Talk to a commercial realtor about evaluating a restaurant space and you’ll always hear something about curb appeal. Is it located on a street with at least moderate foot traffic, so people who aren’t looking for it will still discover it? Does the exterior have distinctive features that would catch the eye, so people notice it’s there? Is there a sign is visible to a passing car?
When it comes to The Little Oliva, a restaurant that opened in mid-June on Deep Valley Drive, the answers are no, no, and no. Some people do visit the professional and medical offices in the area, but it’s not a strolling street, and the building’s exterior is bland and boxy like the rest of the complex. There is some vehicle traffic, but the space is on a curve so anybody who is looking to the side is liable to stray out of their lane with unfortunate consequences, and their sign is not distinctive and mounted some distance from the front door.
That blandness evaporates the second you get inside, because The Little Oliva has a pretty and distinctive interior. Ornamental pottery and wicker baskets and trays line a brick-walled room with potted trees at the margins, and diners have plenty of space at the widely separated tables with bright yellow, mid-century furniture. Behind the restaurant, a patio with tables beneath sun umbrellas is ornamented with more decorative ceramics, potted plants, and wreaths of greenery. Both are lovely environments that have the feel of a stylish Italian trattoria, which is not far from what it is. The menu is not about any particular region, but leans on Italian and Greek favorites with a smattering of French and American items.
Green olives and pita bread arrive at your table during the ordering process. On a recent evening, we started with a fennel salad and a lox and caviar pizza, figuring that we could each have a slice and take the half that was left over for the next day. We didn’t, because everyone liked it so much that every bit disappeared. The nicely risen medium crust was topped with tomato and cheese and baked, with just enough lox that each slice had a generous piece, and with a sprinkle of caviar that was just sufficient to add its distinctive fishy tang. Having tried this, I’m certainly going to be back for more — I have my eye on the leek, sausage, and scamorza cheese for the next visit.

The fennel salad that arrived with the pizza used that vegetable sparingly but effectively. Italians enjoy salads that are mostly fennel by volume, but most Americans find that amount of sharp, anise-like flavor overwhelming. Here shreds of fennel are mixed with romaine, cucumber, celery, cilantro, and mint with a lemon dressing. The fennel, mint, and cilantro are all sharply aromatic, but are moderated and balanced by the sweet cucumber and lemon dressing. It’s a wonderfully fresh, cumulative flavor that pairs well with rich dishes like pizzas and pastas,. Once you try it, you may start shopping for fennel with your salad greens.
For our main courses we ordered moussaka, lamb chops, a veal chop, and a pastrami sandwich. Greeks and Italians share the tradition of baked pastas, though Italian lasagna and cannelloni are better known than Greek pastizio and lasagna. Moussaka is a Greek equivalent to the latter, with layers of pasta baked with layers of ground beef and eggplant and topped with Bechamel sauce. There are many variants, with the eggplant in big chunks in some recipes and minced in others, and some versions have a layer of sauteed potatoes or tomato mixed in with the meat. (Since the dish was invented just over a hundred years ago there is no ancient and definitive version, so chefs make what they like.) Moussaka can be very dense and moist, but in the version here the eggplant is finely chopped and gently cooked and the beef sauteed without tomato. The Bechamel sauce, which is traditionally a mix of butter, flour, milk, salt, and nutmeg, has a little pepper and green herbs added, and was poured over pasta late in baking so it didn’t caramelize and harden. The result is a very light, flavorful, and aromatic version of a modern classic.
The lamb was three large chops cut from the rack, marinated, and individually grilled, served with Greek-style roasted potatoes, salad, pita bread, and a puddle of a mild sauce that didn’t seem an essential pairing for anything else on the plate. The kitchen here has the essentials of Greek cooking down — simple natural flavors subtly enhanced with spices and the smoky infusion and carmelization from the grill. It was exactly as it should be, and the portion was generous for the modest price of $28.

I called that portion generous, but now that I’ve used that word, I really don’t have one handy for the veal Milanaise. Gargantuan? Excessive? Bountiful? Bountiful covers it nicely, and I’ll stick with that. The thick slab of meat with rib attached covered most of the plate, and I figured I’d be taking half of it home. Our companion who had ordered the pastrami sandwich volunteered to help with it, and even though he had a full meal, he devoured the hunk that I gave him. American veal has gotten better at the same time as farming conditions for the animals have improved, and this was fork-tender – our helpful server provided a steak knife but I never needed it. The egg and crumb breading on the chop had light seasoning and stuck to the meat rather than peeling off in sheets as sometimes happens. Since this came with grilled eggplant and asparagus, potatoes, and salad, it could be a fine light dinner for two rather than a feast for one, but either way it’s worth getting.
I mentioned the pastrami sandwich and would tell you more about that if our dinner companion hadn’t devoured it so quickly that I didn’t get a bite. (He’s a growing young man.) It was on a French roll and he announced that he enjoyed it, and he generally has good taste. I did snaffle one of the French fries, which were nice and crisp.
The wine selection at The Little Oliva was very small on the day we dined there because an order hadn’t arrived, so they only had two white wines on offer. I called the restaurant and verified that the situation has now been remedied, but if you want to bring your own, corkage is $25. They were also out of the dessert we ordered but brought baklava to finish the meal. One of my companions also had a coffee with cardamom, which is a good choice if you enjoy some caffeine to finish.
A generous dinner for four at The Little Oliva ran about $50 each (and we over-ordered). It’s a modest price for a meal of this caliber, served by a friendly and professional staff. It may not have curb appeal, but once you find it, you are very likely to return.
The Little Oliva is at 700 Deep Valley Drive in Rolling Hills Estates. Open Mo, We, & Thu 11 a.m – 8 p.m., Fr-Su 8 a.m – 8 p.m., street parking, wheelchair access good. Some vegetarian/vegan items, wine and beer served. Phone 310-833-1313, menu at thelittleoliva.com.