Tom Sietsema re-reviewed 1789 on January 25, 2009.

No matter who's cooking there, tradition has always been part of a visit to 1789 in the shadow of Georgetown University. Gentlemen are required to wear jackets, the reservation taker reminds callers. The bar looks as if it has been decorated with 1962, the restaurant's birth date, in mind. And in all the years I've been eating there, I've never been handed a menu that hasn't included that continental staple, rack of lamb.

So you can imagine why the new chef at the most genteel of Washington's American restaurants opted not to put one of his favorite ingredients on the bill of fare. Given all the simple salads and grilled beef and that lamb Daniel Giusti says he sells on weekends in particular, eel might have had only a brief run.

Giusti, 24, was promoted to the top cooking job last spring after the departure of Nathan Beauchamp, under whom he served as sous-chef. In the early months, whether by instruction or personal choice, Giusti seemed to be playing it safe. Now it seems the chef has loosened up a bit.

Broccoli and snails might not sound like a match, but the way he puts them together in soup (the broccoli is pureed, the snails are fried in beer batter), adding creme fraiche for tang, suggests the guy knows what he's doing. Venison loin, ruddy and succulent, shows up with diced sweet potatoes, a dab of mustard greens and a zippy trail of mole. Skate, lightly dusted with flour and cooked to a delicate crisp, is treated to cool frisee, smoky bits of bacon and a scattering of tart, Christmas-red pomegranate seeds. The Civil War-era wood on the walls and vintage prints in the Manassas Room, my favorite destination on the ground floor, tell me I'm at 1789, although a pool of Parmesan-enriched risotto decorated with bites of winy quail suggests I'm dining in one of the city's better Italian outposts.

That risotto is one of several terrific appetizers featured in one of the best bargains in the city these days: 1789's three-course dinner for $40. Considering the $35 average for entrees and the ambiance, the deal is even sweeter. Each dining room has a distinct personality, but each enjoys flickering table lamps, nooks for intimate gatherings, classical music that doesn't interfere with conversation and solicitous service. The jacketed servers go about their duties without drawing undue attention to themselves, except they're so gracious and charming you can't help but wish more restaurants followed their example.

Appetizers tend to be more interesting than entrees here, but that's true of a lot of restaurants. And now and then, a dish leaves the kitchen that makes me think the chef might have the night off, such as one visit's wet monkfish. Yet your first impressions erase any thought of a recession and make you anticipate the next bite. Among the luscious gifts from the chef have been a stamp of tuna nuzzled with yuzu foam, and a bite of lobster set against a sliver of grapefruit and basil oil.

Pastry chef Travis Olsen gives diners some delicious reasons to linger after the main courses have been cleared. Like Giusti, he likes to offer tradition with a spin or two. A lot of restaurants feel duty-bound to offer chocolate torte, and 1789 is no exception. But Olsen distinguishes his fudgy cake with sliced kumquats, orange-flavored creme fraiche and a fennel seed-flecked wafer that arches over the centerpiece. An igloo of tangerine sherbet "painted" with a thin layer of cranberry sorbet is both beautiful and refreshing; the brilliant bombe is surrounded by a shallow moat of custard sauce that gets a nice lift from cardamom. Our new president, reported to be a pie admirer with a penchant for pumpkin, should consider a slice here, where shards of pumpkin seed brittle and a dollop of thick caramel dress up the main event.