Patrons who learned to eat well in the ’80s find the food and atmosphere comfortably luxe. Soaring walls are adorned with huge mirrors and abstract paintings, columns are draped in golden fabric, and everything is bathed in glowing yellow light. Chef Bruce Woods makes a virtue out of simplicity. Miniature crab cakes are divine, so plump with crabmeat they threaten to fall apart onto the stripe of mango-jalapeño salsa that divides the plate. In mains, tangy accoutrements perk up rich proteins: tomato, black olive and slippery slivers of roasted red pepper for flaky baked sea bass; crisp artichoke-fennel salad and tarragon foam for huge seared scallops. Well-executed, beefy venison tenderloin comes with soft onions, a silky foie gras–madeira jus and a cape gooseberry chutney. Serious cheeses are a viable alternative to such comforting desserts as apple-raspberry galette with vanilla ice cream and rum-caramel sauce. Exceptionally smooth servers make regulars feel like royalty. Wine is a cornerstone, whether gathered onto a list with strength in big reds and after-dinner treats, or stored for collectors in an impressive bank of personal lockers in the dining room. Mains $32–$49.