Smith's: Sidecar Boite

When I was 8, my Nanny showed me two of my now-favorite movie musicals: Gigi and Hello, Dolly. Yes, cliché. But yes, true. As she swanned around in her spotless white pantsuit in her spotless white apartment, she also tried to convince me to watch other classics like Casablanca and the Philadelphia Story. I resisted, thinking no dance, no deal.

Only when I was about 15, in my melancholy years of black turtlenecks and endless Ella Fitzgerald, did I take the time to follow her advice. After that...forget it. I couldn't get enough: fedoras, masculine pant suits on gorgeous women, Audrey OR Katherine Hepburn. And that's because there's nothing quite so glamorous or enthralling as that speak-easy vibe, especially to a 15-year-old who can do nothing but be awkward and well...15. Hidden nooks, chandeliers and velvet, beaded dresses and red lipstick, that whole idea of a femme fatale with cigarette smoke swirling overhead...hot.

No wonder I was instantly drawn to Smith’s. While you won’t always find a glitzy glamour puss there, you will find that same lively, sneaky vibe so reminiscent of the jazz age, with a layer of hospitable manners.

Like an actual (worthy) movie star that has the gift of effortless ease, the three rooms of this West Village haunt are a similar combination—studied shabbiness with sprinkles of class to remind us, this deb’s no dud. Mirrored tabletops in the front jewel-box room, a stark black and white palette and a red runner down the aisle of the railway-car middle room whisper cinematic sophistication. The hidden bar in the back is low-lit and outfitted with a tattered Persian rug and creaky stools for close chatting and sideways glances.The pedigree suggested by the décor is no coincidence. Smith’s is the newer baby of Danny Abrams of the successful Mermaid Inn, with partner Cindy Smith.

This legacy comes across intact as the gleaming white plates neatly reach the tiny tables. Although the space feels tight due to its design, Chef Justin Smilie's food is anything but, and it finds a friendly balance between haute-cuisine and haute down-home.

From the second category comes one of the spot’s best appetizers offered in the winter: A healthy portion of Anson Mills polenta is set atop gooey Gorgonzola, finished with a drippy sunny-side egg. Use a spoon to scoop up all of the components in one bite for a breakfast-turned-dinner dish you’ll never want to finish. Equally satisfying, if more standard dinner fare from that same season is the artichoke tagliatelle, with earthy black truffle, crunchy bits of prosciutto, slivers of salty parmigiano reggiano and a slick of olive oil and garlic that melts away with the al dente pasta.

From the summery menu, a jubilant heirloom salad is a seasonal luxury that lets the fruit's flavor do all the talking. Mussels with harisa, fennel and creme fraiche is zesty and soupy with just the right kick of heat. But the grilled quail is the tiny knockout of the bunch: Sweet meat from what I usually find to be a boring bird is spiked with pancetta and softened by peaches and a pecan pesto. All together, the dish hits every note of tasty...done and done.

When available, crisp sautéed brussel sprouts are a perfect side to any of the forthcoming entreés, but the shaved zucchini is a waste of the vegetable; the amount of oil adorning the poor strips makes the healthy option anything but.

Of the main courses, there are more wows than flops, and the food has a clear elegance that translates into flavor combinations that aren't extravagant. Instead, they're a nod to tried-and-true winners with a splash of pizazz.

For a special, succulent lobster was matched by a sweet, but not overpowering butternut squash puree and a few leaves of garlicky brussel sprouts—a blissful dish that left me wanting to lick the plate. Equally satisfying is the roast lamb saddle. Although the scarlet cut looked undercooked, one bite highlighted magnificently tender meat, with a tangy parmigiano purée served underside to reduce the fat's power. Less thrilling, the grilled dorade was uninspiring, with a simple vinaigrette for diners of the more conservative brand. The swordfish was an easy classic that my diet-conscious friend enjoyed, especially the zucchini and basil accessories that filled her green quota. The surprising, sleeper hit of the bunch, though, was the whole trout. The tender flesh was paired with killer friends, ham and pine nuts, that emboldened the purist dish in a more decadent approach than fish usually gets.

Desserts are a restrained but enjoyable affair. Old-school affogato makes an appearance for those ending on the classy note. But for those of us who want to dig in with nose in whip cream, the peach shortcake would make a girl from Georgia proud.

The wine list is inclusive and broad, with plenty of half-bottles (like the crisp Pouilly fume) for those not willing to dunk into pricier pools. If you are, check out the healthy choice of stunners like the velvety Kunin Zinfandel or Pape Star that the spot sometimes stocks.

For each part this balance is how Smith’s approaches your experience: Surprises if you’d like, simple pleasures if you don’t. Like an old black-and-white that makes you want to smoke a European cigarette as you watch it over and over, the young Smith’s makes it easy to return, and quickly becomes an old favorite.

Smith's
Rating: Excellent
Address: 79 MacDougal St.
Phone: 212.260.0100