by Richard Foss
Last week I visited a restaurant that most of you probably have never heard of, despite the fact that it is next to what is probably the highest-traffic corner in the Beach Cities. The corner is Rosecrans and PCH, and the eatery is Second Story in the Belamar Hotel. It’s a curious example of a place that was once a hotspot, but now has cooled to the point of almost being forgotten.
Longtime locals may remember when the hotel was Barnabey’s, an antique-filled hostelry with an English pub called The Auberge and a bridge across Valley Drive to a literature-themed restaurant, the Pen & Quill. From the ‘50s through 70s the P&Q was a clubby haunt for authors and journalists, and also the home of a wacky organization called the Turtle Club, noted for witty repartee, off-color riddles, and martini consumption. The bridge across the Valley was a novelty that restaurants on both sides benefited from, and made it a destination from a wide radius.
The Pen & Quill was demolished and replaced by a retirement community in the ‘80s, and the bridge now went nowhere, but became seating in the still-lively restaurant. This was briefly renamed Vibe when the hotel changed to the Belamar, but was then renamed Second Story. Somewhere during that process, it shrank, both in terms of square footage and its place in the community. The bridge to nowhere was repurposed to be a meeting room, and the dining area is now less than half the size it was when I reviewed the place in 2011. The menu shrank too – this restaurant once was a launching pad for chefs and boasted daring cuisine, but the menu has become generic. They have no on-site chef with autonomy to offer specials. The kitchen team executes items designed by corporate chefs, and they do so for an audience mainly of hotel guests.
So why would a restaurant critic write about a place that is a shadow of what it once was? For one thing, it’s handy to know a place that will probably have tables available even on a Saturday night when all else is packed.
On arrival you’ll probably have to walk to the bar to get someone’s attention, because the host desk at the front is generally unattended. The decor is mid-century with large tables widely spaced, and the sound level in the attractive room is low so that conversations are not interrupted.
The menu is short and by the numbers – steaks, pasta, salads, burgers, and a few nods to multiculturalism like Vietnamese rice paper rolls. Those are listed on the menu as spring rolls, which usually means the fried version, but are actually summer rolls, which are soft rather than crisp. The mix of chilled cooked shrimp with sprouts and julienned vegetables is refreshing, though there was none of the fresh mint that adds herbal notes. This was accented by the fact that they were served with cashew sauce and ponzu, both very mild. The usual condiments are a peanut sauce with a dash of spiciness and fish sauce, and they were missed.
The other starter we tried was the “Maryland crab cakes” which might have been made with crab from Maryland, but were not in that state’s distinctive style. These were made with shredded crab rather than chunks of lump crab, mixed with vegetables including bell pepper and corn rather than the traditional onion. Anyone from Baltimore would have added paprika-laced Old Bay or Phillips crab cake seasoning, but if any was present here, it was undetectable. This was a California style crab cake, and if you like that relatively bland style this will be to your tastes. They were served over what was referred to as a cajun cream sauce, which was more cream than cajun.
The cocktails we had with our starters were a bright spot – the Manhattan Beach cocktail with rum, passionfruit, and pomegranate had the right squeeze of lime to balance the sweetness, and they make a good French 75. The wine and beer list was short and almost all major brands, with only a Mayberry IPA to let you know you’re in the South Bay.
We tried four entrees – the fish and chips, pappardelle primavera topped with salmon, the smashburger, and a New York steak. The steak ordered medium rare was delivered medium, but was a tender piece of meat that had some grill flavor. It came with vegetables that were cooked through so that they had some natural texture. The pappardelle primavera was better, cooked a proper al dente with olive oil and parmesan and topped with a large piece of crisp-skilled salmon. It would have been perfect except for one thing – the person who had ordered it had asked for no asparagus in the veggie mix, but it had been included anyway. If the restaurant had been busy this might have been excusable, but we were the only people dining at that time.
The fish and chips and the burger were both simple items well executed. They use sole filets rather than cheaper tilapia, and the ample portion arrived hot, crisp, and flavorful. The small mountain of crinkle cut fries made it a very full meal, though I’d have been happier with fewer fries and a bit of cole slaw or salad. The burger was piled high and had a good balance of meat, pickles, and fixings – I’d have preferred the bun toasted, but I didn’t ask for that so can’t blame them.
As an apology for the errors with the steak and pasta, the kitchen staff decided to send out a dessert of New York cheesecake. It would’ve been a bit nicer if they had offered us our choice, because neither of us particularly enjoy that dessert. It wasn’t a bad cheesecake, but still sweeter than what I tend to like.
Who is Second Story for? Hotel guests, obviously, but it’s also handy for business meetings because it’s quiet, close to the freeway and highway, and parking is easy. With those advantages they’ll pick up some locals who are attending meetings, but I wouldn’t expect many to come back until the kitchen becomes more consistent and some more interesting items are offered.
Second Story is at 3501 Sepulveda – entry on Oak Avenue, free valet parking. Open daily 6:30 am – 11 pm, full bar, some vegetarian items. (310) 750-0300. Thebelamar.com. ER
