VIVA VIDA : This Restaurant Excels in the Unexpected-- Such as a Theme-to-Order Party Room

By dessert time at Vida that first night, I just couldn’t tackle the big ones. Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Love, a chocolate cake roll stuffed with banana mousse and peanut butter, would have to wait. Cookies and a shot of milk sounded just right. I could definitely have used a double, though, with the fudgy, cherry-studded “scooters” and the slender granola biscotti. Then I found the flattened fortune cookie, obviously homemade. A slip of paper trailed from one end. “Smile, it won’t kill you,” it said.

Everything else about Vida, a new restaurant in Los Feliz, is just as quirky as the desserts, from the dugout seating in the bar-cafe to the wonderfully whimsical presentation of the food and the wacky names for the dishes. Waiters wear what look like brown canvas pj’s. Young denizens of the club scene sit elbow to elbow with regular folks from the neighborhood. Even the music is unusual. One minute you’re listening to Satchmo or Billie Holliday, the next bobbing your head to a perky tune that makes you feel like one of the Munchkins dancing down the yellow brick road.

Early on, the restaurant’s working title was “. . .” A bit unpronounceable, until it was decided to thread the letters V I D A among the dots. The ellipses still show up as a handsome graphic on the menus, as porthole-shaped mirrors in the bar and as Dot Dot Dot, the name of the first appetizer: three round, jellied smoked fish salads, to be eaten, presumably, one-two-three. Shrimp comes three ways, too: steamed, grilled and in a tempura jacket, each set on a different salad, one of them fired with chile. Also delicious. Disks of shaved raw beef layered with crisp, sweet slices of Asian pear and piled high in a pool of green oil are strikingly good. Irresistibly light Cali calimari come piled in a brown paper box with a trio of sauces, the best a smoky roasted chile sauce.

The punster in Vida’s kitchen is Fred Eric, a Joachim Splichal protege who cooked at Olive and was a consulting chef at the prematurely defunct Lipp. Here, in the space that once housed Le Petite Chaya and Duplex, the 32-year-old chef finally has his own venue. And from all appearances, he seems to be having a grand time in the kitchen.

The Ty Cobb salad arrives in an unexpected form: a multicolored, intricately layered slab of noodles, crispy duck, warm spinach and tomatoes with a definite Thai twist; the whole thing resembles an illustration of geological strata in an old encyclopedia. Okra Winfrey Creole gumbo has plenty of clams and spicy andouille sausage piled around a rice-and-red-bean cake, but Eric has shortchanged the broth. I like this dish, but I miss that heat-seeking gumbo juice. The non-Caesar salad looks demure, until you take in the sleight of hand: Jicama has been cut to resemble Parmesan chips.

Antonio Gaudi could easily have been the architect of New Yorkshire, which starts with a foundation of Yorkshire pudding, then piles on mashed potatoes, creamed corn and a nice piece of steak grilled rare. Odd, yes. But take away all the trappings and it’s familiar, well-executed cooking. And while Eric can’t resist showing off his stuff, he also tries hard to accommodate the less-adventurous crowd with a generous porterhouse steak and “plain old lobster,” as in grilled Maine.

When you sit down, the waiter offers hot towels and then returns with a complimentary focaccia, pale and puffed from the oven. Decorated with a plaid of chile and basil oils, it is filled with molten mozzarella cheese. You could follow this with soothing carrot-ginger soup, but only fanatical spinach fanciers would be enthralled by the garlicky Pop-I soup.

One of my favorite dishes turned out to be the packet of white fish wrapped in rice noodles that floats in a distinctive lemon-grass broth with Chinese broccoli, shiitake mushrooms and snow-pea shoots. But leathery pasta dough threatened to sink the three-cheese tortellini grande in a broth full of smoked chicken and vegetables. A pretty but bland open-faced pot pie was essentially mashed potatoes topped with a gardenful of colorful vegetables.

“For dessert,” the waiter explains, “we offer small portions.” This is a bright idea, since that’s what most of us want anyway. I do love the tiny, tall-sided grapefruit tart and the deep chocolate French l’opera cake with a scoop of horchata ice.

Vida scores very high with its interesting--and, yes, quirky--wine list at extremely sensible prices. It’s rare to find so many good bottles in the $20-and-below range. Wines are organized into a dozen categories. For example, from the wines grouped under Soft-Supple-Round-Rich, you might choose the ’91 Kistler Pinot Noir, $30, to drink with Mr. Frenchy, a deconstructed pot au feu of grilled beef in a vegetable-laced broth. Or from the Spicy-Steely-Earthy portion, the fragrant, bone-dry ’92 Riesling from Domaine Weinbach in Alsace, $25, to accompany one of the fish dishes. The Veuve Clicquot non-vintage brut is well-priced $43. For dessert, consider a glass of Muscat de Beaumes de Venise from Domaine Durban, $6.

In addition to the restaurant and bar-cafe, Vida offers the Chado room, reserved for a maximum of eight for an entire evening. You choose the music, decor, the menu and the wines. You can dine Japanese style, Western style or seated at a low table on antique short-legged Pakistani chairs. From what I know of Eric, he’s preparing to have some fun with this idea, too. As are the customers. I was informed that the room may be reserved for New Year’s Eve by a couple who requested beds as part of the decor.

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Vida Cafe, 1930 Hillhurst Ave., Los Angeles; (213) 660-4445. Dinner served Tuesday through Saturday, lunch Tuesday through Friday; Sunday brunch. Full bar. Valet parking. Major credit cards accepted. Dinner for two, food only, $38-$85.