Inspiration and polish keep Zoe a classic

Food lovers, you know the drill: Lark, Union, Tilth, Restaurant Zoe ...

Whoa!

Yes, Zoe.

The Belltown restaurant, brick charm on the outside and clean, well-lit warmth within, lost some buzz after its initial opening and strong reviews in 2000. Don't cry for chef-owner Scott Staples. Savvy regulars have kept its seats well-filled and its Zagat ratings high.

But after dining there, I'm shedding my own tears for being so dazzled by newer city lights that I've neglected mature luminaries like this one. Staples, chef de cuisine Daniel Newell and their experienced staff deliver a night that's full of polish as well as pleasure, a sense that they know what they're doing but are still having fun creatively. At its best (which it was on two of our three visits), Zoe ranks up with the finest New American restaurants in town; even when it drops to the next tier it's worth the price of admission.

In a rare note for Seattle, we're also inspired by memories of the service. The well-honed, welcoming employees add a layer of pleasure to the meal, from the first friendly smiles to the thoughtfully considered wine suggestions to a thorough familiarity with the menu. Items change regularly, but slowly -- a dish or two per week -- to give servers time to absorb what's new. By the second visit diners are considered regulars; by the third they're valued friends of the house.

With easy elegance, manager Tom Knowles and hostess Yemaya Maurer knit up any loose threads in the skein of service -- delivering an entree if a server is overbooked, checking with the kitchen to answer a question. Knowles particularly won our hearts when a piece of silverware dropped to the floor from our table. In seconds, his tall figure appeared, eyes scanning the tables to see which emitted the clink, hand grasping not just any piece of replacement silverware, but the fork he knew must have fallen.

The menu is a double handful of starters and about the same number of main dishes. They're generally seasonal, but full of surprises. Staples, who named the restaurant for his young daughter, isn't always cooking on the line -- he's busy preparing a new gastropub, Quinn's, named for his son. But big props to Newell: The only way to know if Staples is cooking is to ask. There are no telltale shortcomings on the plate.

		Scott Eklund / P-I
	Big eye tuna sashimi at Restaurant Zoe, a Belltown gem which sometimes gets forgotten in the buzz of new restaurants. The menu is mostly seasonal and full of lovely surprises.

When the first morels poked their way onto spring menus, the kitchen wasn't searing them with halibut the way they appeared on every other $20-plus platter in Belltown. Instead the little caps were unexpectedly cool, feinting against celery hearts and celery root puree in an Iron Chef battle of taste and textures, piled so high in their little salad that a couple could eat with abandon and not parse out which mycological treasure should go on whose plate. By August, the dish was smoothly translated into a heat-beating, buttony little heap of the earliest foraged chanterelles, circled by a ring of the soft, marinated green.

Zoe has a good feel for vegetables, giving tough roots and loner brassicas the same courtly attention as those easy prom queens, tomatoes and corn. Better than spring asparagus, for instance, were the hard, pickly, brutally good little ramps that shared the season, turning up by the side of a hearty pâté and loudly broadcasting their kinship to garlic.

In summer's heat, beet-mushroom salad sounded so dour it practically dared us to try it. A confetti of flavor, it soon made believers of us, arriving as small vegetable dice strewn in a sea of quinoa, featuring oranges and a sprightly thyme vinaigrette and pea-small housemade croutons sized for a doll's plate. Unannounced herbal flavors enliven many dishes -- a minus for the friend from Trieste, not a tarragon fan, on the night that herb was a pronounced theme -- but a plus if you happen to like it.

Zoe does fine by seafood. That's no surprise, given Staples' early accomplishments at the Third Floor Fish Cafe. Rockfish and cauliflower ($20) was more intriguing than trendsetting, but we found bigger successes. A handful of rotund scallops arrived perfectly seared (if dear at $28), so bursting with sweetness from the lentil-chanterelle mix on the sides we thought molasses was involved. The sugary romance, it turned out, was all thanks to the freshest corn.

		Seattle P-I

Meats are where Staples' heart now seems to lie. Ignore the one disaster on the menu, a block of $36.50 strip steak that practically could have been boiled, given its wan grayness and oddly smooth texture. Instead, for half the price, dig into rich, moist, saucy shards of boar in a slow-cooked Bolognese, coating fresh arugula pasta that held a rare peppery bite. An appetizer terrine of chicken and foie gras ($8) was chicken salad gone wild in an alternate universe, melding traditional ingredients such as apples and buttermilk dressing into a light luxury dish. Zoe reaches its peak in "The Whole Hog" ($21.25), name taken from the young beasts that come in their entirety to Zoe's kitchen. The finer cuts, such as tenderloin and chops, are saved for separate dishes. The rest -- shoulders, legs, head and all -- is patiently braised and pulled, then coated with reduced braising liquid and seasonings and chestnut puree. The preparation varies, but currently it's wrapped in caul fat, sautéed and served over a soft semolina gnocchi, sided by greens and beets. The title could refer to the diner as well as the dish after taking bite after irresistible bite; it's divinely, achingly, rich.

Like most Belltown addresses, Zoe has the price tag of a special-night-out place. Unlike some, it's worth the money, from the first slice of house-made bread to the last profiterole. Staples' wife, Heather, an interior designer, is responsible for the clean, neat, welcoming finish of the inside, which sports big windows, dark woods and creamy walls, warmly colored accents and a geometric pattern of orange glass ceiling lights. As you pass and look in the wide windows, the inside beckons. Next time, say yes.