Play it again, Jimmy

WHEN Jimmy Murphy walked away from Jimmy’s a few years ago, he closed the door on an era, or so it seemed.

Jimmy’s, of course, was the comfortable Beverly Hills watering hole where Continental cuisine made a last stand amid gilt and mirrors and a faithful old Hollywood crowd that still cared enough to dress for cocktails and dinner -- and, sometimes, would get up to sing along with the pianist tickling out the tunes in the bar.

But retirement didn’t seem to have suited Murphy. Maybe the dapper Irishman missed the nightly theater of a restaurant, or he just couldn’t resist the thrill of opening his own place one more time, because he’s set up house again -- this time a few miles west, in the old Primi space in West Los Angeles, and joined by his wife and his tall, broad-shouldered son, Sean.

And the old crowd is back too, everyone who could make it, that is. Outside, valets open doors of lovingly polished old Bentleys and bulky Cadillacs made back when the name really meant something. The occasional BMW convertible or Mercedes purrs at the curb too, as a new generation takes a shine to Jimmy Murphy and his new restaurant.

The old Blarney stone given to Murphy by the mayor of Cork, Ireland, is a distinct presence under the black awning that reads “Purveyors of Fine Food, Wine & Spirits.” The family coat of arms is fixed at a jaunty tilt above the door.

Jimmy’s Tavern is everything the hip new restaurants aren’t. Under Murphy, his wife and son, it’s impeccably well-run. Murphy, after all, is one of the smoothest hosts in the city. Nobody will put you on hold for half an hour or lose your reservation on a Saturday night. The service is considerate, discreet and quick. The noise level, while daunting if you’re unlucky enough to be seated just in front of the baby grand, is manageable enough for conversation. On every visit, I’ve noted how people seem to linger for dinner, leaning into each other, talking, or stopping at the bar for a nightcap.

Even regulars wouldn’t recognize the old Primi now. The configuration is different and a new paint job and massive skylight brighten up what was once the garden patio. With its kitschy carriage lights and porcelain pagodas, white linens and faience cabbage plates, the decor doesn’t exactly mesh with the idea of a tavern.

The design is too studied and, in its way, too formal for that. Jimmy’s Tavern is definitely in a time warp, but a nostalgic sweet-natured one. The self-imposed dress code is worth noting: I’ve never seen so many men in ties, most with matching handkerchiefs peeking flirtatiously from a pocket. The women are coiffed -- and I mean coiffed -- for their night on the town. My 58-year-old dining companion one evening is amazed. It’s the first even semi-hot restaurant he can recall where he’s among the youngest in the crowd.

The menu has been updated just enough to appeal to both the old guard and those who weren’t crazy about Continental in the first place. Some of the best dishes, though, have a more classic than experimental impulse. Smoked Irish salmon wrapped up in a lemon herb crepe makes a lovely starter. Peeky toe crab cakes are plump and satisfying. And a few quite ordinary jumbo shrimp are perked up with a garlic, white wine and lemon sauce. But the Caesar is overdressed and limp.

If you fancy a classic corned beef and cabbage every now and then, you can find this homey dish on the menu here. The Kilkenny corned beef is just what it should be. Moist and grainy, it’s served with cabbage, boiled potatoes, fresh horseradish and a sharp mustard. Irish lamb stew tastes like real food too, tender pieces of Sonoma lamb bathed in natural juices with pearl onions, carrots, a little potato -- and for color, grass-green fava beans. The steaks and chops are fine, and if you order a Niman Ranch pork chop, it won’t be overcooked. New York steak is prime, and served with an old-fashioned puff pastry tart filled with wild mushrooms and sauced with a heavy hand.

Fish, though, is not the kitchen’s strong suit. Whether it’s Pacific Dover sole swimming in too much butter or grouper in a tomato sauce gently fired with jalapeno, neither would be my first choice here.

Wild organic Irish salmon is another matter, with more flavor and texture than the farmed fish offered in most places. It may be the best thing on the menu.

On the updated side, fashionable Kobe beef appears as an appetizer, lightly seared, blood rare in the middle, tender and marbled with fat. It’s delicious with a simple arugula salad. Softshell crabs arrive in a filigree of batter that’s reminiscent of tempura, but the celery root in the celeri remoulade that accompanies it is woody enough to have been a leftover from the first Jimmy’s.

Dominoes of quadretti pasta with zigzagged edges in an understated Bolognese sauce are another good choice. The jury’s still out on another creation, though. It’s supposed to be tuna tartare wrapped in mint leaves and fried in a lacy tempura batter -- except what happens is that once the packets are fried, the tuna is no longer tartare -- it’s cooked and, sorry to say, tastes closer to canned tuna fish.

Classic cocktails rule at Jimmy’s. I didn’t see a single green apple martini or blue margarita. This is a crowd that likes its Scotch on the rocks, its martinis straight up and its Manhattans made with name-brand bourbon. The wine list is fairly priced, but predictably middle-of-the-road, with the usual roster of Chardonnays, Pinot Noirs and California Cabs and a handful of expensive older Bordeaux.

As for dessert, the answer is coupe a la Jimmy’s, a flamboyant sundae that piles on vanilla ice cream, raspberry sorbet, berries splashed with Grand Marnier and a drift of whipped cream. The other desserts can’t compete, though a bread pudding made with Guinness Stout and Irish whisky comes close. Most people, though, can’t resist capping off the evening with an Irish coffee. And why not? It’s a tavern.

From the very first week, it was as if Murphy pressed the play button after a long pause, and the ongoing party that was Jimmy’s picked up where it left off three years before. There’s the stately Sidney Poitier at the head of a large table one night, and across the room, a face I glimpsed in an old late-night film. Like the old Jimmy’s, this one has its moments, and its audience.

*Jimmy’s Tavern

Rating: * 1/2

Location: 10543 W. Pico Blvd., West Los Angeles; (310) 446-8808.

Ambience: Jimmy Murphy’s idea of a “tavern,” where an old Hollywood crowd that still dresses for a night out convenes for classic cocktails and dinner. It’s as if the old Jimmy’s never closed.

Service: Professional and plentiful.

Price: Dinner appetizers, $7.50 to $16; main courses, $19 to $29.50; desserts, $7.50.

Best dishes: Smoked Irish salmon, seared Kobe beef, peeky toe crab cakes, quadretti Bolognese, organic Irish salmon, corned beef and cabbage, Irish lamb stew, coupe a la Jimmy’s.

Wine list: Serviceable, but uninteresting. Corkage, $15.

Best table: The back corner table in the main dining room.

Details: Open Monday through Friday for lunch, 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m.; Monday through Saturday for dinner, 5:30 to 10:30 p.m. Bar stays open throughout the afternoon. Full bar. Valet parking, $5.

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.