Koo Zee Doo

Like the plaintive fado ballads sung by Mariza that tumble through the garlic-scented air and candlelit alcoves of KooZeeDoo, the flavors at this Northern Liberties BYOB exude the unabashed zest of pure Portuguese soul.

Fizzy vinho verde wine steeped with bay leaves and bell peppers adds swagger and snap to sublimely tender chunks of braised Berkshire pork that mingle with tiny cockles and briny littleneck clams. The liquid smoke of crisply rendered chouriço brings an earthy shine and crunch to the "duck rice," a terra-cotta crock brimming with rice enriched by duck stock and giblets topped with a rosy seared breast. And plump sardines, lightly grilled and vibrant with their distinctive marine tang, pose with roasted peppers over slices of rustic cornmeal broa bread like silvery emissaries of the Algarve coast.

That fabulously earthy broa, also served warm to start the meal with an addictive dish of pickled ivory tremoços beans (lupinis peeled and eaten like edamame), is baked in house by co-owner Carla Gonçalves, whose childhood and family in northern Portugal inform the genuine spirit of this unusual endeavor.

The more celebrated cuisine of neighboring Spain, of course, has been well explored from every tapas angle. But this is the first kitchen I've experienced in the States to elevate the authentic flavors of Portugal to another level. Some dishes might be familiar to those who have explored the pork-and-clam pots of the Portuguese cantinas in Northeast Philly and Riverside.

But Gonçalves' husband and partner, chef David Gilberg, 30, who did decent enough work in previous posts at the Ugly American and the opening of Coquette, has clearly stepped up his game to a higher level of inspiration. An apt comparison, perhaps, is what Konstantinos Pitsillides has done for traditional Cypriot flavors at Kanella.

At KooZeeDoo (the phonetic spelling of cozido, which means "cooked" in Portuguese) Gilberg and Gonçalves have a like-minded approach, an embrace of rustic food so convincing, they've managed to turn chicken gizzards - milk-soaked then braised with wine and a garlicky "refogado" base into tender dark-meat nuggets - into an unlikely best-seller.