First-Class First Courses

Every dinner included a dish in which a supporting element made the meal. One night, thin slices of pink pork loin and a nest of cooked spinach were nudged to glory with corn fritters in the shape of fish sticks. Crisp and nubby outside, the slender snacks broke open to reveal steam and bright kernels of corn. More! More! Another time, chunks of phyllo-bound cod were upstaged by a delectable base of steamed clams and spicy sausage coins that suggested a Portuguese influence. The cod and damp pastry were a little wimpy; their frame was fantastic, though, and the entree got a nice kick from lashings of lemony aioli. But more often than not, eating an entree here makes me wish I had stuck with another appetizer. As big and tender as it is, for instance, the lamb shank needs more personality; the menu promised gremolata, but there was faint evidence of the vibrant seasoning when I sampled the dish.

Tip No. 2: Take advantage of Grapeseed's wine program. Long before Sonoma, EatBar and Proof -- long before every other restaurant rewrote its menu to embrace half-glasses of wine -- Grapeseed was giving customers the options of splashes and tasting flights along with traditional six-ounce pours. The suggested wine listed under each dish on the menu takes away customer guesswork, and the pairings I've sampled -- a floral French gewurztraminer with those mussels, a softly spicy Joel Gott zinfandel with that pork -- have been sensible and fun.

The best place to sit depends on your party. Solo acts might enjoy the bar or the kitchen counter with its close-up cooking show. Couples with something important to discuss should request one of the intimate booths, although those diners better have flat stomachs -- the seating is that snug. Small groups should book the vaulted wine cellar, which looks like something you'd encounter in Napa or Sonoma but will be grateful to find close to home; kept at 58 degrees, the cave comes with chef's coats for anyone who asks. Money for redecorating appears to have run out in the back of the restaurant, however, where the glass-enclosed dining room does a great impression of Siberia. "It's kind of sterile," I overheard a woman at a neighboring table say, as both of us looked longingly at the activity in the room in front of us. (Noise alert: The hard surfaces in the main dining area throw a lot of sound around.)

As for the service, I was recognized as a food critic at least twice by the staff at Grapeseed. The funny thing is, being outed doesn't necessarily mean a reviewer receives better service; sometimes, getting recognized just means more service. And so it was that halfway through a Manhattan one night, a waiter snatched my cocktail and poured the contents into another glass. "This one's chilled," he said to explain the exchange of stemware.

Short of a splash of great wine, the best way to end a meal is with an elegant round of coconut cream pie, its sweetness cut with a vivid passion fruit sauce. Otherwise, desserts are uninspired. The best part of an upscale riff on a s'more, based on a chocolate brownie, is its fluffy marshmallow topping (unsinged by any flame), while a Key lime cheesecake tastes citric enough to remove paint.

Tip No. 3: Reserve a few sips of wine from your appetizer course. Skip dessert, and reorder a favorite starter. Chocolate cake is on menus everywhere. Chicken livers a la Grapeseed are dear.

To chat with Tom Sietsema online, go to washingtonpost.com on Wednesdays at 11 a.m.