Where outside is in

On a summer night, the action at hyper-trendy hotel Viceroy Santa Monica is not in the dining room, but on the patio outside. An outdoor bar set up in one corner is doing a gangbuster business. Elegant white cabanas trimmed in black have their fabric sides furled, the better to catch a breeze. The tables within them are set with branched candelabras and silver, ready for throngs of young hipsters who will party the night away, cocktails in hand. With all the black and white, the outdoor setting feels archly theatrical, straight out of the Ascot scene from the film “My Fair Lady.” Clever: It photographs well.

“Cheesy,” my architect friend whispers as we follow the maitre d’ through Whist’s half-empty dining room, past a wall plastered with English porcelain plates, to the table we’d requested outside -- and actually gotten. She duly notes the English Regency theme in Kelly Wearstler’s design and says it makes the place look like a suburban country club. I argue that from the shag rug in the “library” to the oversized cameo over the front desk, it’s all tongue in cheek. Well, we are in Santa Monica.

Our round table is parked between a party cabana and a long table with more than its share of young shaved heads and strategically placed tattoos. Our chairs are squishy comfortable with high backs and old-fashioned “wings.” Once designed to protect householders from those pesky drafts, here they seem coy, almost flirtatious. From the side, you can’t see the person inside, only disembodied legs dangling Jimmy Choo stilettos or kittenish mules.

When the Viceroy opened two years ago, the restaurant had an enviable drawing card: Tim Goodell of Aubergine in Newport Beach as executive chef. And right out of the box, Whist came on strong. Every food lover who had admired Goodell’s cooking from afar or was a regular at Aubergine rushed to try Whist. This was Goodell’s chance to show greater Los Angeles what he could do. And he didn’t disappoint: The food was terrific.

Whist and the trendy hotel, though, turned out to be a shaky marriage. As the scene in the Cameo Bar took off, would-be diners had to practically fight their way to the maitre d’s station through a cloud of perfume. The noise from the effervescent crowd spilled over into the open dining room, making it virtually impossible to have a conversation over dinner. People more interested in Goodell’s cooking than the scene were frustrated, and many didn’t come back.

And as Goodell began to spend less time at Whist and more at Aubergine, you never knew what you’d get. I had some very good meals and also some very poor ones, but rarely anything that reached the highs that I’d experienced when Goodell was more involved. It was the same menu, but without the crisp, resolute execution. Whist’s food was beginning to taste like most high-end hotel fare: anonymous and contrived, despite the fine ingredients.

That was the low point. Six months ago, chef de cuisine Jeff Armstrong left to take a job in Texas and Goodell brought in Rainer Schwarz, former chef at Cafe Pinot downtown and Sky Room in Long Beach as executive chef. Goodell is now listed as consultant. The kitchen is still having some problems with consistency but seems to be finding a focus. A kitchen that once seemed to promise Aubergine North is now less ambitious but perhaps a better fit for a restaurant that gets a crowd more intent on having a good time than dissecting the nuances of every dish. The food doesn’t soar, but it’s a solid 2 stars.

Though the menu format is much the same, there are subtle changes. Gone is the glorious terrine of foie gras in a French canning jar that made such a festive start to a meal at Whist. Now there’s a slab of rosy foie gras au torchon served with a piece of seared Hudson Valley foie gras paired with lichees. It plays cool against warm in a smart, succinct way. But no more of the sometimes astonishing foie gras of the day, which is a shame.

But there are wonderful Kumamoto or Fanny Bay oysters with a splash of apple cider in the mignonette to set off their briny taste -- an excuse to order a bottle of Champagne. Sashimi is going to go over big with this crowd, so the chef lays in some sushi-quality yellowtail and pairs it with a lilting ponzu made with a special soy sauce.

I like that the menu is pitched to the season. For example, right now, there’s a smooth chilled avocado soup garnished with morsels of Maryland crab, and cilantro leaves and a swirl of Spanish extra virgin olive oil. Mahogany, gold and green tomatoes appear in a salad with bufala mozzarella. An intense extra virgin olive oil is all that’s needed to show off these two summer ingredients, but the kitchen has other ideas: It gilds the lily with an herb pesto that shouts over the pure milky taste of the mozzarella (so you can’t taste the cheese) and complicates the tomatoes with a sweet balsamic. As a nice touch, the waiter also brings out a trio of salts for the salad, explaining the differences between fleur de sel and a Japanese salt with ash and seaweed in it, for example, and which to try first.

But an expensive first course of poached white jumbo asparagus from the Loire Valley doesn’t work at all. The asparagus are still al dente, not a good thing in a white asparagus, and they’ve been poached with so much Champagne vinegar they taste pickled.

The steaks and chop section of the menu, given the number of Atkins diet advocates out there, is getting a strong workout. The products are good, the cooking precise, so you tend to get exactly what you ordered. Fortunately, they’ve kept the excellent Angus beef hand-chopped burger, which you can get at dinner as well as at lunch.

Seafood is a strong suit, too. One day I tried day boat scallops on the half shell, smaller than the usual pincushion-sized scallops, but so ineffably sweet and tender they’re a revelation. There’s a big difference between live scallops and fresh. They’re served with a brandade, creamy leeks and a gremolata (the parsley-lemon peel mix that’s most often sprinkled over the top of osso buco). I love the flavors together, but the kitchen has an over-salting problem that shows up in more than one dish. Loup de mer (Mediterranean sea bass) is delightful -- cooked perfectly, very flavorful and done in an Italian style, with strozzpreti pasta and rock shrimp. New Zealand king salmon is no slouch either, delicious with earthy fingerling potatoes and grilled artichokes.

When it comes to red meat, there are always broiled steaks and chops, but also some short ribs, rack of lamb, or duck confit -- all fine, but not particularly exciting choices. I do have a soft spot for the duck confit, though, which is beautifully complemented by runner beans and a pork belly ragout. “All day” braised lamb shank sounds awfully seductive, but on the occasion I tried it, surprisingly, it was as tough and sinewy as a hunk of lamb cooked for just an hour.

One of the appealing things about Whist’s dessert menu was that it featured a category of desserts for the table to share. They were bigger than individual portions -- a luscious whole apricot tart, a summer trifle in a glass bowl-- and were a smash hit. The menu on my last visit, though, listed just one: bananas Foster. Only it wasn’t really bananas Foster. It was an excruciatingly sweet banana cake with whipped cream and caramelized bananas. None of that heartbreaking butter and brown sugar that make this New Orleans dessert so compelling. (Bananas Foster is no longer on the menu.) And at $18, we blew our entire dessert budget on that one sweet. Individual desserts include a silky butterscotch pudding and a textbook Tahitian vanilla bean creme brulee with freshly baked Madeleines, but nothing to set your pulse racing.

With Tim Goodell at the helm, Whist was, against all odds, a thrilling hotel restaurant. But the momentum and energy seemed to gradually leak away. Two years on, with a less ambitious menu and a new kitchen team in place, it’s coming back. Although the food doesn’t soar as high as it once did and there are still problems in consistency, when everything is working well, it remains the best food in a scene restaurant. At the Viceroy, when the credits roll, the restaurant is secondary to the hyperactive scene, which is the real star.

*

Whist

Rating: **

Location: Viceroy Santa Monica, 1819 Ocean Ave. (at Pico Boulevard), Santa Monica; (310) 260-7511; www.viceroysantamonica.com

Ambience: English Regency at the beach with a swell outdoor patio replete with stylish cabanas. The young crowd seems more intent on cocktails than delving into fine dining. Too bad, because the menu holds some real pleasures.

Service: Varies from impersonal and correct to overly friendly and disorganized.

Price: Dinner appetizers, $12 to $21; entrees, $25 to $49; desserts, $5 to $17 (four-course dessert service, $24 per person); chef’s four-course tasting menus, $60 per person

Best dishes: Oysters on the half shell, foie gras, chilled avocado soup, yellowtail sashimi, steaks and chops, day boat scallops on the half shell, loup de mer, creme brulee.

Wine list: Wide-ranging and for a hotel restaurant, relatively well-priced; 20 wines by the glass. Corkage, $25.

Best table: A round table for four outside on the patio.

Special features: Sunday buffet; $39 without Champagne, $49 with Champagne.

Details: Breakfast, 7 to 11 a.m.; lunch, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.; dinner, 6 to 10:30 p.m. daily. Sunday brunch, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Full bar. Valet parking, $7.

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.