Ago Trip

The line of flashy cars turns off Melrose Avenue into the parking lot and purrs up to the valet station, where men in basic black leather and women in wispy dresses or tight-fitting sweaters step out into the light. It’s a typical night at Ago, the West Hollywood Italian. A seriously muscled guy out front wearing an earpiece must be either a bodyguard or a bookie. A few glum souls slump on a bench outside the entrance.

Inside, the maitre d’s work the phones, press the flesh and fend off queries from the impatient in a space the size of a hall closet and with the clamor of the high-energy bar directly behind. A well-padded gentleman bluffs his way in, whispering conspiratorially in Italian to the host, though it doesn’t get him a table any faster.

Actually, given the crush at the door, tables are doled out pretty efficiently, because I’ve never had to wait more than 15 minutes for my (reserved) table. The other side of the equation is that waiters are brutally efficient at turning the tables, and the kitchen is paced to match. Order a starter of risotto, for example, and it will arrive in 10 minutes, not the 20 it usually takes to cook. And if you don’t hurry, the main courses are likely to arrive before you finish your primi.

Since it opened in 1997, Ago has been more notable for the scene than for its food. When I learned that chef/owner Agostino Sciandri was back, I decided to check it out again. Recently, the Italian-born chef, who goes by Ago for short, sold his interest in Toscana in Brentwood and stepped back from full-time involvement with the Rostis chain of Tuscan takeout restaurants to concentrate on his namesake restaurant.

Sciandri is there most nights now. Look for him center stage--the sturdy, grizzled figure in the Fair Isle sweater vest monitoring the youngsters working the line. A long table overflowing with flowers and the night’s array of desserts half-screens the open kitchen from view. From my table that first night, I see him turn back some dishes. OK now, he’s really getting serious.

The heart of this gleaming loft-like space is its wood-burning pizza oven. In its glow, cooks are frantically garnishing pizza dough and pulling charred bisteccas from the embers. Past that is the two-level dining room. The farther back your table, it seems, the higher your rating on the A-list. Waiters are more effusive, singing out “hello, goodbye, ciao, ciao” and exchanging double kisses with the regulars. It’s that irresistible Italian schmaltz, and it plays very well in this old-school restaurant.

The minute guests are seated, a runner arrives with a bottle of water in each hand. Still or sparkling? If asked while they’re still getting their bearings, most diners will choose one or the other, forgetting they have the option of tap water or none at all. Either way, the restaurant gets to add at least $6 to the bill. Ago’s waiters seem to evaluate a new table quickly, culling the ordinary folk from the potential big spenders on whom to lavish attention.

Everybody gets complimentary shards of flatbread, drizzled with olive oil, from the pizza oven. From this point on, ordering becomes critical. I’ll tell you what to order so that you leave thinking Ago is worth the price for an entertaining scene. Deviate from my suggestions at your own risk.

As a first course, fresh, creamy burrata (a richer relative of mozzarella) and a heap of emerald green beans with black pepper ground over it. Leave the garnish of bland out-of-season tomatoes. Next, get either the bistecca or the 18-ounce costata di manzo (rib-eye) charred rare. Both are grilled to perfection and slightly smoky from the wood fire. The beef is moderately flavorful and juicy. And the accompanying thick-cut roast potatoes have an irresistible golden crunch. The sauteed spinach is so good I could eat hanks of it. For dessert, have the ricotta cheesecake. Start to finish, this meal will satisfy all those meat-and-potato types: It’s the Italian restaurant as chophouse.

Veer from the above menu, especially if you know anything about Italian food, and you’ll go away thinking this place is ridiculous. What can you say about pizza topped with tapenade and pale red, cottony tomatoes? This is a pizza that demands a good tomato. It’s impossible to conjure up the taste of Italy with this kind of product. Another pizza is topped with a blizzard of arugula leaves, but the cheese underneath has gone rubbery and cold.

Other antipasti include beans with shrimp, which are simply awful--just plain boiled beans and some tired, flavorless shrimp. Zuppa di golfo (gulf soup) isn’t much better. The seafood is mostly calamari rings with a couple of shrimp and a few bites of fish in a thick, spicy tomato broth (I want to say sauce). Heavily battered fritto misto di mare (mixed fried seafood) could have more of a crunch. This dish, too, is mostly calamari rings with some tentacles, a shrimp or two and a solitary piece of fish.

In general, I’d skip the pastas. Spaghetti with seafood is nicely cooked al dente, but the seafood is heavily calamari. A special artichoke tortellini with porcini mushrooms and black truffle sauce is dreadful. The tortellini are huge, ungainly things, as big as quail, and tough to boot. They’re served in a slimy porcini sauce flecked with black, which could be truffles but, on second taste, maybe not. Penne alla Catalana, which is scampi with julienned zucchini in a saffron-scented spicy tomato sauce, sounds appealing. One bite, though, and everybody at our table passes it on, dubbing it “Three Mile Island” penne for its metallic taste. I could go on.

Seafood is not top quality either. The whitefish one night doesn’t taste fresh and isn’t helped by the odd texture of the sauteed artichoke. Grilled sea bass is decent, just not that interesting.

Wines here have a hefty markup. With these prices, to not list vintages for white wines is inexcusable. (With the waiter running back and forth to see what the vintage is, you’re better off sticking with a red.) And for all that, the staff doesn’t even have a basic knowledge of wines. If the median price of wines is in the low $100s, everyone on staff should know what these wines are.

Despite Sciandri’s presence, Ago is still running on autopilot. The attitude seems to be: The place is jammed, so what’s the problem? Wouldn’t it be a great story if the food actually got better with time? If the staff decided to offer something more? Instead, Ago feels like a touristy place in Rome where the waiters are out to fleece anybody they don’t know.

Ago

8478 Melrose Ave.

West Hollywood

(323) 655-6333

Cuisine: Italian

Rating: no star

*

AMBIENCE: Loft-like, clamorous space with display kitchen. SERVICE: Brutally efficient, more attentive to the big spenders. BEST DISHES: Burrata and green beans, bistecca fiorentina, rib-eye, sauteed spinach, roast potatoes, ricotta cheesecake. Dinner appetizers, $9 to $14. Pastas, $9 to $15. Main courses, $18 to $28. CORKAGE: $15. WINE PICKS: 1997 Fontodi Vigna del Sorbo Chianti Classico Riserva, Tuscany; 1995 Brolio Casalferro, Tuscany. FACTS: Lunch weekdays. Dinner daily. 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.