"HAVE you had the nine-grain pancake?" my extravagantly fit friend asks me. "It's fantastic. About this big," she says, stretching her arms wide. "But the secret is, you can get a half order."
I nod and make evasive noises. I'm not unaware of the Venice cafe Axe (pronounced "ah-shay," not "ax"), but it's been years since I've been there. And let's just say I wasn't hankering to go back, remembering hard benches and lumpen vegetarian fare.
But when another friend, and another, began to sing Axe's praises, claiming the food is much more interesting now, that chorus -- and (let's be honest) the idea of a pancake with such a fanatical following -- nudged me into revisiting this popular Abbot Kinney spot.
Owner Joanna Moore founded the restaurant in 1990 in Santa Monica, but relocated to Venice in 1999.
I found something quite different from what I remembered. For one, there are now scads of cushions along the benches and banquettes, plus the occasional, very comfortable wicker armchair. I enjoyed the food too, especially the first courses and the sides.
I also found a restaurant that seems to run like a charm even though Moore and her sous chef Christopher Harbrant weren't in on a couple of my visits. Moore acts more as an executive chef, working with Harbrant, who has been here for six months or so, and the other cooks.
The staff is engaging and helpful. And the crowd is fiercely loyal. These are the Venice intelligentsia, folks in their late 20s and early 30s who have made this their neighborhood restaurant. Glitz is in short supply, but seriously good taste -- and understated style -- are not.
On nights when you don't want to spend big at Joe's or brave the noise and the chaos at Primitivo or Hal's, Axe is there waiting with its low-key, comfortable vibe -- and half a roast chicken for $24.
Axe keeps a low profile. The front of the restaurant is virtually hidden by two enormous palm trees, each framed in one of the big front windows. At the same time, it wears its colors up front: The menu, as well as a list of the farmers and suppliers of the top-notch ingredients the kitchen relies on, is posted on the front door.
Sit at the counter or at a table in the front dining room and you can see everything in the open kitchen. Wonder what the vegetable sides are today? And what the greens are? A cook pulls a heap of fresh, pristine Swiss chard onto his work table. There's your answer.
Where vegetables star
