Suburban love affair

It's a question often posed: Are there restaurant spaces that are doomed? Everyone knows those spots where, inexplicably, restaurant after restaurant opens, only to slip into history. Sometimes a restaurant comes along that breaks the cycle, but not often.

Tryst, which recently opened in Arlington Center, may be one of those restaurants that can overcome the history of its location. The large space, located opposite the Arlington Library, used to house a department store, and in 2001 a restaurant called Tea Tray in the Sky opened in it. The place was whimsically decorated with "Alice in Wonderland'' books, illustrations, and fanciful teapots that were fun to look at -- there was also a tea shop in the front of the library -- but didn't quite warm up the space. The chef was creative, too, but somehow the place felt lonesome, and never seemed to attract enough diners to make it a vibrant destination. Elements, restaurant that followed, lasted only months.

Now Paul Turano, who also owns Olio in Canton, brings Tryst to this problematic space. For Turano, Tryst represents a bigger stage; Olio is tiny, and the chef cooks in plain view of the diners. Here, the cooking is behind closed doors, and the ambience is a little more formal. The dining room has been redone in a masculine palette of earth tones, with red and taupe stripes around the top of the walls and handsome blond wood flooring. Dividers and padded booths along one side help break up the interior expanse. It's a much better arrangement than the open floor plan of Tea Tray, though there's an oddly dead space between the cozy bar at the front and the main dining area. A little more light in the entranceway would help make it more welcoming. However, with generally friendly and competent service, a wine list that's not exceptional but offers selections that match the food, and comfortable seating, Tryst is getting there.

Turano's food provides the spark. He tops long triangular wedges of flatbread with tuna slices, grilled at the edges and rare inside. He piles on arugula and fried shallots, and finishes the plate with pools of a garlicky aioli. The dish is a pleasure to eat, pretty and yet substantial enough to share. The "Trysted Caesar" has a catchy name -- at the top of the menu is a dictionary-type definition of "tryst," ending with "a love affair with food and wine" -- but is pleasingly straightforward and served with good toasted bread. An appetizer of pan-seared scallop over celery root puree hits several high notes: The scallop is lovely and creamy inside its crust, the flavor of the celery root is enjoyably elusive -- not-quite-but-almost tart -- and a salad of finely julienned apples adds a sweet note.

Except for a few dalliances with Asian flavors and some retro favorities like iceberg salad, Turano's menu sticks to mixing some Mediterranean flavors with a broad sweep of American tastes. An early stab at a separate chophouse menu was jettisoned, Turano says in a phone interview, when the steaks didn't sell well. His regional bent is showcased in a roasted cod dish with chowder as an inspiration. A fat piece of fish rests on a smokey salt-cod-and-potato cake and is surrounded by a pool of slightly creamy sauce dotted with mahogany clams. It's a gutsy dish, bright in flavors and colors, showing off skill in both saucing and fish cookery.

He does fine, too, on the execution of pan-roasted skate, a famously tricky fish to do right since the thin fillets can easily dry to toughness. Perhaps in a reaction to the fear that skate, usually a bargain at the seafood market, will be too plain, however, the lightly crusted fish is submerged under poached shrimp, green beans, fennel, and tiny potatoes. The result is a stack of ingredients without a theme, making it next to impossible to taste the skate. Too bad, because it's quite delicious.

Golden trout, with flesh that resembles pink coho salmon, gets an elaborate treatment, but the elements fit together. The fish is stuffed with a lobster and cornbread dressing and then wrapped in bacon for a hearty and satisying dish, sort of a seafood alternative to roast turkey.

Turano's approach works especially well with meat dishes. Lamb chops are cut into big, Porterhouse portions; the meat is succulent, and the accompaniments of spiced couscous and spinach bring out the lamb's flavor. Cooler weather sets the stage for stewy autumnal braises about now, although many restaurants seem to find that beef short ribs are so popular that they leave them on the menu through the warm months. Tryst's short ribs are fork-tender but slightly greasy, and even the horseradish whipped potatoes can't hide that fact. Veal osso bucco is a little too braised, but still has better texture than the ribs, and the parsnips, carrots, and pearl onions with it make for a full autumn root-vegetable experience. Flattened roast chicken, usually called "chicken under a brick,'' is a current menu favorite, and that's what Tryst dubbed it on a late summer menu. Though the skin was crisp and the flesh moist, this was not a flattened bird at all -- not that we cared, since the chicken, with its accompaniment of green and wax beans, was delicious. On a later menu, the description is amended to the more accurate roast chicken and added roast garlic.

Although his presentation is appealing, Turano doesn't follow the less-is-more style, and his plates are full, each dish offering a starch as well as ample vegetables beyond the protein. Still, the wisdom of saving room for dessert becomes apparent when a souffled lemon pudding served in a martini glass arrives: Light and tart and sweetly fulfilling, it's a grand ending. Pumpkin cheesecake is mostly just sweet, and a creme brulee very conventional. A chocolate Napoleon matches very good chocolate custard layers with paper-thin and almost tasteless wafers, a rather unsatisfying version of the layered puff pastry and custard original. In contrast, an apple tart isn't unusual but is very good, proving sometimes tradition trumps innovation.

Turano has a sure hand in the kitchen, giving Tryst an advantage over the restaurants that preceded it. After all, isn't the third try the lucky one?