When Lark hits the mark, it's 4-star Ph.Dining

Like a hard-core shopper at a Barney's sale will tell you, it's wonderful to have so many options, but it can also be a bit daunting when it comes time to make decisions. (Servers also offer to put together meals, if that's easier.)

First, however, you have to get a table. Lark doesn't take reservations (except for two seatings of six per night), so on a recent Wednesday there was a 30-minute wait. That allowed our party of three to sample the handcrafted cocktails and spectacular bites next door at Lark's liquid little sister, Licorous.

		Joshua Trujillo / P-I
	The pork tenderloin at Lark is served as an entrée during the family-style dining experience -- but you may have to wait for it.

Happy conversation filled the room as our party studied the menu. After careful consideration, we ordered jamon serrano, chilled tomato soup and roasted Portuguese sardines to start, followed by pork tenderloin, squab breast and octopus. I asked for rosti potatoes, Bluebird Grain Farms farro and Oxbow Farm baby carrots to arrive with the second course, the "entrees."

All was swell for the first round, though the server who delivered the sardines was clueless about taking out the bones. The recovering trout fisherman at the table performed a demo on the wonderfully flavorful, expertly prepared fish.

The thinly sliced Spanish ham was a big hit, its sweet/salty character enhanced by roasted red peppers and Marcona almonds. The tomato soup was a little awkward to share. Spoons jockeyed for position to snag some of the fantastic fromage blanc floating in the middle.

After those first dishes were cleared, there was a considerable gap to the next course. And then a cast iron casserole of the sweetest carrots arrived. Surely the meat and fish will be right out? So we waited. And waited. And out came the potatoes. And we waited some more.

A word from the server would have been helpful at this point, a comforting, "Your dinner will be right out," or, "Go ahead and eat your side dishes before they get cold."

The veggies were nearly devoured by the time the other dishes arrived, and the mood at our table had soured. It wasn't just the pacing out of the kitchen that was off, either. Our server -- so charming at the start -- seemed distracted. Water glasses went unfilled until we asked. Did I really need to flag somebody down to order another glass of the outstanding Chinook cabernet franc rosé? Guess so.

By the end of that frustrating dinner, I couldn't help wondering if I was really eating at a restaurant helmed by the best chef in the Northwest.

The next time in, though, was a stunning turnaround. I arrived much earlier, the late afternoon sun giving me the chance to appreciate the beautiful dining room in a whole new light. The homey space is lined with booths on one side of the room, banquette seating on the other, tables in the middle, gauzy curtains cleverly adding a feeling of privacy without making diners feel closed off.

		Joshua Trujillo / P-I
	The super creamy burrata at Lark, served with tomatoes from Billy's Farm and fresh basil, is one of the best caprese salads outside of Italy.

From a cozy corner table for two, I saw newbies struggle with the same challenge of sorting out the menu. But I had a game plan, and it worked beautifully.

First, a trio of winning starters: the carpaccio of yellowtail with preserved lemons and green olives; the Ninety Farms spicy greens with baby beets and chevre crostini, and the burrata with tomatoes, basil and olive oil croutons.

The exquisite yellowtail was the finest sashimi-esque preparation I've ever sampled -- impressive knife work on display, from the buttery slices of fish to finely chopped chives. A simple, but gorgeously composed plate. The spicy greens provided a bracing contrast to the rich fish. And the tender, super creamy burrata forever spoiled me for any other version of mozzarella. Tomatoes from Billy's Farm and basil turned this into the best caprese I've eaten outside Italy.

These were a tough act to follow, but the evening's fish special -- a "marbled" king salmon -- was an outstanding setup to a trio of cheeses: a silky cow's milk from Seastack in Port Townsend, a tangy Wynoochee River blue from Montesano, and a Corsican sheep's milk cheese with a nutty quality.

If Lark were in my 'hood, I would sneak in all the time for the cheese alone. It's what I saw a single diner doing during one visit, having a glass of wine and the burrata before making a quick exit.

		Seattle P-I

But even this meal was a mix of Mount Rainier highs and bottom-of-the-sound lows. On the plus side: a sumptuous Snake River Farms Wagyu sirloin that made me wish every steak tasted so amazingly flavorful; an intensely rich foie gras terrine paired with black figs and balsamic vinegar; the terrific pork belly; a poached duck egg that was perfect for two. On the minus: a Mediterranean mullet paired with bits of chorizo that had been in the sauté pan so long they were rock hard, and a batch of clams that was terribly sandy, undercooked and rubbery. (When we barely touched the clams, the server asked what went wrong and took them off the check.)

Dessert helped hoist the evening back into memorable meal territory, thanks to a refreshing melon sorbet served in a champagne flute, with sparkling wine poured over the icy fruit treat. A mascarpone tart was rich, topped with roasted figs and a wild heather honey ice cream that was as complex as a glass of Sauterne.

Lark offers some dining challenges and a few disappointments. Maybe the menu is too large and the kitchen should sharpen its focus. Still, when it's good, Lark is four-star good, definitely worthy of that national recognition.