He’s rocking their world

When I called my butcher the other day to order some short ribs, he slipped me a seemingly innocent question. Had I been to Maple Drive lately?

Since I had, in fact, several times, I knew immediately what he had in mind. And it wasn’t to discuss the quality of the veal chop or New York strip. He wanted to talk about how the new chef, Eric Klein, has turned the kitchen around. “It’s terrific,” he intoned in a deep bass voice. High praise from a guy mad about food, who runs out to every new restaurant the minute they fling open the doors. Many of the chefs buy meat from him, after all. But I knew he wasn’t just being polite about this one. The new Maple Drive rocks.

As restaurants go in Los Angeles, Maple Drive has been around forever. Its sleek architecture was so forward-looking when this modern American restaurant opened that it doesn’t look dated some 14 years later. But the menu certainly did.

In the beginning, chef Leonard Schwartz came on strong with signature dishes like his smoldering “kick ass chile” with all the fixings, meatloaf as big as a toaster, and “chicken in a pot.” It was comfort food for the music executives who worked in the building. And there the menu stayed stuck, with scarcely a change from year to year or season to season. Until a few months ago, Maple Drive was the Sleeping Beauty of the L.A. food world.

When Schwartz left last year to open Zeke’s Smokehouse in Montrose, the kitchen floundered until somebody got smart and hired Klein, a young French chef who had been working under Lee Hefter at Spago. More than ready to be in charge of his own kitchen, he came in and transformed the place in a matter of weeks. Like Hefter, he’s a hands-on chef, determined to seize the moment, there every night and all day, too.

For the first time in years, it feels as if somebody is at home at Maple Drive. The staff no longer seems half-asleep. The hosts seem positively chatty instead of chilly. The entire restaurant seems to have new energy and excitement. Klein will bound out of the kitchen in the middle of service and make the rounds of the tables to introduce himself in the most unassuming, comfortable way, usually with a pencil tucked behind his ear. Sometimes he stays too long, but chalk it up to enthusiasm.

He’ll ask what you feel like eating tonight and tell you, with excitement in his voice, that he’s just got in black bass from Maine or live Maryland blue crabs. “Do you feel like some tarte flambee?” he might ask a guest who reminisced about Alsace, where Klein grew up. “I just got some creme fraiche in. I can make one. I love that,” he says, patting his rounded belly.

This is one occasion to trust the chef. That tarte flambee is not to be missed. He serves it, thin-crusted and supple, on a wooden board. Though it resembles a pizza, the tarte is much lighter because there’s no cheese involved. It’s slipped into the oven with only a smear of creme fraiche and a scattering of sweet white onions and lardons. It’s cut into strips, and you eat it with your fingers.

He may follow that with an amuse bouche, that night a miniature quiche Lorraine. With its marvelous flaky crust and fragile custard flavored with bacon and spinach, it is a subtle stunner. (Quiche just may be ready for a comeback.) Klein is equally adept with soup. He’ll take baby Yukon Gold potatoes, slice them thin and cook them with leeks in a rich broth with swatches of Swiss chard to make a very earthy and delicious country soup. Garnished with a swirl of olive oil, a Parmesan crouton and a grinding of black pepper, it couldn’t be more satisfying.

He’s jazzed up some of the old standbys, too, like chilled shrimp soup, which is chunkier now, more or less gazpacho in inspiration. Crispy calamari is worth trying here simply because it’s executed so well. First of all, the calamari are small and delicate, cloaked in an almost crystalline batter that’s crunchy and very light. He’s updated the dish with an aioli made with togarashi, the Japanese dried chili, and an Asian curtido, or slaw. The Maryland blue crab cake is superb too, made with big chunks of the flavorful crab meat barely bound together to form a cake taller than it’s wide. I love the garnish of a deep-fried “wheel” of lemon and polka dots of aioli.

Bottom line: This guy can cook. He came up through the French restaurant apprenticeship program and was trained as both a cook and a pastry chef. He’s also someone who seems to thrive on work. At lunch, he’s busy whipping up specials. He’s added a takeout counter, a jazz brunch and the occasional Southern barbecue night on Sundays. Far from overwhelmed, he actually looks like he’s having fun.

He trusts his own sensibilities more than what’s in fashion. His dishes are balanced and sensual. Take swordfish Nicoise, its dense slab of East Coast fish set off by bits of soft garlicky eggplant and roasted peppers, accented with dark olives and a slick of salsa verde. Black bass is crisp-skinned, moist and flavorful underneath, and sits on a beautiful cauliflower puree garnished with a caramelized floret.

One night the next table is in a huff because of a long wait for a dark chocolate lava cake a kid had ordered. Perplexed, the chef comes over to their table to explain. “But we make everything to order so it takes awhile. I want it to be just right.” At that very moment, the cake arrives. It is tasted. Beams all around. To ensure that the poussin is crisp and juicy, he roasts each little bird on the rotisserie to order. It’s worth the short wait.

Pan-fried veal Milanese is pounded very thin and fried to a crisp gold that’s not a bit greasy. He accompanies it with a delicious fingerling potato salad that’s both vinegary and sweet. I’ve learned not to expect much from a grilled veal chop. Most of the time it doesn’t have much flavor; that’s when it’s not dried out. Here, it shows off a long arc of bone. Thick but juicy, it comes with a lovely shell bean ragu with wild mushrooms on top.

In several meals, the only dud is saffron risotto with shrimp and preserved Meyer lemon. It’s a startling deep gold. The shrimp are meaty and delicious, but the risotto is so rich it’s hard to want more than a bite. The rice is awash in too much butter, too much cheese. The French just don’t seem to understand that the rice should be the star.

Klein makes his own desserts, and they’re very good. I’m still thinking of the peach Melba made with the last of the season’s peaches. It was served in a martini glass with ribbons of mint, vanilla ice cream and fat raspberries.

Now there’s a sumptuous pear upside-down cake shot through with ginger and crowned with caramelized ginger ice cream. And lemon grass rice pudding spooned between thin, lacy coconut tuiles.

The turnaround at Maple Drive shows what can happen when a chef full of good ideas gets the chance to run with them. I can’t wait to see what he’ll do next.

*

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Maple Drive

Rating: ***

Location: 345 N. Maple Drive, Beverly Hills; (310) 274-9800.

Ambience: Sleek contemporary space with a large bar and an outdoor patio sheltered by tropical plants. Lunch brings in an industry crowd. It’s quieter at dinner, when a pianist or small combo plays cool jazz.

Service: Attentive but sometimes stiff.

Price: Dinner appetizers, $8 to $19; main courses, $15 to $31; desserts, $9. Lunch prices are slightly lower.

Best dishes: Chilled shrimp soup, potato and Swiss chard soup, crispy calamari, Maryland blue crab cake, black bass with raisin-caper sauce, whole rotisseried poussin, prime veal rib chop, veal Milanese, lemon grass rice pudding, peach Melba, pear upside-down cake.

Wine list: A mix of the predictable with a handful of surprising and interesting choices. Corkage $15.

Best table: One of the booths along the back wall.

Special features: Live jazz most nights.

Details: Open for lunch Monday through Friday, 11:30 a.m. to 2:45 p.m. Dinner Monday through Saturday, 6 to 10 p.m. Sunday brunch, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Full bar. Valet parking, $4.50.

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.