RESTAURANTS/Max Jacobson : Uninspired Elegance That Hails From the Old School

JW’s is a restaurant that takes itself very seriously. Every detail of your dinner (the only meal served here) has been meticulously planned, and the service runs like a top from a Swiss toy store. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Just sitting down to dinner at JW’s is a numbing experience. Walking from the bustle of a busy hotel lobby into this Ile-de-France dining room with its cathedral-like ceilings and catacombed individual rooms ought to straighten your tie all by itself. There may be smatterings of silk flowers and stucco suspiciously interspersed among the more inviting appointments, but that’s not enough to dilute the effect, is it?

You certainly won’t be disturbed by errant noises, such as the clink of crystal or the rustle of linen. Waiters, in their tuxedos, are all seasoned pros; they speak softly, almost inaudibly, when they are table-side, as if they were serving breakfast in a monastery. Silver domes go swoosh when they are whisked off dinner plates. There is even a live harpist playing background melodies. You do like the harp, don’t you?

Naturally, the menu at JW’s is expensively bound and ostentatiously constructed. Appetizers are fashioned of royal ingredients, such as foie gras, lobster and duck breast. The most expensive fish and game, such as pheasant, sole and venison, are in generous supply. Surely one wouldn’t expect to find a lowly fillet of red snapper or a humble tomato salad on these august pages, would one?

By now you have guessed that JW’s has a definite attitude. Somebody up there has one very particular opinion about elegance, and it does sound familiar. Now personally, I don’t care much for silk flowers, I can easily live without the harp, and I rather fancy a simple salad before an embarrassingly rich entree. Since one is compelled to wear a jacket to dine at this restaurant, it would be nice to be able to button it on the way out.

JW’s is staunchly old school--and has every intention of remaining so. It is also a hotel restaurant, which means that it has to please a wider variety of customers than an ordinary dinner house, making it less likely to take interesting chances. If this type of restaurant is your cup of tea, then the two of you should be happy together. Very happy, indeed.

I was quite happy with the first appetizer I tasted, a dish of sauteed foie gras served on a potato galette in a Madeira sauce. This is the real thing, home-grown duck liver (not the potted variety from overseas), and it is cooked to a delicate softness. The sauce is a trifle too sweet. Gravlax, Norwegian salmon marinated with dill and green peppercorns, is wonderful, the best of chef John McLaughlin’s appetizers. The beauty of this dish, of course, is its simplicity: Mingling flavors and creating new combinations require great skill, and that is something the kitchen doesn’t demonstrate often. Probably it isn’t supposed to.

Two of the more original-looking appetizers, a terrine of lobster and sweetbreads and an escargot ravioli with wild mushrooms in a cream sauce, are quite innocuous. In a blind tasting, I might not have known what I was eating.

Soups at JW’s are similarly uninspired. The wild mushroom soup tastes exactly like the sauce on the ravioli (although there is a lip-smacking piece of sliced rabbit at the bottom of the bowl). Cream of tomato soup with sweet red peppers and basil baked under a puff pastry dome lacks much in the way of separation of flavors. (Besides, all the pastry kind of falls, glop, into the bowl.)

Main dishes show a little more enthusiasm. McLaughlin has the good sense not to drown everything in cream sauce, and in fact, his sauces are generally a hit. Roast boar in a simple sauce of sage, juniper and honey was ordered to see if it was readily distinct from roast pork. It was. The boar is not as gamy as you would hope, but it does have a robust spiciness, and I would order it anytime.

Venison (the grass-fed kind) is red and rugged-looking in a sauce based on red wine vinegar. Mine was about as soft as a tenderloin of beef. Steamed lobster with a julienne of vegetables and spinach is an appealing combination, and the one I tasted was remarkably fresh, heightened by the presence of a subtle beurre blanc . The lobster must have checked into the hotel just before I arrived.

JW’s, like many big-deal restaurants, has the standard big-deal restaurant selection of desserts: souffles, mousses, fruits and ices. The strength of these desserts is that they are all suspensions--sauces in different forms really--and well within the province of a well-trained saucier so that no pastry chef is needed. Resulting desserts are quite acceptable (except the gummy souffles) and one (the oft-attempted creme brulee), actually spectacular.

I am confident that you have figured out that the wine list has plenty of Bordeaux, Burgundies, Chardonnays and Cabernets, and I will bet you even guessed that the dessert menu has a variety of ports, cognacs and liqueurs. Did anyone guess that the ladies get roses? No, they are not made of silk.

Prices at JW’s reflect the esteem the restaurant seeks. Hors d’oeuvres are from $6 (for a good slice of homemade pate) to $12. Soups are $5 or $7. Interestingly dressed salads are from $6 to $10. Main courses range from $18 to $27.

JW’s

Anaheim Marriott Hotel, 700 W. Convention Way, Anaheim.

(714) 750-0900.

Open daily from 6-10 p.m.; closed on occasional Sundays. (Call for confirmation). All major credit cards.