After Crate & Barrel, Gruyere and Emmenthal

Where am I?

Seated at a window table overlooking lights strung across the trees, a dancing fountain and a square teeming with revelers, I take a sip of a good white Burgundy and spear a piece of bread with a long fork. Swirling the bread in the fondue bubbling in a red enamel pot, I promptly lose it and just manage to fish it out before someone else at the table does exactly the same thing. The fondue, by the way, is delicious, a blend of imported Gruyere and Emmenthal melted in white wine with a touch of garlic and a splash of kirsch. I can’t stop eating it. This is no hippie version but the real thing, the way it’s served in the French Alps. The bread could be a bit more resilient, but it is a baguette.

Morels French Steakhouse, with its hokey French decor that could have been put together by a ditzy designer from a television decorating show, looks like a gimmicky high-concept restaurant, but we’re eating better than we ever expected to at the Grove. From my upstairs table just above the treetops at the steakhouse (not to be confused with the bistro on the ground floor), I can make out the lights (and the goods) in the windows of Crate & Barrel. The movie theater is letting out across the “street.” And in front of the fountain, families and tourists are having their photos taken to the surreal tune of Dean Martin belting out “That’s Amore.”

From the fondue (while the insistent piped-in music segues from bland classical to James Taylor), we’ve moved on to oysters, beautiful oysters. On this night, Chef’s Creek and Fanny Bays from the Pacific Northwest and Malpeques from Prince Edward Island are presented on iced platters with wedges of lemon and a crock of shallot vinegar. They’re impeccably fresh, shucked to order, crisp and cold, tasting of sea and salt and something minerally or sweet. In season, you can get chilled Dungeness crab too.

From salade to soupe

Watercress salad with a crouton covered with a thin slice of Bucheron goat cheese makes a perfectly nice starter, although the watercress could have been a little less leggy. A wedge of iceberg lettuce napped with a creamy blue cheese dressing made from the exquisite French Bleu d’Auvergne is a terrific version of this classic American salad. Other salads, though, tend to be on the vinegary side, which, however, works to advantage in the baby spinach salad garnished with slivers of smoked duck breast.

When one of my guests, a happy smile on her face, asks about the Mediterranean fish soup, our waiter warns her off. She should have thanked him profusely. As I discover on another occasion, it’s pretty dreadful. When made from tasty, bony little rockfish from the Mediterranean, soupe de poissons can be absolutely glorious. Unfortunately, this version tasted like tomato water. If a fish had ever swum through the broth, it didn’t leave a trace of flavor behind.

French onion soup, on the other hand, is really delicious, a clear brown broth laced with caramelized onions served in a tall porcelain cylinder with a lid of toast under a blanket of molten Gruyere, Emmenthal and Comte cheeses. It’s the perfect rainy-day snack after a grim movie like “Mystic River.”

The restaurant’s signature souffle is made with morels, the Shar-Peis of the mushroom world with their appealingly wrinkled visages. Rising high above its porcelain dish, the souffle is browned on top, moist and tender inside. But somehow the rich musky taste of the morels has gone missing, so much so that I actually wonder if the mushrooms have been forgotten.

Morels is a French steakhouse, so front and center on the menu is a bavette a l’echalote. That’s skirt steak with shallots, butter and white wine. It’s an economical and flavorful cut, fine but nothing to get terribly excited about, except its price, which is $21.95. If you want something to sink your teeth into, go with the 22-ounce porterhouse or the bone-in rib-eye, both prime and aged 21 days. The New York strip is another good bet. A medium rare here, though, is closer to medium in my experience.

You can’t have a steak without pommes frites at a French steakhouse, and the ones here arrive hot and crisp, wrapped in a swatch of paper and spilling from a metal vase. New potatoes rolled in butter are delicious too. Sides have to be ordered separately. Spinach sauteed in butter is excellent, as are the haricots verts. And the gratin dauphinois doesn’t stint on the butter and cream either. The kitchen also does a good job with pan-fried calves’ liver, serving thick slices with white beans and a splash of raspberry vinegar.

The hefty veal chop (not currently on the menu) is respectable (and priced at a hefty $37). And if you’re into pork, grilled prime pork loin is a treat. Which is not to say that you can’t get a nice piece of fish. The special one night, seared yellowtail on a bed of braised leeks, makes me wish I’d ordered that instead of a steak.

The restaurant also has its own cheese sommelier, who has put together a menu of more than 30 imported, domestic, farmhouse and artisanal cheeses. I like the idea that I can come in after a movie and order some Neal’s Yard Colston Bassett Stilton, an organic Morbier from the Franche-Comte region of France, or some Humboldt Fog from Northern California. You can either choose from one of the menu’s set fromage platters, each of which comes with a glass of wine, or make your own selection from a separate menu that organizes cheeses by type. I just wish the cheeses were served closer to room temperature; some are too chilly.

A short study of the wine list can turn up some interesting bottles, and if you’d rather drink wines by the glass, there are more than two dozen to choose from. Some servers may tend to pour too much and too fast, but in general, the wine service is good.

Desserts need perfecting

Morels’ signature dessert is chocolate souffle, which seems to be making something of a comeback. The kitchen gets the souffle part right: It arrives tall and proud. But for die-hard chocolate lovers, this rather meek souffle won’t be nearly chocolaty enough. On the other hand, the creme caramel has everything but the silky texture that makes this classic dessert so seductive. This one is a little grainy and tough, probably from being cooked at too high a heat. Profiteroles are a disappointment too, because the chocolate sauce is thin and gritty. One night, we noticed baked Alaska on the menu and had to order it. Don’t. One side of the meringue was scorched black, and the cake on the bottom was a frozen rock.

If I hadn’t discovered the smaller dining room at the front of the restaurant that overlooks the plaza, I’m not sure I would have raced back for dinner at Morels. The cavernous main dining room is dispiriting when it’s more than three-quarters empty (as it is at times), and when the restaurant is at its slowest, the service is the worst. But in the smaller, wood-lined dining room or on the outdoor terrace warmed by heat lamps year-round, you feel part of the bubbly scene in the square below.

As steakhouses go, Morels is no Arnie Morton’s, but it’s an incredible find in a shopping center. Early on, I’d tried the bistro, but until now I wasn’t inspired enough to check out the fancier upstairs steakhouse.

Now I can see stopping in for a fondue or some steak and frites after seeing a film or haunting the Apple store. And walking to dinner, just like people do in cities all across America.

Because despite a dining room that’s overscaled and understaffed, executive chef Dominique Theval comes through with some quite respectable French cooking.

*

Morels French Steakhouse

Rating: * 1/2

Location: 189 The Grove Drive, Los Angeles; (323) 965-9595.

Ambience: Faux French brasserie with mirrored walls, red banquettes and walls plastered with reproductions of famous Postimpressionist paintings. An outdoor terrace overlooks the fountain and scene at the Grove.

Service: Variable -- sometimes right on the mark, at other times distracted and inattentive.

Price: Appetizers, $5.95 to $14.95; fondue, $18.95 and $26.95; main courses, $18.95 to $35; desserts, $6.75 to $14.

Best dishes: Raw oysters, fondue, French onion soup, moules a l’aneth, baby spinach and smoked duck salad, porterhouse steak, grilled yellowtail, sauteed spinach, baby new potatoes.

Wine list: Surprisingly good, with some excellent Burgundies and two dozen wines by the glass or carafe. Corkage $15.

Best table: A window table in the small dining room.

Details: Open for dinner Tuesday through Sunday from 5 to 10 p.m. (11 p.m. on Friday and Saturday). Closed Monday. Full bar. Validated parking in the Grove’s parking structure.

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.