'STER CRAZY: Among Gayle's intriguing combinations is foie gras, oyster and house-smoked salmon. : Michael T. Regan

Stern is a classically trained chef—you have to be to be able to go off on as many riffs as he does in his kitchen. Like a jazz artist, he starts with one concept and then embellishes it.

One of the current fads, and I'm really not sure who started it, is to serve a dish in two or three styles on the same plate. For example, "clams, chowder and casino" was fairly straightforward—a tasty clam under a casino topping of bacon and bell peppers, and a small bowl of rich, briny chowder. "Smoked salmon, apples and potato" comprised a swirl of pink salmon mounted on a salad of apples and potatoes with a bit of salmon chopped in with it. These are simple enough, but "#9 Combination: Tastes of tuna and lamb" still eludes.

After checking out the wine list, still a work in progress and a bit pricey at that, we found a bottle of white Bordeaux and settled down with the excellent house-baked bread and a butter containing garlic, chives and parsley. There was also a lovely tray of amuse-bouches: a little foie gras toast, a salmon mousse with cucumber and tiny puff pastry with a dab of cheese. Nibbling these, we approached the menu. Now, I can handle menus in French, Italian and Spanish, and this is the first time I have ever had to have a menu explained to me. The food is really not that complicated, but it sure sounds that way. A hefty slice of foie gras came with fresh water chestnuts poached in red wine, a combination to sit up and take notice of, but not one that is particularly to my liking. It also had a ribbon of eggplant puree running around it, and a drizzling of edamame on top—too much gilding on the gras. Risotto was shaped into little logs, breaded and crisped, and accompanied by a truffled soy mixture. This was good—the crunchy logs, creamy at the center, the earthy note in the dipping sauce. Our wine and our first course arrived simultaneously, and I wished we had had a bit more time to savor the amuse-bouches. I wondered why the service is so swift, and a little later, I discovered why. It seems that on Thursday, Friday and Saturday evening you may only choose from two menus: one of three courses for $45 and one of five courses for $62. Monday to Wednesday is á la carte, and by the time we were leaving, all the bon chic bon genre of the neighborhood were attacking the little bar.

Since we had chosen the three-course dinner, our next course arrived quite promptly. I had looked longingly at the tuna, lime and octopus ceviche, but thought it just wouldn't work on one of the colder nights of this strange winter. One companion chose the skate, a wonderful fish enhanced by the scent of orange but too liberally sprinkled with lotus seeds, as exotic as they may be. A hush puppy on the side proved to be a fritter of onion and Gruyere cheese fondue, quoth the waitress. "Smoked tenderloin, shepherd's pie" was a few slices of delicious beef and a little tower of all that composes a traditional shepherd's pie—mashed potato, meat, and perhaps peas or a carrot or two. My companion enjoyed this immensely, and I kind of liked my veal stew as well. It was deconstructed—lots of baby carrots, pearl onions and spinach cooked just right, and a chunk of very tender veal on the side, and, oh yes, the same hush puppy, which I really liked. "Chicken, Purple and Green" and "Surf and Turf"—we won't even go there.

Just when I was beginning to think that the desserts were a bit more straightforward, I see "Breakfast," a gooey sticky bun with a pot de crème of coffee and chocolate topped by whipped cream. A cinnamon almond souffle was absolutely luscious—soft in the center, warm and smelling heavenly. Tastes of cheese, salad and sorbet turned out to be just that—a bit of salad and melon, a few semi-soft artisanal cheeses and a thrilling sorbet of fennel—the same delicate green as the walls and menu covers, and only slightly anise-y, more like what spring tastes like.

What exactly is Daniel Stern trying to accomplish? I think originality trumps trendiness, for I only spotted two trends, and the menu was surely sprung full-blown from Stern's fertile brain. When you are the boss, freedom can sometimes make you giddy. The boyishly charming Mr. Stern is a seasoned chef, and if he wants a little fun with his food, so be it. I'm not sure whether he is just looking for a groove, or he likes the idea of his staff reciting the menu, chapter and verse. Either way, Gayle is certainly a fresh presence in the neighborhood, and not easily forgotten.

Gayle

No wheelchair access. No smoking. Reservations necessary. All major credit cards.