The ocean at its doorstep

On a balmy summer night, the idea of taking a drive up the coast and stopping somewhere for dinner is irresistible. We crave a restaurant right on the sand, if possible, where we can smell the salt tang along with our steamed mussels and grilled fish, where we can take in every nuance of the setting sun from the comfort of our table, and afterward, walk along the shore in the moonlight.

But then where do you eat that has a view of sea and sand, not a parking lot, and where the food is actually edible?

Now there is a place, but you don’t see it as you’re driving up Pacific Coast Highway. Just north of Point Dume, before the Zuma sign, turn left down the winding narrow road, skirting the cliffs of Point Dume on the left and the shore on the right, and you’ll find the Sunset Restaurant. Newly opened on Zuma Beach in what used to be the Gray Whale, the Sunset is right on the beach. Just pull over and park on the sandy road alongside or in the restaurant’s lot. The beach in front is a little wild, not overrun, and sometimes the dolphins put on a show for anybody who’s watching.

It’s a serene, almost isolated spot, focused more on the ocean than the road. In fact, you can’t see or hear PCH from the restaurant. Locals are walking their dogs in front, or picking up their blankets and beach gear and heading home at dusk. A car pulls up and parks; a group of friends spills out, dressed in beach casual, and heads into the bar on the ground level.

The two-story building is not an architectural gem by any means. It’s as boxy and nondescript as they come, but who cares when the Pacific is right in front with no highway to separate you from the view. The new owner, the Malibu Restaurant Group (which also owns Allegria and Moonshadows), has concentrated its efforts on creating an inviting interior and introducing a California-Mediterranean menu with a few exotic flourishes.

The Sunset Restaurant is never going to be a destination restaurant in the terms that the Michelin guide understands it -- for food so phenomenally good it’s worth making a detour. But here, with the ocean at its doorstep and that nonstop view, it only needs to be decent. The Sunset’s food, in fact, is much better than most restaurants anywhere near the coast. And it’s quite reasonably priced -- surprising in a neighborhood that counts Cher, Johnny Carson, Barbra Streisand and a host of other celebrities as residents. The ground-level bar has comfy cushions and divans for lounging, upholstered in indigo and white stripes for a cool, clean, beachy look. Moroccan lanterns and candles provide the soft lighting. Usually you can see a clutch of locals and a couple of the owners hanging out there, sipping summery cocktails. They’ve just redesigned a party room too, with a tented cloth ceiling, more beds for lounging and pots and pots of giant bird of paradise. Sometimes it’s used as an extension of the bar, other times as a private room.

Some people never make it to the restaurant upstairs, preferring to linger downstairs over drinks and a flurry of appetizers from the dinner menu. Squiggles of pale, slightly crunchy fried squid come dusted in coriander, the better to dip in mayonnaise showered with feathery dill. The Malibu lettuce wrap is iceberg lettuce cups heaped with a Thai-inspired mix of moist sauteed chicken, red peppers, scallions and peanuts. The flavors are clean and fresh, but may seem too tame if you’re used to gutsier ethnic versions.

But you’re here to dine. A hostess will take your party up in the elevator, which, despite the remodel, still looks like a transplant from a tacky motel. The light’s so ghoulish that out of embarrassment, we spend the ride with our eyes glued to our feet.

Be patient. Upstairs are two cozy dining rooms, where, if you’re lucky, a table right by the window is waiting. Dine early, and you can revel in the sun setting over the ocean. It looks close enough to touch. The windows, however, don’t open, so the cool breeze is provided by an air conditioner turned to Chinese restaurant-level chilliness. Bring something to throw over your shoulders just in case.

The personable manager is a real host, explaining the menu, talking about the changes, and making everyone feel exceptionally welcome. He’s also something of a wine buff, commenting on the selections and promising each time that a Captain’s List is in the works to supplement the undistinguished regular list. In addition to the menu, he’ll tell you about the handful of specials.

So far, the Sunset has kept a local profile, with few tourists or people from outside Malibu making it all the way to Zuma Beach. Painted butter yellow, the two dining rooms have a relaxed and vaguely nautical look, with beach-themed art, potted tropical plants and banquettes upholstered in navy, white and yellow striped fabric. It’s an easygoing place, where locals drop in for dinner, with kids, or meet friends for a bite. Many of the regulars look like they’ve just stepped off a yacht, the women, more blonds than brunets, in capris and gold sandals, with deep real or faked tans, the men in blazers and Gucci loafers. Not many teetotalers in the bunch: Cocktails and wine are on almost every table. But the feeling is relaxed and congenial, more neighborhood restaurant than showplace.

The food is basically updated California-Mediterranean. It’s not brilliant cooking, but stick with the basics and you have a good chance of eating pretty well.

Salad basics

Caesar salad is perfectly fine, ribbons of romaine lettuce in a creamy-style dressing that mimics the real thing, but without the raw egg yolk that has been practically outlawed. The croutons are crunchy, the lettuce crisp. What’s not to like? There’s also a towering salad of Bibb lettuce topped with asparagus in a pistachio-Parmesan vinaigrette that is pleasant enough and big enough for dinner if that’s what you’re into. Cuban black bean soup is a smooth puree of blue-black beans with a touch of mild-mannered pico de gallo salsa that packs very little heat, and a swirl of crema fresca.

When you can get a carb-less Kobe beef burger for $15 -- in Malibu -- that’s kind of remarkable. And it’s actually one of the best things on the menu. The flavorful beef comes sandwiched between two portabello mushroom caps that look like toasted buns. Add whatever fixings you like, and it’s a satisfying, if virtuous, burger. Short ribs braised in Pinot Noir are a bargain at $17 too. They’re falling-off-the-bone tender, and though the sauce is sweeter than I’d like, they make a fine supper, served with roasted baby root vegetables and mashed potatoes.

Hold the crab cake appetizers, though. They’re glazed in a barbecue sauce that tastes of raw heat and sugar, making it hard to taste the crab. Heirloom tomato soup, a special one night, tastes like a bowl of hot tomato sauce.

If you have a hankering for steak, the Sunset comes through with prime specials, such as a recent rib-eye. It came just as ordered: charred and medium-rare. My friend proceeded to grab some butter and spread it on top, giving his steak a Ruth’s Chris gloss of butter flavor. Another night, though, the baseball-cut sirloin, also prime, came out more medium than medium-rare, and I had a similar experience with the Colorado lamb sirloin.

There’s also a rack of pork for less than $20. Thick and meaty, it’s a handsome cut, but you’ll have to like sweet with your meat, because this one comes glazed with maple syrup and is accompanied by an apple compote. I like that none of the sides seems to repeat. You might get risotto, or mashed potatoes, or roasted root vegetables, while somebody else has broccolini or fingerling potatoes.

One night we drank a Lageder Pinot Grigio, a wonderful summer-weight wine from Italy’s Alto Adige region. It went beautifully with steamed black mussels in a green Thai curry sauce. The mussels were tasty, the broth strong, but the Thai curry thing was so discreet as to be almost undetectable.

Moroccan spiced salmon roulade doesn’t translate well either, or at least not on the night I tried it. The Moroccan flavors could have been more defined, and the fish, unfortunately, was overcooked.

But a cioppino special was, as cioppino goes, pretty good, brimful of mussels, clams, monkfish, shrimp and more in a rich broth redolent of garlic.

It’s interesting how quiet the room gets as the sun sets. Of course this puts one in the mood for more wine, and then dessert. They’re all homemade, but even so, they don’t particularly shine. Warm lava cake is good if you think of it more as a moist brownie than a wet chocolate cake. The best of the lot is the Gala apple tarte Tatin. Especially if you ignore the pale floury crust and too much sugar and just focus on that dreamy sunset.

And after, you can take a walk on that beautiful, lonely shore under a moonlit sky.

*

The Sunset Restaurant

Rating: *

Location: 6800 Westward Beach Road, Malibu; (310) 589-1007, fax (310) 589-1008, www.thesunsetrestaurant.com.

Ambience: Laid-back bar and restaurant steps from Zuma Beach gets a local crowd for drinks and appetizers and a moderately priced (for Malibu) California menu.

Service: Friendly and warm, if sometimes inexperienced

Price: Appetizers, $6.25 to $12.95; main courses, $15 to $28.75; desserts, $6.95 to $7.50.

Best dishes: Cuban black bean soup, Malibu lettuce wraps, fried calamari, roasted asparagus salad, braised beef short ribs, carb-less Kobe beef burger, prime rib-eye steak, Gala apple tarte Tatin

Wine list: Mostly uninspired, but with a few interesting bottles. Corkage, $12.

Best table: One right in front of the windows with a view of sea and sky

Special features: An expanded Moroccan-themed lounge for private parties

Details: Open for dinner from 5 to 10 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday, 5 to 9:30 p.m. Sunday; and for lunch from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday with brunch specials on Saturday and Sunday. Full bar. Lot and beach parking; $2.50 valet on the weekend.

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.