COOKS used to dream about opening their own little restaurant with an herb garden out back and their spouse at the door.
Many of L.A.'s most beloved restaurants -- places like Joe's in Venice or Josie in Santa Monica or Avenue in Manhattan Beach -- were created in that spirit, started by chefs more interested in cooking than in being famous.
These days, cooking school grads are more likely to dream about having their own show on the Food Network or coming up with a restaurant concept that can be cloned -- New York, Paris, Tokyo, Singapore. Inspired by Wolfgang Puck and Nobu Matsuhisa, they envision their names emblazoned on restaurants all over the globe.
And looking at the high-profile, design-driven, group-owned restaurants that have been opening in waves lately -- places such as Bridge, Minx, Memphis and Republic -- invites the question: Is there anybody left who just wants to open a small, personal restaurant?
Well, yes, as it happens. Karen and Quinn Hatfield, who were celebrated co-chefs at Cortez in San Francisco, have moved back to Los Angeles, Karen's hometown, and opened their own small restaurant called Hatfield's, on Beverly Boulevard.
The two met when they worked at Spago. But Quinn moved on to Jean Georges and Bouley in New York, and Karen to Gramercy Tavern, Jojo and Vong before they were again able to work together in San Francisco at Cortez.
And now they have Hatfield's together. It's a sweet place, up a few steps from the street, with a small patio that runs along the front and down one side of the building. Inside, the former Le Chine Wok space is spare and simple, with tables swathed in white linen, extremely comfortable blond, woven chairs and a fanciful linear chandelier with dangling crystals lined up in a row above the bar.
You can just barely see into the kitchen where Quinn is at work with his crew. Karen is the dessert chef and a warm presence in the dining room.
The feeling is relaxed and unhurried, and at least on the nights I was there, the dining room and patio were quiet enough to talk in, easily, over dinner, something that's rare in L.A. The decor has a quiet calm, too, that allows the food to star.
A meal at Hatfield's begins with an \o7amuse\f7. It might be a small glass of watermelon sangria, a shock of cool on a warm summer night. Or a chilled asparagus soup, accompanied by a stuffed quail egg served on a demitasse spoon. Flavored with smoked trout, the quail egg's filling is lush and smoky.
