The neighborhood secret

When Christian Shaffer and Jeff Osaka arrived for work at Drake’s one day last March and found the doors padlocked, it was fortuitous in a way. Because the two chefs decided then and there the time had come to open their own place. A few months later, a space turned up in Playa del Rey, a neighborhood that sorely needs a good restaurant. And yes, if anyone is wondering, there is a there there -- a block and a half of storefronts on Culver Boulevard that stolidly preserves its nondescript ‘70s beach-community look.

The site was previously occupied by Ripe, a Succulent Eatery, which wins this year’s prize for most unfortunate restaurant name. So when it came time to choose what to call their place, they went with something simple and called it Chloe. Next door is a laid-back beach bar with a rusted-out vintage Corvette typically at the curb and somebody’s pooch tied outside the doorway. Amid this quite ordinary slice of Playa del Rey, Chloe shines like a girl dressed up for the prom. With most people, it’s love at first sight.

With two chefs and two waiters, it’s a sweet little place, freshly painted and decorated without a big budget. It relies on a few handsome details to set the tone. In the front window, a banquette is softened with plump pillows. Hanging lamps have handblown shades. The stylish, perfectly balanced steak knives are Global, from Japan, a favorite with chefs for their superb kitchen tools.

With just eight or 10 tables, depending on the configuration, and a bar where three or four people can have a glass of wine or a quick bite, Chloe seats 38, although the owners may add a couple of sidewalk tables and plan to open a guesthouse out back for brunch, and eventually lunch.

On a summer evening, the front door is open to catch a breeze, and the light plays on the white linens, little vases of wildflowers and thin crystal wineglasses. At one end of the small room, a birthday party is in progress with four generations at the long table. Couples drift in from the neighborhood for dinner, and the curious pop their heads inside to check out this mysterious newcomer.

Every month, a new menu

Chloe is a kind of secret address, with the right look and, more important, delicious food. The format is simple: a one-page menu that changes almost entirely every month so it doesn’t get stale. I’ve had lovely meals from both May and June’s menus, and everyone I’ve brought to Chloe has raced back with their friends on their own. Word of mouth is filling the place almost every night.

What’s interesting is that in a smaller restaurant, with a smaller menu, Shaffer and Osaka’s cooking is soulful in a way it never seemed at Drake’s in Venice. The whole place exudes a kind of happiness that’s reflected in the food. Chilled leeks with grated hard-boiled eggs on top and a whole-grain mustard sauce is a refreshing summer dish, and I have to work hard to keep it (mostly) to myself. Another night, an understated salad of sliced golden beets, fierce arugula, sweet red onion and crisped pancetta in juicy citrus vinaigrette is simple and satisfying.

Somebody here has a thing for soups, because these aren’t the usual innocuous vegetable purees most kitchens reluctantly offer. They’re actually interesting. June’s was a curried cauliflower soup swirled with cucumber yogurt. May’s was a beautiful green-pea puree swirled with cream that carried the unexpected and unmistakable fragrance of vanilla.

While roasted veal bone marrow might be more suited to fall and winter than early summer, it’s a wonderfully extravagant first course. The tall veal bone is presented upright, a marrow spoon stuck into the cavity and surrounded by ruffs of sliced morels, deep-flavored carrots and English peas in a loose, flavorful broth.

The two chefs actually met at Pinot Bistro, then met up again at Drake’s. They’re a good match, because Schaffer is strongest with meat, and Osaka is better at fish, Shaffer’s wife, Tedde, explained as she made the rounds of the tables one night, wearing her grandmother’s opal.

A wild beauty

Hardly anybody thinks to serve fresh sturgeon, which is a shame. It can be a beautiful fish. Here, wild Columbia River sturgeon is so moist and flavorful it’s hard to imagine that anybody still longs for Chilean sea bass. It’s a beautiful plate too, with that pristine piece of fish flanked by sauteed green and yellow zucchini and a shock of gold zucchini blossoms in a lemon-basil butter. A fine fish stew includes pan-roasted monkfish and a generous assortment of clams, mussels and shrimp in a broth perfumed with saffron and perhaps a bit too much fennel.

When it comes to meat, you are in very good hands. Australian rack of lamb, at $26 the most expensive thing on May’s menu, is a bouquet of rosy little chops that cut like butter and come with a pretty potato and morel mushroom tart. Angus strip loin has plenty of flavor too, and arrives with a hash of baby artichokes and fingerling potatoes. One night, tender slow-roasted oxtail is accented with velvety porcini mushrooms and a few ravioli with a classic ricotta and Swiss chard filling. Juicy, thick-sliced lamb sirloin with black olives and a gentle whiff of lavender is as summery as Provence. The delicious filo dough packet filled with caramelized onions is sort of a deconstructed pissaladiere, the Provencal caramelized onion tart.

The one-page wine list offers more than a dozen and a half wines by the glass and the same number of half bottles, which is a nice touch, especially since they include a Domaine Drouhin Pinot Noir and a Qupe Marsanne. But the list could use fewer middle-of-the-road selections and more offbeat choices closer to the spirit of the restaurant, which is otherwise such a personal kind of place.

Yet another chocolate souffle sounds humdrum, but give this one a chance. It’s deep and dark, and baked in a cappuccino cup with a cloud of cream on top. With the lemon tart with candied citron, a lovely light lemon filling hovers above a buttery crust. Unlike so many contemporary versions of creme brulee, where the layer of cream is far too thin and often warm, this one has that ideal proportion of crackling sugar crust to deep, cool custard beneath.

Taking a chance on themselves, Shaffer and Osaka have created a great little neighborhood restaurant, one with enough heart and soul to draw people from the neighboring beach communities.

*Chloe

Rating: **

Location: 333 Culver Blvd., Playa del Rey; (310) 305-4505.

Ambience: Sweet little neighborhood restaurant with just 38 seats, two cooks and two waiters.

Service: Amiable and professional.

Price: Appetizers, $6 to $10; main courses, $18 to $26; desserts, $6.

Best dishes: Menu changes monthly. Chilled leek, pea and vanilla soup, roasted veal bone marrow, golden beet and pancetta salad, wild sturgeon, rack of lamb, slow-roasted oxtail, lamb sirloin, chocolate souffle, creme brulee.

Wine list: A work in progress that could use more wines that reflect the adventurous spirit of the restaurant. Corkage, $10.

Best table: The cozy banquette in the front window.

Details: Open for dinner 6 to 10 p.m. Tuesday to Sunday this week (starting next week, open the same hours Monday to Saturday). Valet parking on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, $3.50.

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.