One of the most iconic commercials of the ’70s was the running gag about the lonely Maytag repairman who never got any calls because the machines he serviced never broke down. It was a cute idea, someone itching to do a good job, but not getting a chance to show off his skills.
A recent experience reminded me of that commercial. When my wife and I walked into The Shore early on a Thursday, the artistic modern space was almost empty ‘ two customers chatting with the bartender, two servers who seemed delighted that someone had actually shown up to eat. One showed us to a table and made suggestions about what we might enjoy from the menu, then fetched water and asked if we might like something from the bar.

I had been unimpressed on my first visit to this restaurant shortly after it opened ‘ there were some sophisticated bar snacks, but the choices were less than exciting. New chef David Linville, who has cooked at high-end Los Angeles restaurants like Mastro’s, The Standard, and The Viceroy, has livened up the menu at Shore. We were admiring the variety and trying to choose something when who should arrive at our table but the chef himself. Linville seemed delighted to talk with us about food, and offered to make some special items based on fresh ingredients he had in the kitchen. I was tempted by his offer of a huitlacoche mushroom sauce over steak, but we decided to order from the regular menu, and we happily accepted his suggestions from that list.

Our server returned with the drinks we had ordered and asked if we had decided on what we wanted. When told that the chef had come out to talk with us, he laughed and said, He likes to talk with the customers. Of course he does ‘ Linville is obviously a gregarious fellow, and finding out what his customers want must be more interesting than sitting in the kitchen waiting for something to happen just like the Maytag man between calls.

First to arrive were some stuffed mushrooms we had ordered when we requested the drinks. They were large criminis stuffed with spinach, shallots, bacon, and a bit of goat cheese. They were done to a turn, the caps warm but still slightly crisp, stuffing fragrant and smoky, and the drizzle of fruity olive oil and aged balsamic vinegar topping everything off. There might have been a dash of truffle oil there too, a muskiness that was more than the mushroom, but it was used so subtly that it was just a breath of extra flavor.

As we finished the mushrooms, the sauteed garlic shrimp arrived, a mound of seafood in sauce in the bottom of a deep white bowl with crostini arranged around the edge. This is usually served with goat cheese, but chef Linville had some Humboldt Fog in the kitchen and offered that instead. Nobody who loves cheese would decline ‘ Humboldt Fog is one of the finest cheeses in the world, and the generous portion on the toasted bread would have been a nice simple starter by itself. Combining such a full-flavored cheese with shrimp is usually a culinary no-no; the Greek poet and gastronome Archestratus warned against doing so in about 400 BC, and it has been a general rule since. It works sometimes, and this was one of those sometimes; the robust sauce enhanced both the seafood and cheese flavors, making partners of two flavors that would otherwise be in opposition.

I’d usually be savoring the interplay between the food and wine, but the by-the-glass list at The Shore had few exciting choices compared to the martini menu. That’s not to say they were bad, because they weren’t, but there was nothing I was just dying to try. The martini list was more alluring, and we sipped a Cosmo-Rita and a Ketel One Cosmopolitan and found them delightful. The level in my Cosmo-rita (which is, as you probably guessed, a Cosmopolitan made with tequila) was dropping precipitously as the starters disappeared, and after calculating what might go best with my main course I switched to a regular martini. Bryan, our server, recommended making it dirty (with olive juice added), and I concurred. When it first arrived I thought I had made a mistake ‘ it had a very sharp pickle flavor that seemed overpowering. Bryan suggested that I try it with the food, and if I didn’t like the combination, he’d replace it.

No changes were necessary, as the drink that had seemed astringent was perfect with the skirt steak in chimichurri sauce. Chimichurri is like an Argentine version of Pesto, made with olive oil, parsley, garlic, onion, and whichever other herbs suit the chef, and it is justly popular with steak lovers. The skirt steak was doused in sauce, grilled exactly to the medium rare I requested, sliced and served, and it was a simple carnivore’s delight. At only $14 for the steak with crisp fries and a salad, this is one of the dining deals in the South Bay, and it’s one I expect to have again.
My wife chose a more nuanced entree of pan-roasted seabass topped with heirloom tomatoes, capers, and basil. She was enchanted ‘ the flavors were straight from Provence, marvelously balanced, and the fish had that perfect crisp exterior that I can never quite duplicate at home.
We were relaxing at our table afterward and watching the place fill up when who should drop by but the chef again. He offered us a few slices of an aged Gouda that he uses in the macaroni and cheese, and though we had been mulling over dessert we happily accepted. It was delicious and ought to be on the menu ‘ I don’t think we’re the only ones who would happily pay for a cheese plate with that good Gouda, Humboldt Fog, and whatever other delicacies might be available.
We talked with the chef for a few minutes about food and the vagaries of the local dining scene until another order sent him heading to his kitchen. It was a rare chance to chat with an artist who really ought to be too busy to talk to us ‘ he is a master who should be better known. As he left I promised to tell my friends that there’s a new place in town; I’m doing it now, and I do hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

There have been arguments about whether The Shore is a restaurant that serves alcohol or a bar that serves food. There’s a difference; I’ve gone to restaurants for drinks and eaten at bars, and you can tell when the management regards the quality of the either food or drink as secondary. Having tried The Shore, I must say that it is a restaurant, albeit one with a lively bar attached. It’s a fine place to dine, and it deserves to succeed.

The Shore is at 1320 Hermosa Ave., Hermosa Beach. Open daily for lunch and dinner, lunch weekends after 1 p.m. Full bar, street parking or valet on weekends, wheelchair access problematic to some areas due to high tables. Some vegetarian options. Phone 310-376-0414. ER

Added attraction
A casual introduction to The Shore is offered at their Tuesday night wine tastings. Five varieties of the grape are served with a cheese plate concocted by Chef Linvill for $10. If you discover a favorite wine, certain bottles are offered at half-price. Sean Krajewski