A Hollywood spot for the rest of us

The light changes and the four of us streak across Highland Avenue, laughing. Our shoes are swamped. My jacket is leaking water, but it’s rain! The first of the season, and it’s beautiful. We breathe in the smells of eucalyptus, winter jasmine, dusty pavement and exhaust. Across the street, the neon Aron’s Records sign blazes yellow and red through the drizzle.

This is Hollywood, but without the glamour of the movie studios, stretch limos, caviar and Champagne. It’s the fringes of Hollywood, workaday Hollywood, lined with post-production facilities -- film labs and soundstages and editing bays -- and the warehouses where grips and propmasters pick up equipment. That’s it, I yell out to the stragglers -- the dark green awning. That’s Ammo.

But the entrance seems to have shifted to the left. What’s this? A podium and an actual maitre d’? The last time I was here -- and it wasn’t all that long ago -- it was find your own table, thank you very much. And if I remember correctly, they were covered in paper, not white linen.

Ammo started out as a minuscule takeout counter and catering operation that fed hordes of film and production workers in the neighborhood.

Its motto? Fuel for thought. The movie business means long hours and relentless pressure, so it’s no surprise these people can really pack it in at mealtime.

In the beginning, chef/owner Amy Sweeney’s food seemed more filling and healthy than flat-out delicious -- politically correct lentil salad with beets and goat cheese, sandwiches piled high with grilled veggies, blueberry smoothies.

Over the last few years, Ammo has been a work in progress, adding on when it could, and constantly editing its stylishly funky downtown look. One day you’d walk in and find a new bench or banquette, the pillows recovered, or the lonely outdoor tables mysteriously multiplying into a proper sidewalk terrace.

But now I hardly recognize the place: It’s a whole new restaurant, much more ambitious and sophisticated than the original, authentically cool.

Spare, modernist booths upholstered in bottle-green velvet line the pale oak veneer walls. Bare Edison light bulbs, their filaments glowing like fireflies, hang from industrial fixtures. A Rube Goldberg affair of pipes and ducts sprouting dials has been painted white and left like a sculpture in the corner of the bar, along a wall of windows framed in steel.

Light on the glitz

The crowd seems to be photographers, assistants, craftspeople and production people, mixed in with the occasional model or actor. Not a suit in sight -- it isn’t glitzy enough for agents or studio execs. Just look at the rides pulling up outside: more offbeat than luxurious, with vintage trumping trophy vehicles every time. At the bar, which is new, assorted barflies and hipsters occupy the handful of lipstick red stools. Tattoos flirt from beneath shrink-wrap-tight clothing. The liquor display is a minimalist affair, a shelf lined with spirits and cocktail makings, the glasses stored in cubby holes. In its earliest incarnation, you were lucky to squeeze into a little corner banquette for lunch, or nab one of the two or three tables outside. Now Ammo feels grown-up.

It’s no longer lunch-centric, but someplace to go at night that’s ever so slightly noirish. You can hang at the bar drinking classic cocktails or cozy up over dinner in a candlelit booth. It’s still more supper than elegant dinner, in keeping with the neighborhood and the crowd, and Sweeney, who turns out a small, well-executed menu of updated comfort food has added a woodburning pizza oven. Nothing about her cooking is showy or daring, but it is always appealing, and at night it feels more like supper than elegant dinner, in keeping with the neighborhood.

Take her pizzas. The crust is thin, crisped at the edges, flavorful on its own, even before she adds the toppings. For once, Margherita or any of the usual roster doesn’t have a starring role. Baby artichoke pizza embellished with Gaeta olives from Liguria, a thin blanket of fontina and pert sprigs of watercress is terrific. So is the one strewn with caramelized escarole and sweet onions with a fried egg (and a very good one) dead center.

The bruschetta is a rustic bread, toasted and here topped with sweet-salty prosciutto di San Daniele, locally made burrata (basically fresh mozzarella with a heart of cream) and some emerald arugula leaves. Good idea, now that tomato season is winding down.

Salads are fresh and focused. Instead of piling on the ingredients, they can be as simple as butter lettuce dressed with a drizzle of green-old extra-virgin olive oil, a squeeze of lemon and some sea salt. I also like the slightly bitter radicchio salad punched up with a few boquerones, that is, Spanish anchovies marinated in vinegar. But Ammo also has one of the better warm seafood salads around, again because the ingredients are first-rate and preparation is kept simple.

Depending on the night, it could be grilled calamari, charred at the edges, with scallops and shrimp and a few baby artichokes.

Main courses are as basic as American Apparel T-shirts. No fireworks, but good, solid cooking. Dry-aged Kansas City steak is a nice piece of beef, chewy and flavorful, and comes with a seductive square of potato gratin. Now that’s supper.

This crowd isn’t looking for lobster or foie gras or truffles. They work, and something earthier is in order, like roasted pork shoulder with caramelized Fuji apples, homey polenta and sauteed red chard. Roast chicken is quite decent too. Instead of a puny breast, you get an entire half, organic, of course, escorted by a bread and frisee salad dotted with pine nuts.

Jazzed-up pasta

Pastas temper California exuberance with Italian restraint. Pappardelle are folded over on themselves and sauced in a richly meaty Bolognese, with some eggplant and olives thrown in to jazz it up. Ravioli stuffed with spinach and mascarpone are sensibly napped in brown butter and sage. Rigatoni revels in heirloom zucchini, along with spinach and fresh ricotta. And anybody who wants to just veg out can look to the sides for some delicious options.

At lunch, sandwiches rule. Ammo’s burger -- beef or turkey -- is the hands-down star. Sweeney found the perfect bun somewhere, not too hard, not too soft, and serves her burger with sharp cheddar, a slice of tomato, and avocado for a California touch.

She makes a fine grilled ham and Gruyere sandwich dressed up with caramelized shallots too. A peppered skirt steak panini sandwiched with cheese, though, is heavy and unappetizingly greasy.

And for dessert, who wouldn’t fall for the trio of ice cream sandwiches? Chocolate cookies paired with mint ice cream, butter cookies with strawberry and vanilla. If you decide to share, you’ll be sorry.

Warm, bitter chocolate pudding cake served in a fluted white porcelain dish is eminently sharable, though. Not quite a souffle, not quite a cake, it’s fluid as pudding in the center, and dark, dark, dark.

One more to ponder: the rustic apple tart, a swirl of tart-sweet apples on a short buttery crust, softly whipped cream and caramel sauce. Just about perfect.

Especially for a place where workaday Hollywood dines. Which is as it should be. Ammo is so low-key, the suits and glamour pusses wouldn’t get it anyway. That’s fine: It leaves this homey boho spot to the rest of us.

*

Ammo

Rating: **

Location: 1155 N. Highland Ave., Los Angeles; (323) 871-2666; www.ammocafe.com

Ambience: Spare, modernist cafe with upholstered booths, bar with a few seats and large table that can be curtained off for private parties. The crowd is Hollywood bohemian.

Service: Attentive and friendly

Price: Dinner appetizers, $8 to $15; main courses, $24 to $32; desserts, $8 to $9; lunch appetizers, $7 to $17; pizzas, $14; sandwiches, $11 to $12; entrees, $11 to $17; brunch dishes, $9 to $15.

Best dishes: Baby artichoke pizza, caramelized escarole pizza, grilled seafood salad, pappardelle with Bolognese sauce, burger with shoestring fries, grilled ham and cheese sandwich, dry-aged Kansas City steak, roasted pork shoulder, rustic apple tart, ice cream sandwiches.

Wine list: Eclectic and well-edited, with more than 15 wines by the glass. Corkage, $15.

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

Details: Open for lunch from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Monday through Friday; for dinner from 6 to 10 p.m. Monday through Thursday and from 6 to 11 p.m. Friday and Saturday; and for brunch from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. Full bar.

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.