The entrees are stylish and urbane, but the desserts are literally made in Mom's kitchen - that is, the 70-year-old mother of the chef-owner, David Fioravanti.
The fare is too light and saucy to be described as comfort food. But where to place the "Yankee" pork pot roast with whipped potatoes and gravy, or the creamy sweet seafood chowder?
Curiously, it's impossible to detect any influences from the 14 years that Fioravanti, a 1981 graduate of the Restaurant School, spent in Hawaii, other than the seared Mahi Mahi entree.
Fioravanti, 39, is a purist when it comes to using certain ingredients and fresh produce, and yet he also likes to create an exotic layering of tastes.
He jokes that he is a "stacking man," meaning that he likes to create visually appealing constructions with a sauce pooled around the plate.
From what I tasted, he excels at sauces, whether it's the consomme that came with my veal ravioli appetizer or the Thai curry coconut creamy sauce that gives a slight punch to a jumbo shrimp entree.
Fioravanti's signature creamy polenta never comes across as mere cornmeal, and it makes a repeat performance in several entrees on the menu.
In a sauteed mushroom appetizer, for instance, there are such blind-date combinations as a homely Parmesan polenta and a tangy balsamic port reduction.
As for the decor, that, too, has some disparate elements, which might bother some diners.
Opened three years ago in a former deli, the shoe-box-shaped restaurant is dimly lit and doubles as an art gallery. It has attractively set tables with linen napkins, but also bare table tops and wood bistro-style chairs.
The open kitchen allows one to get up close to the gregarious Fioravanti, as well as David Wassel, the chef de cuisine.
But openness also can mean an end to intimacy - yours if you are part of a couple, perhaps - in this often deafeningly noisy restaurant.
