Steak, with rare style

The Atkins craze may be beginning to wane, but you wouldn’t know it from the number of steakhouses opening around town, with more in the planning stages.

What gives? Despite vegan fever and cholesterol concerns, beef is still in.

Boa, an offshoot of the original on Sunset Strip, is the latest Santa Monica hot spot; everybody has to be there. At lunch, the room is drenched in light from floor-to-ceiling windows. Come night, light fixtures encased in red and white Lucite cast an eerie glow from far overhead. And in the bar, faced in sculpted geometric white shapes, it looks as if every single or wannabe single on the Westside has congregated for a drink before the siren call of red meat tempts them to the table.

The effect is big and glamorous, life lived large, and the crowd dresses to make an entrance. The shoes, of course, are stiletto, the dresses bare and clinging. But the curious thing is how many of the tables are occupied by one or two guys with four or five women -- obviously the girlfriend and her tag-along friends. From most any vantage point, you can take in the entire room, and there’s plenty of table-hopping going on from one posh leather booth to another.

Four years ago, Balboa, now rechristened Boa, opened in the Grafton Hotel on Sunset Strip and reinvented the steakhouse for a new generation. The owners, who also own the Sushi Roku chain, have moved in on the burgeoning Vegas scene too.

At this dramatic beachfront steakhouse at the corner of Santa Monica Boulevard and Ocean Avenue, waiters will suddenly appear from behind the small grove of driftwood trees planted in the middle of the room as an art installation. Diners who smoke will step outside and vamp through the windows on a rainy night.

In the center of the restaurant, see-through floor-to-ceiling shelves block out the wine room, which has a tall red stepladder standing at the ready should anybody need to fetch a bottle that’s out of reach. Tucked behind is a semiprivate area where a party of music industry insiders or business tycoons may be carrying on at the single large table. But for all the fuss about wine, the list isn’t particularly impressive.

What? Your waiter will shout good-naturedly when you try to order. Me, I’d be stark raving mad after two hours trying to work in this noisy environment, but these servers are unflappably polite and friendly. Whatever the request, the answer is “absolutely,” leaving you to wonder, over and over and over again, how that particular word has come to mean “of course,” or “certainly.”

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The classic wedge

If you know what you want, you don’t even have to glance at the menu. For some, that would be a wedge of iceberg lettuce with a Point Reyes blue cheese dressing or the chilled jumbo shrimp and the best steak in the house: the prime New York strip aged 40 days. That aging doesn’t come cheap. The steak is $39, but this one may be worth it for its rich beefy taste and marvelous chewy but tender texture.

The salad is a particularly good version of the classic “wedge” because the dressing is made from one of California’s best cheeses. And those jumbo shrimp are meaty and firm.

How fun to see oysters Rockefeller on a menu and actually executed well. It’s a dreamy dish for a white Burgundy or one of California’s top Chardonnays. Crab cakes are a steakhouse staple; these are plumped with fresh Dungeness crabmeat, sauteed to a deep gold and presented with a fine basil aioli.

Beef carpaccio, though, seems like an odd appetizer for a steakhouse. Why would anybody want to eat beef and then beef? Though slightly mingy, this version is not too tricked up, garnished with just a flurry of arugula leaves and a little shaved pecorino. Seared foie gras is decent too, though on one occasion it wasn’t trimmed as well as it should have been. A crushed gingersnap crust makes an interesting counterpoint to the fattiness of the liver.

At one table, four women reach toward the towering seafood platter, grabbing at raw oysters and clams, cracking crab claws with their bare hands. But when we order the platter one night, generally $68 depending on the market price, it reeks from three feet away. Something is completely funky, and we’re not going to risk investigating. I’m shocked that nobody in the kitchen noticed. Something like this makes an indelible impression: I couldn’t bring myself to give it another chance.

The current appetizer menu doesn’t seem nearly as inventive as the one at the original in the early days. And other than the wedge, every salad I’ve ordered, from the Boa chop chop to the BLT, has been woefully overdressed, the ingredients obliterated under the salad dressing.

Not all the beef on offer is compelling enough to warrant the prices either. One time you’ll get a good T-bone or rib-eye; on another night, it just doesn’t have that much flavor. Even that vaunted super-aged New York steak isn’t the most reliable performer. Not once did I get a steak of any cut that made enough of an impression that I’d race back. The kitchen doesn’t demonstrate the precision cooking of the guys manning the broiler at Arnie Morton’s or Ruth’s Chris either.

But Boa does have some interesting alternatives for those who have come along for the company yet aren’t particularly interested in eating steak for one reason or another.

I tried the lobster one night, served in the shell with drawn butter. A 2 1/2 -pounder, it was perfectly good, but at $80, it was the most expensive lobster I’ve ever had. At that price, it should have been phenomenal. Salmon was nicely cooked one night. But the star of the “composed entrees” is the trio of Indonesian spiced lamb chops. The spice mix gives the lamb a boost in flavor; the chops are complemented by braised fennel and caramelized cauliflower and a cilantro-laced yogurt sauce.

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Sides head south

Sides, which I remember as terrific at the original Balboa, fall flat too. Soft polenta is doused with truffle oil that has a bouquet more reminiscent of cheap aftershave than real truffles. By some sleight of hand, roasted garlic-whipped potatoes taste as if they were made with instant mashed potatoes, which I’m sure they’re not. Horseradish potato gratin is completely over-the-top rich. And why ruin Yukon gold potatoes with bacon confit and onions? Sauteed mushrooms and garlic green beans are the two saving graces.

Meanwhile, a green blob of something floats past the driftwood trees and lands on the next table. I watch, fascinated, as the crew there pinches off big hunks of the stuff to squeals and giggles. The nostalgia for childhood desserts -- chocolate pudding, s’mores, cookies -- is running right alongside the steak thing, and here it shows up as ... cotton candy. The real thing, only green, like that girl’s hair over there. And like the kind you used to get at the carnival, it melts into sugar on your tongue.

It’s fun while it lasts, but it doesn’t leave much of a lasting impression.

*

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Boa

Rating: * 1/2

Location: 101 Santa Monica Blvd., Santa Monica;

(310) 899-4466

Ambience: Contemporary steakhouse with floor-to- ceiling windows, inviting bar, leather booths and a young urban vibe.

Service: Pleasant and professional

Price: Appetizers, $12 to $17; salads, $8 to $12; “turf,” $26 to $39; “surf,” $27 to $80 for the lobster; composed entrees, $22 to $36; sides, $6 to $7; desserts, $9.

Best dishes: Oysters Rockefeller, Dungeness crab cake, chilled jumbo prawns, the wedge salad, “40 day” dry-aged New York strip, bone-in Kansas City filet mignon, Indonesian spiced lamb chops, hand-cut crispy fries, garlic green beans, mountain of cotton candy, Meyer lemon creme brulee.

Wine list: Big on beef-friendly but pedestrian reds. Corkage $25.

Best table: One of the generous booths

Special features: Semiprivate table for larger groups behind the wine storage tower

Details: Open daily for lunch, 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. and, with revised menu, 3 to 5:30 p.m.; dinner, 5:30 to 11:30 p.m. 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.