Bar or restaurant? Church splits the difference.

What a difference a door makes. At Church, a new restaurant and bar tucked into a quiet pocket in the Fenway area, it's a matter of, "What's behind door No. 1 and door No. 2?" Answers: a Hard Rock Cafe and a Pottery Barn, figuratively speaking.

If you walk into the first door, you'll be in the bar, where the click and clack of billiards competes with whatever rock soundtrack is being piped in at the moment (or possibly a DJ or live band). Walk down to the next door, and you're inside the upscale restaurant, where someone has decided to cue the elevator jazz, dim the lights, burn vanilla candles in the bathrooms, and adorn the walls with giant photos of creepy gargoyles. Oddly, the two aren't connected, and you have to exit and enter each from the street; the disconnect couldn't be more obvious.

Head to the restaurant first. That's what we did earlier this week, with just three other tables dining at 8:30 on a Monday. Perhaps it gets crowded on the weekends, but you'll notice this place has all the reverence and quietude you'd expect of a restaurant named Church. It's not quite a sanctuary (and our deadpan waiter was a breath of comic relief), but it's certainly not an overrun hot spot, which has its perks, of course.

Church tries hard and wants to do well, and we hope it does, too. But so far, it's a little timid and too laid back - you know, kind of like that bashful girl in high school who rarely talks, but when she does, you realize she's, like, totally into Tom Waits and saving Darfur and way cooler than you'll ever be.

That's Church. It's a bit reserved after opening a little more than a month ago, but once people catch on (particularly the Fenway crowd), it has every reason to flourish on this stretch mostly known for the nearby El Pelón Taqueria. The food alone deserves a fan base. Chef Andy Beer has devised a menu that's both casual and pleasing, a good mix of high-end fare and comfort food. He just needs to lay off the salt in a few dishes; you shouldn't feel dehydrated from an appetizer soup of lentils with smoked pork, after all.

Usually, though, he's right on the mark. A caramelized onion tart with Gruyere cheese had the gooey goodness a brisk evening calls for, with a smear of pureed fig as the perfect accompaniment. And the crispy spring rolls with sushi-grade tuna were a big hit with nearly the whole table and got an extra zing from the spicy peanut sauce on the side.

The entrees drew envy - everyone coveted their neighbors' choices. Every entree except mine, that is. A salt shaker must have fallen onto my baked cod fillet (I kid, but that's an apt description), and I wished I had ordered the pan-seared halibut - a note-perfect flaky fish atop a creamy, fuchsia-colored ragout of beets and sunchoke.

Likewise, the eggplant rollatini made a believer out of a diehard eggplant hater, but then, with all those Italian cheeses, marinara sauce, and hunk of garlic bread, what's not to like? The grilled cheeseburger doesn't really belong on this menu, but it's a nice addition for less-adventurous diners.

On a visit the next night, we dropped by the bar, where the silence was nearly deafening. "Did we just interrupt a private party?" we asked the friendly bartender. "No, they're just giving swing lessons up front," she said, admitting that she, too, had been practicing her moves a little earlier in the night. The evening's DJ is about to spin a set called "Swingology" (since when are Dusty Springfield and Bill Withers considered swing music?), and he's giving quick lessons to the handful of patrons waiting for the music.

It's low-key to the point of loneliness in the bar, where you can order a few items from the restaurant's menu and some extra sandwiches. A glass of pumpkin ale goes down rather quickly, but then the music starts and people start spinning across the floor. Here's hoping they keep it up and bring their friends with them.

Church, 69 Kilmarnock St., 617-236-7600, churchofboston .com. Appetizers: $6-$13. Entrees: $15-$28. Wines by the glass: $6.50-$11.

James Reed can be reached at jreed@globe.com.