Dream Grill

It wasn't surprising, then, that desserts were more pretty than substantial. Franklin liked the ginger-pear cheesecake, but there wasn't enough to share. Shelby was almost too intimidated to touch the three dainty Christopher Elbow chocolates laid out like tiny dark gems on a white porcelain platter. "The presentation's incredible if you're, like, a doll," Shelby said. "But all this for three chocolates? And I'm sorry, they're not that great."

But, honey, they looked fabulous, and isn't that what counts?

When I returned on a busy Saturday night with Bob and Jerry, Nara's dining room was packed with young, attractive diners enjoying themselves at top volume. "Is it always this noisy?" asked Jerry (who had to repeat the question twice before I heard what he was saying).

Our server that night was the charismatic Eric, a former model, former Café Trocodero waiter and one of the few staffers who didn't handle water glasses by the rim or call you "Bud" in a butch growl. Not that waiter-ogling Jerry would have minded being called Bud, Mr. Robato or anything else.

"Everyone working here is so attractive," Jerry said before turning his attention to the slices of lightly seared ruby ahi tuna that I'd ordered as an appetizer. He eyed the plate nervously. Raw meat — tuna, at least — isn't really Jerry's thing, but he bravely dipped a tuna slice into the swath of chili-sesame rub and nibbled on it. "It's very good," he said. Bob and I thought it was superb.

I decided to eat lightly that night and supped elegantly on a bowl of gingery broth filled with firm pork meatballs and egg noodles, a comforting choice for a cold night. Jerry chose the chili, and Bob settled on a couple of spring rolls, but they were more interested in people-watching than eating. When Adams made his customary appearance at the table, introducing himself to us while staring into the distance, Bob thought he was rude. I interpreted his behavior as performance art.

"I wonder why he opened a restaurant," Bob said as Casey ventured off, "instead of going to New York to become an actor."

I later asked chef Terry Barkley the same question. "Casey loves everything Japanese," Barkley answered. "He loves the food, the culture, the style."

Has he ever been to Japan?

"No," Barkley said. "But he has been to Hawaii. That's where he got the idea for a robata restaurant."

And his father does, I should point out, sell Toyotas, which are from Japan.

But who gives a damn about where the inspiration comes from? The important thing is that Nara has style, flair and a divine bowl of chili. And if that makes it the hottest new restaurant in town, nothing else matters for now.