rose at $5 to a premier cru Chablis at $20), we find ourselves caught up in the recorded music: haunting North African ballads and the great Mali singer Salif Kehita mixed with world beat and dance tunes.

The menu--a dozen appetizers and about the same number of main courses--changes almost daily, depending on what the chef finds at the farmers’ markets. For a kitchen and restaurant of this size, that’s quite ambitious. Maybe too much so.

To start, grilled vegetable terrine is a colorful layering of grilled eggplant, sweet red peppers and zucchini that has set long enough for the flavors to meld beautifully. It’s served with a dab of tapenade. A Moroccan-inspired salad features tender butter lettuce strewn with meaty dates, orange segments and chopped almonds, and a tangy goat cheese tartlet comes surrounded by peppery arugula. Gorgonzola gnocchi, tender pillows of semolina dough sauced with the Italian blue cheese and lots of wrinkly morel mushrooms, is rich enough to serve as a main course. The same goes for crisp-skinned duck confit, its flesh properly salted, but its French lentils could stand some seasoning. A homemade pheasant and pistachio terrine is utterly bland, a big disappointment to anyone who loves terrine.

Decent grilled lamb chops in mustard and rosemary sauce come with a rich and delicious gratin of potato and celery root. Roasted pheasant is remarkably moist, cooked with a little tarragon and a handful of morels in a light cream sauce. Pork loin stuffed with figs, almonds and green olives is just a touch dry, enough so that my gratin gets most of my attention. The grilled lamb kabob is a plainer entree, served with a refreshing yogurt cilantro sauce, fluffy couscous and whole okra. But the best dish may be the flavorful filet mignon in tart lingonberry sauce, with that gratin and a pile of haricots verts.

The desserts, listed in a scribble on a chalkboard, are all house-made. Skip the dreadful chocolate and pear cheesecake and the tarte tatin in lavender-infused cream. Except for the poached prunes in Muscat de Beaumes-de-Venise or the chocolate macadamia tart that tastes like a grown-up candy bar, sweets are far from the strongest suit here.

On subsequent visits, the Little Door loses some of its enchantment--at least with regard to food. I have a lovely assortment of Moroccan salads one night that includes marinated beets and carrots dressed in lemon juice and cumin. A thin lentil soup laced with chicken is surprisingly good, but a garlic and potato soup swirled with arugula pesto is marred by a gluey texture. A thick marinated swordfish steak in tahini sauce has more flavor than any I’ve had recently, but why surround it with insipid baby vegetables? Ahi tuna, requested rare, is overdone. The clams in a monkfish bourride with saffron broth are tender, but the fish is rubbery and the saffron isn’t the best quality. And so it goes. Considering this string of meals, the kitchen would do well to pare down the menu so it could concentrate on fewer dishes.

Service is even more erratic than the cooking. The first night we get a waiter who is attentive, remembers to pour the water and wine and gets our orders straight. Another evening, when it isn’t nearly as busy, our waiter seems to disappear at every opportunity. We wait for menus, then for wine, then for the chance to order our food. Fortunately, my companions and I have a lot of catching up to do because it’s a very long time before anything arrives. And longer still between appetizers and main courses. Only the bill shows up promptly.

Despite everything, though, the Little Door has undeniable appeal. It’s a wonderfully romantic place where you can visit with old friends or make new ones during an evening ensconced at one of the communal tables. The crowd is always intriguing; the music, beguiling. And if you don’t stay for dinner, you can certainly while away the hours at the courtyard bar over appetizers and a few glasses of wine.

THE LITTLE DOOR

CUISINE: Mediterranean. AMBIENCE: Rambling house with courtyard and outdoor bar. BEST DISHES: grilled vegetable terrine, Gorgonzola gnocchi and morels in cream sauce, duck confit, grilled marinated swordfish, grilled filet mignon with lingonberry sauce. WINE PICK: Domaine Rabasse Charavin Cotes du Rhone, 1994. FACTS: 8164 W. 3rd St., Los Angeles; (213) 951-1210. Dinner nightly. Dinner for two, food only, $48 to $72. Corkage $10. Valet parking.