A trip to bountiful

Come the holidays, come the relatives, and the question of where to take the whole bunch out to dinner. The problem becomes more acute as your Aunt Ollie or Uncle Chester, one lame of foot, the other curmudgeonly of spirit, is added to the intently festive group. You have to keep in mind too that the food can’t be too weird (no sheep’s brains or Rocky Mountain oysters) or too spicy (which leaves out Indian, Thai, Sichuan, Mexican ...). Sigh.

The bathrooms have to pass muster with Grandma, the housewife from hell. And we can’t have dear Uncle Howard going ballistic if the service isn’t up to snuff. Thong- and belly-baring nymphettes are out for Pop ever since his ticker got dodgy. The room has to be quiet enough for Amanda, who is hard of hearing (too many Grateful Dead concerts in her youth) -- which leaves out most of the hot new places.

Trying to negotiate all these requirements and neuroses is enough to induce a world-class headache.

Hotel dining rooms are often the solution; for Angelenos, that frequently means the same ones: the Bel-Air, the Belvedere at the Peninsula, Gardens at the Four Seasons or the Ritz-Carlton, Huntington.

But consider taking a wee jaunt to the Lodge at Torrey Pines in La Jolla. Not only does it have a fine restaurant, it also offers the diversion of the drive, a visit to the Birch Aquarium at Scripps or an opportunity to take in Louis I. Kahn’s design for the Salk Institute for Biological Studies.

The setting is drop-dead gorgeous, at the edge of Torrey Pines State Reserve, a wildly beautiful stretch of woodlands, trails and undeveloped beaches. The resort overlooks adjacent Torrey Pines Golf Course, one of the finest public courses in the country; beyond the green is the blue Pacific.

Don’t let the guy in the Scottish kilt in the circular drive out front put you off. I can just imagine how cold he must be, standing outside all night, affably opening car doors and welcoming guests to the Lodge. With our battered station wagon, we’d never be mistaken for golf tourists or well-heeled hotel regulars. He guessed correctly: dinner at A.R. Valentien.

OK, I admit it’s a little tough to roll that one off your tongue. It helps to know that the restaurant is named for the San Diego painter Albert Robert Valentien, an early 20th century Impressionist known for his exquisitely detailed botanical watercolors. Some of his works are in the Scripps collection; others hang in the dining room.

Instead of the palatial and grandiose, the Lodge at Torrey Pines goes for the intimate and warm. Walking into the lobby is like walking into a gracious country house hotel. Dark woodwork glows in the soft light of a stained-glass lamp; rocking chairs are pulled up to the fireplace. The style is updated California Craftsman, and it’s quite handsome for something that was built only recently. There’s nothing snooty about the place, which keeps a low profile. Ties are not required.

Naming a restaurant after a painter has become a boring fashion with hotels and resorts. But at least A.R. Valentien has some connection to La Jolla. A glass case holds items that belonged to the artist, like the letter announcing he’d won a medal at the Paris Exhibition of 1900.

That little pretension aside, Valentien is unusual for a luxury resort restaurant. The designer has gone for the cozy and comfortable over the imposing and grandiose.

I love the warmth of the dining room, with its dark wood paneling, claret-colored velvet booths and those ravishing watercolors of cactuses and cistus flowers lining the walls. Servers are decked out in white shirts with high-buttoned brocade vests and black ties. The only jarring note: the garish green stained-glass hanging lamps that look like bad Tiffany reproductions. The crowd, though, is wonderfully eclectic: golfers and their buddies, academics from UC San Diego, tourists doing the coast, dates snuggling, families meeting over dinner. Next to us one night, a father takes his two grown sons to dinner, and learns a little about California Pinot from the son who’s deep into wine. The dialogue could have come straight from the film “Sideways.”

The kitchen is, of course, California cuisine, but closer in style to Chez Panisse than to haute hotel food. What’s unusual for a hotel restaurant is the quality of the ingredients culled from local farms and purveyors. When you’ve got produce this fresh and good, pretty much all the chef has to do is not ruin it. Instead of offering a long page-turner of overly ambitious dishes, executive chef Jeff Jackson, who previously worked in Santa Monica at Shutters on the Beach, keeps it short and seasonal.

As a first course, beautifully cooked Maine lobster, just a few morsels, really, looks beautiful against wedges of earthy, sweet ruby and Chioggia beets striped with pink. The combination makes complete sense, once you taste it. A duo of Hudson Valley foie gras pairs a thin scallop of seared foie with a sliver of rosy terrine de foie gras served close to room temperature to bring out all its flavor. The foil to all that silky richness is a bouquet of watercress and julienned red wine-poached pears in a mustardy dressing.

Jackson and chef de cuisine Timothy Au understand that risotto should be about the rice, not the butter or cheese. Theirs plays the firm pearly grains of Anson Mills rice from South Carolina against slender asparagus spears and fragrant chanterelle mushrooms accented with flat parsley. For my taste, the risotto is just a touch dry, though: It could have used another spoonful of broth.

Tuna carpaccio is a pleasant variation on the craze that Harry Cipriano started in Venice with his beef carpaccio. Think of it as Italian sashimi, here topped with fried capers and flat leaf parsley, the creamy fresh horseradish sauce neatly tucked away beneath the raw fish.

Every time I’ve ordered sturgeon in a restaurant, it’s been dry and more or less tasteless. But Valentien’s, which comes cut very thick, is as moist as a sturgeon could possibly be. It’s a quality piece of fish, wonderful with the juicy, fat borlotti beans that come with it. Swordfish, listed as harpoon-caught, is also one of the better versions I’ve had. It’s given a southern French twist with a dab of basil pistou, delicious with its accompaniments of tender baby fennel and crimson turnips.

Roast chicken is always a good test of a restaurant, because there’s nowhere to hide, as there would be with a sauced dish. And Valentien’s organic bird is as moist and flavorful as any I’ve had. Served with cannellini beans, roasted peppers and braised greens, it’s so good it even eclipses the duck. That’s not to say that the duck isn’t perfectly fine, though. The breast is served in thick rosy slices, while the leg is confit, dark and salty, its skin fried to a deep gold.

Every dish has its own palette of vegetables, which we all try. But when the waiter brings out the chef’s vegetable of the night in an oval casserole, it’s hard to resist scarfing up spoonfuls of the fluffy, buttery mixture of sweet corn and shaved asparagus. Finally, somebody with a little imagination when it comes to vegetables.

An enthusiastic young sommelier is eager to recommend the finds on the all-California list, which features small boutique wineries along with the usual big names. He’s unpretentious and not at all intimidating, which makes asking his opinion a pleasure.

In fact, the entire wait staff provides some of the best service I’ve had recently. Someone is always there when you need something, but no one hovers or pours water every other minute. These waiters aren’t acteurs manques. They’re probably graduate students, and they approach their job with the same kind of seriousness that they might give to their studies.

Another option is the chef’s tasting menu, which changes almost daily and offers two choices for the first and second courses. I loved the graceful amuse one night: a breakfast radish with a splash of sherry vinegar, minced shallots and chives. Celery root and walnut ravioli were simply napped in a sage-infused beurre noisette. Still, these are definitely from the French tradition, rather than the Italian. An Italian would never make ravioli this rich.

Then it was a choice of Guerrero Negro scallops from Mexico -- sweet sweet sweet, braised and smothered with marinated porcinis and thyme, or Alaskan halibut cheeks with braised leeks and potatoes. As the meat course, you could have rack of lamb with persimmon chutney (another interesting combination) or a comforting dish of braised veal cheeks with spaghetti squash.

A warm cheese croquette comes with the tasting menu, but you can also order a plate of artisanal and farmhouse cheeses. Wisely, they keep the selection small, so they’re all in top form.

And for dessert, the galette is a lovely swirl of alternating slices of pear and persimmon. What could be more fully of the season? Late-season strawberries from Harry’s Berries appear layered in a feuillete that’s not as light as some. And our waiter was more into the rocky road cake than I was. Maybe I missed the marshmallows?

More than the food, I remember visiting with everyone at our table. We felt so comfortable tucked into one of the booths that the conversation unfurled leisurely, meandered and came back to where we started. And while dining at Valentien is not going to be a do or die proposition for avid foodies, the cooking is thoughtful and well-executed. The entire evening is unusually pleasant. Everybody’s family is difficult in its own way, but Valentien has the means to soothe the savage beasts.

*

A.R. Valentien

Rating: **

Location: The Lodge at Torrey Pines, 11480 N. Torrey Pines Road, La Jolla; (858) 453-4420; reservations (800) 656-0087

Ambience: Craftsman-style restaurant in a luxe golf resort

Service: Professional and unobtrusive

Price: Appetizers, $9 to $16; entrees, $28 to $38; cheese course, $8; desserts, $8; tasting menu, $65 per person, $95 with wines

Best dishes: Chanterelle and asparagus risotto, warm lobster with beets, wild sturgeon, pear and persimmon galette

Wine list: All California. Corkage, $25.

Details: Open Monday through Friday for breakfast, 6 to 11 a.m.; lunch, 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.; and dinner, 5:30 to 10:30 p.m. Saturday and Sunday for breakfast, 6:30 to 11:30 a.m.; lunch, noon to 2:30 p.m.; and dinner, 5:50 to 10:30 p.m. Full bar. Valet parking complimentary with dinner.

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.