Loutas brings classic French dining to an out-of-the-way corner of Carmel.

At the site that was known for 30 years as L''Escargot, Loutas on Mission brings a lovely breath of fresh air to this corner of Carmel. In a town already famous for its characteristically charming out-of-the-way places, a couple of months ago it got one more. Kerry Loutas can take most of the credit for the space''s attractive, opened-up, freshened-up makeover--big, dark rough-hewn beams with yellow buttercream walls, and plush, inviting booths.

And there''s no mistaking the fact that he''s a hands-on chef and owner. One of the ways you can pretty much tell that a chef is proud of his wares is by his presence in the front of the house. The chance to observe the main guy in the starched white coat not only somehow reassures the dining public, it says something about the way the chef feels toward what he''s selling. It''s also smart; it provides the coat with the most reliable method of seeing how he or she is doing. On the evening that we visited, Loutas didn''t hesitate to assist the friendly and gracious waitstaff and even delivered a plate or two himself, gaining points at the same time. We obliged by consuming every morsel.

In the classic French tradition, the amuse bouchee was the first item to arrive at the table, the "little mouthful" to keep your palate amused until the big guns arrive. These were small, delicate tartlets, filled with savory smoked salmon mousse and garnished with a tiny brunoise of sweet-tart cucumber and onion. Nice way to start. The house pate that followed from the list of starters was next, and ample enough for two pate snobs (and a bargain at $7). This was a country-style pork and duck liver version, studded with yummy pistachios and accompanied by all the traditional good stuff that can turn a good pate into a fine meal; good coarse mustard, a thin-sliced baguette, and a little salad of butter lettuce with sweet cherry tomatoes and kalamata olives. With a smooth glass of Côtes du Rhone, it made a delightful repast.

But there was more. It was a call to bouillabaisse that rang my bell, and I answered with gusto. The only thing I could find to wave my pinkie about was a dearth of broth; there was so much of the tasty, perfectly cooked prawns, mussels, clams, swordfish and bluenose sea bass (more points--it wasn''t the endangered Chilean variety) that more of the full-flavored broth would''ve been welcome. What I didn''t finish then became breakfast the next day.

Across the table, my dining companion declared her roasted rack of lamb to be "perfect." This one was served sliced and shingled on the plate, and a tender, true medium-rare as ordered. Nicely napping the lamb was the kind of red wine reduction sauce that bespeaks hours of labor, the kind that begins with a good veal stock that concentrates over time to an unmistakable, silky richness for which there is no short-cut. Rich creamy gratin potatoes and tiny haricot verts rounded out a lovely plate ($22).

Pressing on, creme brulee ($6) made for a fetching finale. All the things that creme brulee is supposed to be--oh-my-God rich, creamy, and better still, enough for two CB freaks. Artful, too. This version didn''t include the usual ramekin; the custard had been scooped into quenelles and resembled a three-petaled flower, covered in crackly burnt sugar and garnished with fresh berries. After the last satisfied groan, we had no doubt that we had dined.