A Makeover With Mixed Results

Indebleu tries to get its groove back

* 1/2 Indebleu

707 G St. NW

202-333-2538 www.bleu.com

Open: lunch Monday through Friday 11:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.; dinner Sunday through Wednesday 5 to 10 p.m., Thursday through Saturday 5 to 11 p.m. V, MC, AE, DC. No smoking. Metro: Gallery Place/Chinatown. Valet parking at dinner. Dinner prices: appetizers $7 to $14, entrees $17 to $32.

Image problems -- and attempts to correct them -- aren't confined to presidential aspirants, Chinese exporters and Hollywood starlets who can't say no to cocktails. Restaurants sometimes need tweaking and relaunching, too.

Having opened to polite applause toward the close of 2004, Indebleu, the chic dining venue and lounge introduced to Penn Quarter by the Georgetown-based Enterprise Bleu, had in recent seasons fallen off a lot of diners' radars screens, a situation its handlers aimed to remedy over the summer. Part of the problem was Indebleu's split personality -- was it a nightclub or a restaurant? -- and part of it was competition. Not a season goes by that a new place to eat doesn't pop up in this vibrant neighborhood.

The changes at Indebleu are apparent to anyone who knew the venue back when. To separate the partyers from the serious eaters, a host now steers customers back (to the lounge) or up (to the second-floor dining rooms and bar). Smart move. Prices have been cut a bit -- the entree high dropped from $39 to $32 -- and portion sizes have grown. Again, a wise strategy.

Yet another switch is evident after the waiter introduces Indebleu as "a contemporary American restaurant with Indian accents" and explains that the food is served as it's ready, rather than in traditional courses, and, because of that, sharing dishes family-style is encouraged. (The spiel runs a little long when all you really want is a cocktail, thanks.) I'm all for spreading the wealth with those who share my table, but the reality is, in all my visits to the recast restaurant, the food came out appetizers first, albeit with epic pauses between the first and second courses. And, while most of the menu has changed, the new dishes aren't necessarily improvements. Original chef Vikram Garg is still at the wheel -- and still turning out food that can elicit cheers or jeers, sometimes at the same meal.

Let's start with what's right. When the city felt like a blast furnace earlier this summer, a delicious source of relief from the heat could be found in a hillock of greens rising from a base of juicy watermelon, a construction punctuated by spicy nuts, candied ginger and a lively sherry dressing. Duck meatballs, a holdover from the past, look a little goofy -- the golf ball-size rounds of duck confit are staged on dimpled potatoes braised in duck fat -- but eating them is a pleasant experience. I like how their crisp shell gives way to the soft, meaty and sweet-with-date interior. Lobster bisque is a pretty shade of pink with nice bites of seafood; the surface of the soup is dappled with shimmering green droplets of curry leaf "pesto." The Bleu "slider" duo gets it half right, with a thin hamburger spiked with roasted Indian spices and tucked in a glossy little bun. But also on the appetizer plate is a dull piece of sauteed foie gras in what looks like a short hot dog roll, which soaks up the liver's cooking juices and quickly goes mushy.

Some of the staging of the food makes me wonder: Were all the dishes run through a testing phase? It's hard to believe that the quail -- puffed up like a blimp with minced chicken, vegetables and pistachios, and resting on what appears to be a replica of the La Brea Tar Pits -- didn't raise any pre-launch eyebrows. The crumbly filling of the fowl, and the black moat of reduced red wine and demi-glace that supports it, are not a combination I'd want to revisit. In another main course (er, "larger plate"), three enormous rounds of tame "vindaloo" pork loin make an inelegant statement, particularly in light of Indebleu's swank interior. The overabundance is made less appealing with limp fried onions and a star anise glaze that overwhelms the meat; it's the food equivalent of Ethel Merman singing with Enya. Eating the doughy-cheesy "naan" pizza scattered with mild-mannered tandoori chicken transported me to a Domino's research kitchen, and the lobster stir-fried with morels and bok choy -- good so far -- is surrounded by stamp-size rafts of rice topped with mango salsa that just look silly. The lobster's creamy mango sauce also edges too close to dessert for my taste.

In fairness, some of the surprises prove pleasant. Tortellini stuffed with paneer (fresh Indian cheese with the texture of tofu) sounds like a forced marriage, but the joke is on me when I taste the vegetarian dish. It's possibly the best entree on the menu, and, at $17, the least expensive. The tender hats of pasta come three to an order, their soft, cumin-seasoned, bell pepper-enhanced centers nicely balanced with a light wash of tomato sauce tinged with fenugreek. The chef employs the same paneer recipe used by his mother in his native Punjab, and it's a treat to sample a bit of his youth. Another winning main course finds large squares of yellowfin tuna, rare except for their seared edges, poised on a colorful salad of roasted corn, creamy avocado, red onion and orange lentils -- everything splashed with a teasing vinaigrette of lime, chili and cilantro. But perfectly presentable tandoor-cooked lamb chops come with muddy-flavored lentils and a syrupy-sweet "mojito" glaze that dishonors the cocktail it's named after.

To accompany a meal, there are a half-dozen side dishes, and their quality ranges from poor (wimpy "masala" french fries) to pleasing (minty-fresh sweet peas). The typically fragrant basmati rice was so neutral that it could have come from Uncle Ben's.

Long and packed with blue-chip labels (six Turley zinfandels, some of the Willamette Valley's best pinot noirs), Indebleu's wine list looks as if it belongs to another restaurant -- a dearer one than this. Little attempt appears to have been made to match the chef's style of cooking with the wine, and while the collection showcases lots of hard-to-finders, they're yours for hefty markups.

There's light at the end of this tunnel. The dessert that best represents Indebleu's vision is the clever and delicious "mango, mango," which, true to its mon-iker, brings together a dome-shaped mango mousse flying a sheer flag of the dried fruit, a mango-flavored marshmallow and a shot of vodka-fueled "mangotini." The different textures play well against one another, and the flavors are spot on. Coming in a close second is a many-layered wedge of opera cake, which shares its plate with a scoop of pistachio ice cream set on a chewy pistachio meringue. But a green apple stuffed with chopped apple is hard to eat, best for its bourbon ice cream.

Indebleu's long main dining room is as seductive as ever, with sheer drapes letting lots of light seep in, and modern art gracing walls that have switched from an eggshell color to burnt orange. But the thump, thump, thump of what sounds like club music is a distraction, and as much as I like the roomy booths hugging the wall, their tables are pierced by what more than one dining companion compared to stripper poles.

Indebleu is a changed restaurant. But I'm not convinced its conversion is complete -- or that slightly lower prices or a different shade of paint are the best answers to its essential problems.

To chat with Tom Sietsema online, go to washingtonpost.com on Wednesdays at 11 a.m.