A Bistro To Bank On

WINTER IN LOS ANGELES MAY NOT BE CHILLY enough to pull out that mohair sweater, but it’s just nippy enough to induce a longing for French bistro food. You could buy a ticket to Paris or drool over Patricia Wells’ “Bistro Cooking.” But why do that when you can sip Beaujolais or Bourgueil and enjoy your steak frites or veal daube closer to home? A home-grown bistro has its advantages, not the least of which is avoiding the blue cigarette haze that lends Paris bistros their film noir aura. And here, intrepid bistro-goers may just be brave enough to dust off their French in front of a waiter more bemused than Parisian-arrogant.

After all the nouvelle and fusion cooking, familiar bistro cooking offers solid comfort. Mimosa in Los Angeles is part of the later wave of French bistros here. In one authentic and satisfying dish, fat steamed leeks trail their green tails through stone green lentils de Puy splashed with a sharp vinaigrette. For the friture d’Eperlans, whole finger-sized rainbow fish are fried to a golden crisp and served with a lemony handmade tartar sauce. Follow that with the robust steak au poivre with a peppercorn sauce that packs a punch, and a heap of pale gold frites. If you end with ‘le flottante, a fluff of meringue that’s the “island” floating in a sea of vanilla-scented creme anglaise, you’ll have a meal you could find at countless Paris bistros for a modest price. Nothing fancy. Nothing heart-stoppingly delicious. Just average. After three years, Mimosa has settled for normality.

When the small neighborhood bistro opened in 1997, I couldn’t wait to go back, and obviously, nobody else could either. Lunch and dinner felt like an ongoing party to which every French expatriate and Francophile in town had been invited. Host and co-owner Silvio DeMori, always gracious and elegant, was at the podium, pouring a glass of wine if you had to wait--and there was almost always a wait for a table--while Jean-Pierre Bosc was in the kitchen sending out rustic dishes fragrant with garlic, wine and Provencal herbs.

Things aren’t the same, though. I haven’t glimpsed either DeMori or Bosc in five visits during the past several months. Bosc seems to be more at Cafe des Artistes, the Hollywood brasserie the two partners opened last year. But Mimosa sorely needs his passion and attention. Now, if you don’t happen to stumble onto the foolproof dishes on the menu, the cooking can be lackluster--workmanlike, at best.

So what, you might ask, are these sure-fire dishes? The aforementioned leeks, friture, steak au poivre and ‘le flottante. Bosc’s signature tomato tarte tatin, whole peeled plum tomatoes set on a puff pastry crust, is another tried-and-true option. The roasted veal chop is reasonably juicy and flavorful, as is the roasted rack of lamb with goat cheese and herb crust. The lamb chops are rosy and tender, with a reliably lamby flavor, though I wouldn’t make any claims for the rather gluey mashed potatoes. The green beans, however, are perfect.

And if you have your sights set on drinking a bottle of good Bordeaux, the cote de boeuf for two would be a fine choice. Pay attention, though, when the waiter comes out with your 2-inch- thick beef. It arrives already sliced, and on my last visit, distracted for a moment by the conversation, I watched, heartbroken, as the waiter drowned the beautiful steak in olive oil. Fortunately, he goes easier on the fleur de sel de Guerande, the fluffy, mineral-laden sea salt from Brittany.

I am not fickle. Mimosa has changed. The tarte flambee, the thin-crusted Alsatian tart topped with a smear of creme fra’che, smoky lardons and mild white onions, has morphed into more of a pizza, crowned with cheese, which plays no part in the original recipe. The salade Lyonnaise features a poached egg without much taste on tired frisee doused with vinegar and very little oil. The once beautiful poulet en cocotte, chicken served in a Le Creuset enamel pot, is not nearly as generous as it once was. This grandmotherly dish tastes more assembled than lovingly cooked. Duck and pork rillettes are disappointingly bland. I can’t tell if it’s because the basic product is poor or whether the kitchen is attempting to make a low-salt, lower-fat version, which would seem to be beside the point. Rillettes, after all, are about the flavor and texture of fat. That’s what makes them so irresistible smeared on a baguette.

The good news is that it’s easier to get a reservation at Mimosa now that the trendy crowd has moved on. I used to ask to sit outside on the patio in front. Now it’s quiet enough to converse inside. And the dining room looks more inviting than ever with walls covered in nostalgic black-and-white photos (check out the one of the young Silvio DeMori in racing togs) and votive candles in simple glasses set around the room. It’s not brilliant but, after all, not every bistro in Paris is either. C’est normal.

Mimosa

8009 Beverly Blvd.,

Los Angeles,

(323) 655-8895

cuisine: French bistro

rating: *

*

AMBIENCE: Classic French bistro with inviting dining room and sheltered front patio. SERVICE: Cordial and efficient. BEST DISHES: Friture d’Eperlans, leeks with lentil salad, tomato tarte tatin, roasted rack of lamb, roasted veal chop, grilled cote de boeuf, steak au poivre, ‘le flottante. Appetizers, $6 to $12. Main courses, $13 to $23. Corkage, $3 per bottle per person ($12 maximum). WINE PICKS: 1997 Chateau de Reignac, Bordeaux; 1997 Fattoria de Felsina-Berardenga Chianti Classico, Tuscany. FACTS: Lunch weekdays. Dinner Monday through Saturday. Valet parking.

*

Rating is based on food, service and ambience, with price taken into account in relation to quality. ****: Outstanding on every level. ***: Excellent. **: Very good. *: Good. No star: Poor to satisfactory.