Full-Service Dining

Restaurant Vero appeals to regulars with hearty dishes and memorable attentiveness

** RESTAURANT VERO

5723 Lee Highway, Arlington

703-538-4600 www.restaurantvero.com

Open: for lunch Tuesday through Saturday 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m.; for dinner 5:30 to 9:30 p.m. Closed Sundays and Mondays. All major credit cards. No smoking. Street parking. Prices: dinner appetizers $5.50 to $8, entrees $15.50 to $22. Full dinner with wine, tax and tip about $50 per person.

As I pull my elderly Mercedes into an open space outside the door of the glass-fronted Restaurant Vero, Daisy seems fine. (Yes, my ride has a silly pet name.) But then, without warning and for all to see in the small, crowded dining room, an intense cloud of smoke rises from Daisy's engine. In an instant, the hostess comes out to offer assistance.

"The chef knows a lot about cars," she says. "He'll take a look at it after dinner. Come on in and relax." In what seemed like seconds, my friend and I are sipping excellent Chablis and dipping fine, house-made focaccia in a nutty, cracked-pepper-laced olive oil. And sure enough, when dinner is done, chef Jay Reinhardt takes a look under my hood.

Now, that's service.

Later, I learn that the chef's twin sister, Joy Reinhardt, who also owns Arlington Catering Co., opened Vero in January with her partner, Veronica Kunkel, in what was Cafe! Cafe! a deli-style restaurant. With what looks like a Pottery Barn budget and catalogue, the pair have created a sophisticated, intimate and very adult dining space. The warm earth tones, dark woods, soft fused lighting and simple framed mirrors establish a cozy nest at the end of a strip mall. The total effort appears to please the animated, middle-age crowd that fills Restaurant Vero. (With just 64 seats, it's best to make a reservation on any night.)

Kunkel, a veteran of several boutique wine shops, selects Restaurant Vero's fairly priced list of small-production vintages. The wine list emphasizes Italy but is full of surprises from Napa and Sonoma valleys and beyond.

When I ask Kunkel how she would describe the fairly short menu, she says, "fresh with a Mediterranean spin." But it's more complicated than that. In addition to the flavors and ingredients of Tuscany, there are salutes to the American South, California and Santa Fe. Not all of it works. Though it's easy to cheer for this jewel of a restaurant with its exceptionally friendly service and mellow atmosphere, I'm not always thrilled with what comes out of the kitchen. Sometimes it's because of the chef's love of heat.

Take a starter of "grilled polenta with duck ragu" with no mention of spices. Two wedges of nice-enough, grill-striped cornmeal mush come topped with a scoop of nuclear stew that sears my tongue. The same holds true for the otherwise superb trio of mini crab cakes of all lump meat that sit atop a fresh corn and tomato relish. The dish is topped with a fiery chipotle remoulade that has been given an unexpected and merciless jolt of cayenne pepper. Fortunately, the burn stops there.

To begin, I prefer the delicate, soft ravioli filled with minced, earthy mushrooms bathed in a light, white wine and cream sauce that reminds me of a memorable meal along the Amalfi Coast. And if you have a hankering for sea scallops, you can't go wrong with a small plate of baby greens and three plump, juicy big boys blackened with just enough spice rub and cooked splendidly to rare in the center.

Salads can be super. My favorite may be the refreshing mix of mesclun greens and chewy dried cranberries that has a button of warm, creamy goat cheese with a crunchy crust of herbs and panko. Another night, when Caesar comes to the table, an entire grilled heart of romaine fills the plate in a gorgeous presentation, drizzled with a tangy dressing and freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Not everyone loves beets. But I'm a fan of the roasted red and golden root salad arranged with baby arugula, a dab of creamy chevre cheese and dressed with just enough honey-Dijon vinaigrette.

Among the main dishes, there are also bumps in the road. A stuffed chicken roulade brings to mind something that might be served at a budget wedding reception; a shrimp with gnocchi combo is swimming in cream and has no taste of seasoning. A nice piece of grilled sea bass sits atop a bed of rock-hard rice.

Then again, when I ask my server, "What's the most popular entree?" she doesn't hesitate. "The pork ribs," she answers. "They're enormous." And sure enough, a huge portion of slow-braised, succulent, meaty bones arrives, steaming with a heady fragrance of garlic and olives, and accompanied by grilled squash and a thick-crusted potato pancake that hit the spot on a cold, wet night. Equally pleasing is the braised pork shank -- not just any chunk of leg bone but, as the menu tells me, a Kurobuta Berkshire heritage breed shank from Snake River Farms in Boise, Idaho. The flavor of the meat is worth all the words, rich and deep, complemented by the surrounding creamy bacon cheese grits and a collar of chopped, sauteed chard. And while we're talking hearty, I can't overlook the lamb osso buco, with tender meat falling off the bone and a lovely, slightly acidic tomato sauce with loads of fresh-tasting carrot and potato chunks.

A perfect way to end a Vero meal is with an elegant and airy fromage blanc gateau -- light, fresh cheese on a little platform of pound cake with sour cherries and a crown of spun sugar. Once again, it was recommended by the server and was the best dessert I tried.

The light salads, hearty meat dishes and individual service at Vero make me feel at home and relaxed. I like feeling as though I'm a regular who's onto something special. When I come in, the first thing I hear is: "How's Daisy?"

Walter Nicholls writes about food for The Post. Tom Sietsema is on assignment. To chat with Sietsema online, go to washingtonpost.com on Wednesdays at 11 a.m.