Antonio's Other Baby

Antonio is a restaurant guy. Ana is Antonio's daughter. Ana's is Antonio's restaurant. A guy like Antonio--and I'm guessing, as someone who has never worked in food service and ranks "Eat at every restaurant in the world" above "Open own restaurant"--can work in someone else's restaurant for only so long before needing a place to call his own. Maybe he wanted to be the one to go around and make sure everyone was happy; maybe he was tired of hiding his long, straight hair under a hairnet. Either way, he got his wish on Broadway between 102nd and 103rd Streets, where he serves up "American Cuisine with a Mediterranean flair."

After only three weeks of preparation, Ana's opened Oct. 15 ("A date I will never forget," Antonio assured me) to a warm reception from its neighbors. Columbia students have been trickling in little by little over the past three weeks to find that the warm atmosphere and sophisticated cuisine are well worth the walk.

Rachel is the Jack-of-all-trades at Ana's; her favorite task seems to be making recommendations. She sold us on the Spanish Chardonnay ($6) to wet our whistles for the appetizers ahead. The crisp, subtle vintage foreshadowed the attention that goes into everything Ana's serves.

The Maryland crab cake ($8.50) was delicious. Sandwiched between a dried beet strip and cubed beet salad, spread around a horseradish and mustard sauce, it bordered on unforgettable. The wild mushroom and truffle risotto with asparagus ($7.95) has been popular enough after only three weeks that it is going to gain scallops and make the leap to entree. The risotto arrived just as Frank Sinatra emerged from the speakers, like a light coming down from the heavens. It complied happily with Frank's request to "please be true," while showing the room for growth of some of the more experimental dishes.

The pepper tuna ($17.95) came on a very hot plate with a very cool center. It was an island of calm in a chaotic sea of couscous, ponzu sauce, and horseradish-beet infusion. The fine fish made sense of the palatable pandemonium, though I couldn't help but think that less would have been slightly more. The rack of lamb ($16.95) found sense in simplicity. The braised lentils and rosemary jus had 20 years experience behind them and still maintained the virtue of a home-cooked meal.

The peach cobbler ($6) had a crispy top in the spirit of crème brûlée, but one bite showed that it had been cooked all the way through. Still, the large pieces of fruit stayed a notch above stew consistency, as their sweetness spread into every bite. The flourless chocolate cake ($6) needed flour, but a dollop of vanilla ice cream helped the cause.

Some of Ana's biggest fans have dined there seven or eight times already. They are the reason Antonio went into business by himself. As I was leaving, he was sitting with one such couple as they swooned over the paella. Once they had said their piece and succumbed to the saffron, Antonio said, "The price is right, and we're nice here." From a student's perspective, the former is up for debate. Ana's stands on the spot where two restaurants--both of which probably had a similar philosophy--opened and closed in the past three years. But things look promising in Ana's early days, thanks to a man who loves to feed strangers almost as much his own daughter.