Today is the day you can officially decide if Citrus, the new incarnation of famed French chef Michel Richard's long-ago Melrose Avenue legend, is the exception rather than the rule.
Right away, you'll find the lack of pretense helps its chances. The lime-green carpet, lime-green velvet-coated pillars, and backlit lemon-yellow curtains embody a cheekily obvious play on the name. And even the most novice member of your refined foodie cadre isn't likely to be intimidated by a menu that promises Chicken Faux Gras to start, 72-Hour Short Rib Frites to continue, and a Kit Kat Bar with Sauce Noisette to finish. (If you've forgotten you're in the hands of a master, just check your plate—his signature is scrawled across it.)
The setting for all this is the once-nameless dining space within the Social Hollywood monolith, which didn't take long to become more about the elite nightlife scene upstairs (and next door, and in the back) than the food in this corner. But though the access to those booze-fueled corridors remains, Citrus now has its own identity...and its own Sunset Boulevard entrance. And, not to worry, its own bar.
Where deals securing the next big remake are sure to be hatched.