French for the rest of us

THESE days, L.A. is a tough place to be if you’re a food-loving Francophile. Oh, sure, there’s a creperie every fourth freeway exit and Disneyland-style French food at Morels at the Grove. And, yes, if you’re Bill or Melinda Gates, you can buy terrific, well-tended French cheeses at any number of fromageries. Well, maybe not any number. Maybe three. But go out looking for charcuterie, and it’s just salumi, salumi, salumi as far as the eye can see. Jambon de Bayonne? Fuggeddaboudit.

You can count on one hand the number of French chefs cooking French food in French restaurants here in the City of Angels -- where once, in 1860, 600 of the 5,000 inhabitants were French. Jean Francois Meteigner comes to mind, bien sur; he’ll be celebrating the 12th anniversary of his well-loved Century City French haven La Cachette next month. And there’s Christophe Eme, the former L’Orangerie chef who’s made a splash at Ortolan. But these are, for those of us without expense accounts, special-occasion spots. Wouldn’t it be swell if there were a French spot for the rest of us?

Voila Mimosa. Chef Jean-Pierre Bosc’s spot, which has been quietly pleasing fans of barigoule and ris de veau on Beverly Boulevard since 1997, feels just like a bistro should: warm, friendly, unintimidating, comfortable, inviting. Take a seat on a banquette, and big Mason jars -- one filled with crunchy, tangy cornichons, another with cured black olives -- land on the table. The menu proposes friture d’eperlans “to share before everything.” Eperlans! Now that’s French. The thought of deep-fried smelts with a squeeze of lemon and a dip of cornichon-spiked mayo puts the hungry Francophile in a good mood right off the bat. So what if the night I sample them they’re not quite as hot and crisp as they might be? They’re eperlans! Where else can you even find such a word on the menu?

There’s also the Alsace specialty tarte flambee; pork rillettes (you can keep your mortadella!) and a terrific leeks and lentilles du puy a la vinaigrette. After that, there’s chicken “grand-mere” or steak with frites that give my French grandmother’s a run for the money. Got a yen for hanger steak? Onglet is always on the menu at Mimosa.

But the weekend is when the place gets really French. That’s when bouillabaisse is on special (every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night). The presentation is beautiful. A server brings a steaming caldron to the table, along with soup plates and accouterments. She arranges big prawns, scallops, chunks of monkfish, rock cod and lots of mussels on the plates, then spoons in a heavenly broth, redolent of saffron and fennel and the sea. She arranges some crisp croutons around the plate and presents a little crock of rouille -- that marvelous rusty-colored emulsion of egg and garlic and olive oil and saffron.

But wait, before spreading some rouille onto the croutons and floating them in that gorgeous, fragrant soup, taste the broth. Bosc knows his fish, and he knows what makes a great bouillabaisse. And that means not salmon, not tuna, not lobster, but scorpionfish, rock cod and monkfish. These aren’t the same fish that would go into a bouillabaisse in Marseille -- you can’t get most of those here. But a sip of that broth makes it instantly clear that Bosc has thought long and hard about what best to use in a California bouillabaisse, and why. The broth is deep and layered with flavor; it tastes like Marseille. There’s fennel, sure, but it tastes so right-on it could be wild fennel.

Now go ahead and do the rouille thing, spread those croutons, float those babies on the broth. Now lean forward and smell the bouillabaisse. Mmm. It’s all uphill from here.

The bouillabaisse is not cheap, by Mimosa standards: At $28, it’s tied with cote de boeuf and filet mignon au poivre as the most expensive dishes. But it’s big, and it’s marvelous, and you don’t want it to end. Start with a salad of haricots verts, avocado and preserved lemon, then go for the bouillabaisse. Three people can easily share two orders, and you’ll want a bottle of rose with that.

Best of all, it’s light enough that you should be able to manage fromage -- the platter sitting near the entrance is like a welcome-home sign to the misplaced Francophile -- and maybe even dessert. Tarte aux pommes, anyone?

brenner@latimes.com

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Mimosa

Where: 8009 Beverly Blvd., L.A.

When: 6 to 11 p.m. Mondays through Saturdays. Wine and beer. Valet parking, $4.50.

Price: Appetizers, $8.50 to $14; main courses, $15 to $28; desserts, $7

Info: (323) 655-8895; www.mimosarestaurant.com