RESTAURANT REVIEW : Remodeling of Firenze Kitchen Ristorante Puts No Dent in High Standards

When a restaurant calls itself a “kitchen,” the thinking people of this city demand an explanation. At least Firenze Kitchen Ristorante used to have a good one--it was so small you were practically sitting between the sink and the cupboard. However, a couple of months ago it added maybe nine or 10 two-seater tables plus a tiny balcony where a couple more people could conceivably sit. This means it’s now time to review the name.

OK, it was a quick test. The ruling is that the Firenze still deserves to call itself a kitchen simply because the kitchen is still all there is to it. You can call it dimly lit and romantic if you prefer to think of it that way, but basically it’s as close to having no decor as a restaurant gets, and the only entertainment is the jovial wisecracking of the chef’s sister, who is the waitress.

Food really is all that’s going on here, and fortunately it’s rather distinctive Italian food. The stuffed mushrooms, for instance, aren’t actually stuffed with anything; they themselves are the stuffing for an impossibly rich and cheesy alfredo sauce.

The other appetizers aren’t as rich as that one, but most of them have the same forcefulness. The caponata is luscious, full of cooked onions as well as eggplant, bell pepper, tomato and semi-crisp celery. The artichoke salad has a stingingly tart vinaigrette dressing, and the fried mozzarella comes in a wonderful chunky and tangy tomato sauce.

Just about everything has some unusual touch. You get rolls (what’s that spice in them, black cumin?) and soup or salad, but the soup could be strongly flavored cream of spinach, about the color of a new pool table, and the salad, full of red cabbage and peas as well as lettuce, has a mysterious dressing that might have anchovies in it. This place even has the coraggio to serve that dangerous old cliche spaghetti and meatballs, claiming on the menu that “ours are memorable.” They’re certainly OK, and memorable in a way--the meatballs are surprisingly garlicky.

The entrees are all pastas or served on pasta, and the most imposing of them is “Pompeii” (a curiously southern image for this purportedly Florentine restaurant). This is a big plate of linguine topped with three concentric circles of Firenze’s most impressive sauces: that impossibly rich alfredo, a snappy marinara and, in the center, a dollop of Bolognese , which is so meaty it’s practically a little bit of beef stew.

Some of the dishes are so forceful they’re positively exotic. The linguine carbonara has a quite otherworldly sauce. It smells of pancetta, that unsmoked Italian version of bacon, but it has a grainy texture and a mysterious hint of sweetness that kept me debating for most of the meal whether there might be coconut in it. I had a similar question about the veal lasagna, another extremely rich and strange dish that, unlike the regular lasagna, contains bits of thin-sliced veal marinated in sweet Marsala wine, and also some soft unannounced meatballs with a bit of anise in them.

Beside these, the rotellini Firenze is just a little unusual: rotellini with a highly (and I use the term advisedly) garlicky white wine sauce plus some tomato and lots of mozzarella. The shrimp diavolo come in a marinara sauce with a bit of shellfish flavor. (In the true Italian tradition, the chef’s sister also advised us that we could have a different shrimp dish that night: “with marinara sauce, or alfredo , or white wine, whatever you want”.)

There is an entree, which changes each night, of skinned chicken breast. That has an ominous diet-conscious sound, but it can actually be interesting. One night I had it in some kind of cream sauce with cooked onions and bell peppers; it tasted practically Chinese, somehow.

The dessert list doesn’t amount to much. However, portions at Firenze are on the large size (tough luck for the diet-conscious), and it’s possible to eat here several times without having room to try a dessert. But I’d be willing to try whatever it is they offer.

In fact, I’d be willing to try just about anything they serve here, though there are two items I might pass on. The gnocchi are not as light as they could be. And the old-fashioned appetizer called clams casino has OK clams, but the casino part, a thick wad of flavored bread crumbs, is dreary.

Totaling up the score here, Firenze Kitchen still seems a winner. It is on notice, however, that one more expansion may end its kitchen status.

Suggested dishes: stuffed mushrooms, $4.50; fried mozzarella, $3.50; Pompeii, $11.75; carbonara, $9.50.

Firenze Kitchen Ristorante, 612 N. La Brea, Hollywood, (213) 932-8859. Open for dinner from 5 to 10 p.m. Monday through Saturday. Beer and wine only. Street parking. MasterCard and Visa accepted ($20 minimum). Dinner for two, food only, $27 to $43.