Cachet to spare

Beyond the windows is the constellation of L.A., a razzle-dazzle of lights that extends all the way to the Pacific. For a city where most of the restaurants look inward, the view from the new Central is no parched glimpse. It stretches the length of a football field, along a glassed-in terrace with a retractable roof, wrapping the city around you. Talk about glamour.

The only other way to bask in the spectacular view from the hills around Sunset has been from a few choice seats at Asia de Cuba or Fenix at the Argyle. Or Yamashiro, where you went for a drink, but never for dinner. But Central’s sprawling panorama has them all trumped.

With virtually no presence on the street (the entrance is at the back of the Sunset Millennium complex on the Strip, next to the posh Equinox gym), Central has the cachet of a speak-easy known only to the cognoscenti. You park in the garage underneath, come up the escalator to a virtually empty mall, and slip into an elevator.

The doors open onto that dramatic view and a dining room that runs about 170 feet in front of that glassed-in terrace. Maybe because of the space, which is very grand, and the fact that it’s so much about the scene, it feels like La Coupole, the Paris brasserie. It keeps similarly late hours too. That may be why I find myself wanting to pronounce it Centrale, as if it were French.

If location were everything, you wouldn’t be able to get a reservation at Central. Or any of the other restaurants in the same complex. The Sunset Millennium’s developer has wooed -- and won -- a trio of high-end restaurants for the project. The mall, just west of La Cienega, harbors the West Coast version of Norman’s from Florida’s star chef Norman Van Aken, one of the most sophisticated dining spots to open in L.A. (or, to be precise, West Hollywood) in a long while. Then there’s Rika, a design-conscious Japanese restaurant with a futuristic bar and sushi menu that features progressive sushi from the likes of locally trained sushi chef Tracy Griffith. And now Central from the Long brothers, who’ve been involved in the Roxbury and Atlantic, both venues better known for the clubby atmosphere and glitzy crowd than for any dining epiphanies.

Designed by Madonna’s brother Christopher Ciccone, who also designed the now defunct Atlantic, Central has the classic good looks of a private club. Crisp white linens are thrown over the tables lined up along that view of night sky spangled with stars. Lavender topiary clipped like poodles scent the air. And at the back, a row of indulgent booths with high backs covered in wide green and beige stripes tempt diners who don’t have their noses pressed to the glass with something more intimate.

Most people arrive with a posse of friends, ready to take over one of the big round tables in the middle of the room, start table hopping and getting down to the serious business of partying. Women walk the length of the room, turning it into a catwalk, as they sashay down to the outdoor balcony at the end for a smoke or some girl talk.

Inside, it’s a happy clamor of schmoozing and laughter. It’s not just one vibe, but more an intersection of worlds. Think the Le Dome crowd crossed with the group that used to hang out at the French bistro Cafe Maurice on La Cienega, or Atlantic. The mix of ages and ethnicities is unusual. It all works when the Long brothers -- Bob and John -- are on the scene, circulating affably. Between the two, they seem to know just about everybody who steps out of the elevator. (But when they’re not there, as has sometimes happened during the week, it can seem like nobody’s home. Not good.)

The bar is happy to keep things rolling with perfectly made Manhattans and Cosmopolitans. There’s no view from the bar, but it compensates with a wall of framed mirrors and an enveloping red theme. It’s actually pretty cozy back there, especially for anybody who suffers from vertigo or fear of large spaces. The bartender one night is the most personable person I encounter all night. Not that the waiters aren’t professional, but with some of them the water or the cocktail hustle is too ingrained and obvious. And the owners collude by charging $7.50 for a bottle of water, one of the higher tariffs I’ve encountered recently.

The kitchen weighs in with up-to-the-minute, but not very soulful contemporary American cuisine. Though chef Jamie DeRosa, who has worked with Wolfgang Puck, among others, gamely adds his own fillips to all-too-familiar dishes, the result is more like decent hotel food than anything original or compelling. He’s doing his job, getting the food out in a timely fashion, everything hot, nicely plated. If you’re looking for stellar dining, Central is not the place. That would be Norman’s. Funny thing, though prices are not all that different, there’s more of a crowd for Central’s predictable fare than Norman’s much more exciting Floridian-Caribbean cuisine. Go figure.

DeRosa dips into the small plates craze by dubbing the appetizers “shared plates.” The most easily shared is oyster and shimeji mushrooms “calamari-style,” i.e., lightly battered and fried and served with crunchy pickled Japanese cucumbers. These mushrooms have much more flavor than the usual calamari and are wonderful with drinks. Mussels steamed in white wine with shallots and a whiff of rosemary are a good bet too, as are the iced oysters on the half shell with a spunky sherry and shallot dipping sauce. Better get a dozen, because the price per oyster only dips below the $2 mark when you order by the dozen.

Pastas are a little heavy-handed, though. Mushroom tortellini could really be called tortelloni, they’re so large. Venus would have to have had a very large belly button for these to be modeled after her beauteous navel. The mushroom duxelles filling is nice, even though the pasta itself is awfully thick. The same goes for the agnolotti, obviously inspired by Lee Hefter’s much more ethereal ones at Spago. Here, for the big spenders, they come with French black truffles shaved sparingly over the top. The pasty risotto should be avoided.

Look around the room. Who’s having salad? All those svelte and yearning-to-be-svelte babes. That must be why the menu offers half a dozen choices, from a signature chopped vegetable salad or baby organic greens strewn with hazelnuts and dressed in a nicoise tapenade to an extravagant 12-layer baby beet and goat cheese salad that looks like Cartier did the plating. The presentation is intricate, the portion small: perfect for the ladies who prefer to toy with their food rather than eat. The chef is making an effort to accommodate, and some of the salads, like the beet salad, are better than expected.

DeRosa is also into soups. The current menu offers three, all of which get the asterisk indicating vegetarian or vegan items. Winter mushroom soup is a rich and delicious puree of domestic button mushrooms that reminds me of one of the late Elizabeth David’s lovely soups.

When it comes to the main courses, the menu reads too much like every other progressive American menu in town.

You’ve got your short ribs with polenta, osso buco, Jidori chicken, Kobe steak. The latter costs a whopping $38 and comes already sliced off the bone. To my mind, Kobe beef doesn’t make such a great steak. Its virtue is its tenderness more than its flavor, making it this season’s filet mignon: steak for people who don’t like to chew.

DeRosa is good with fish. Both the New Zealand John Dory and a roasted red snapper are skillfully cooked and presented with sides that really complement the seafood. The John Dory comes with a dreamy celery root puree and a three bean salad, while the red snapper arrives with baby cauliflower and roasted fingerling potatoes.

Desserts play the crowd with familiar favorites but don’t always deliver; they seem to pull their punches. Warm chocolate cake is middle-of-the-road, without that jolt of deep, dark chocolate that makes it irresistible to chocoholics. Apple crisp is made with Fuji apple, which doesn’t have an assertive enough flavor. Of course, there’s the standard creme brulee. But why strawberry shortcake? In the middle of winter? Why bother with pale, tasteless strawberries and a dry shortcake that has more in common with biscotti than a true shortcake? Save your calories.

But the food’s not really the point at Central. You can close your eyes and point at pretty much anything on the menu and you’ll get something decent, if unexciting. It’s not unlike Morton’s, the West Hollywood clubhouse for the industry crowd where the food goes unnoticed by design.

La Coupole doesn’t rack up the Michelin points, but it reels in Parisian tourists all night long. On a good night, Central has the same kind of energy and expansive spirit. It’s the all-purpose, ongoing party. Stop in for a drink, for some oysters, for dinner. And to bask in that nonstop view. Come spring -- which could be as early as next week with this kind of weather -- the terrace roof is going to roll back, the windows will open and Central is going to own one of the city’s great outdoor spaces.

*

Central

Rating: *

Location: Sunset Millennium, 8590 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, (310) 659-0092.

Ambience: Sprawling Sunset Strip restaurant and bar with nonstop view of city lights, a dedicated party crowd and California cuisine from chef Jamie DeRosa.

Service: From gracious and attentive to robotic.

Price: Appetizers, $8 to $26; main courses, $24 to $38; sides, $7; desserts, $7.

Best dishes: Steamed mussels, oyster and shimeji mushrooms “calamari style,” iced East Coast oysters, winter mushroom soup, 12-layer baby beet salad, John Dory with celery root puree, slow-cooked beef short ribs, warm chocolate souffle cake.

Wine list: Better choices than at most trendy places. Excellent mixology too. Corkage, $22.

Best table: One by the windows.

Special features: Retractable roof opens the huge terrace to the sky on warm nights.

Details: Open for dinner 6 p.m. to 12:30 a.m., Tuesday through Thursday; 6 p.m. to 1:30 a.m. Friday and Saturday. Closed Sunday. Full bar. Valet parking, $10.

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.