An Olive for the Terminally Cool

This week, the hippest restaurant in Los Angeles is called Olive, or The Olive, depending on whom you ask. Last week, it was known as Tiny’s, which was appropriate because the restaurant is run by the people who put together the grunge-hip Hollywood bar Small’s. (Also, the restaurant is tiny--just a bar and fewer than 20 tables.)

One more thing: Tiny’s Olive wants to be an underground restaurant, which means the phone number is unlisted and when you call, you’re politely asked for references (vague mumblings about “a friend” usually do). Of course, there is no sign on the purposely nondescript building, which once was the Pigalle restaurant and is practically in the parking lot of the Farmer’s Daughter motel across the street from Farmers Market.

Inside Olive, the very cool might munch on a Brie sandwich as the Audrey Horne music from “Twin Peaks” plays over the sound system. A deep-toned multicolored Harlequin pattern covers some of the walls, paintings of Ghandi, Stalin and other world figures are lined above the red leatherette booths. Dress is Hollywood-cool, which means that jeans and a sloppy shirt are OK, as long as you’re the kind of person who can pull off a look like that and still be beautiful.

On the menu are things like pork chops and filet mignon and omelets. One night the fish dish might be seared tuna, arranged on the plate like shark fins, another night it might be a good piece of salmon. There are vegetable plates and a Caesar salad and sandwiches (smoked chicken breast and a tomato-mozzarella-and-basil). Not all the food is good, but some of it is, and besides, food isn’t why most people go to Olive. The chef is Fred Eric, who used to cook at the now-defunct Flaming Colossus underground nightclub, so he knows his audience. Olive, 156 S. Fairfax Ave. (Farmer’s Daughter motel), Los Angeles; (213) 939-2001.