Some might argue that 31st Street between Broadway and 5th Avenue is a funny place to put a restaurant. While the location may be bordering the southern edge of Korea Town, on the whole, the block is something of a wasteland. Without tough nearby competition, this is an ideal area for a decent restaurant, however as a place where passersby are unlikely to casually stroll past and drop in, this address could also be the resto’s demise. Can Ayza Café and Wine Bar help to launch the area’s transformation into a culinary destination? I believe that it can.

What kind of a name is Ayza? I wondered. Is it a quirky play on the Alphabet? The cuisine and the staff’s accents suggest some cross between Mediterranean and Eastern European. So that lands us where, Austria? All was revealed when I discovered the owners’ names, Aytac Nural and Zafer Sevimcok, and the name-merging strategy became clear.

Upon entering Ayza, patrons are left with no questions surrounding the Wine Bar theme, as the wide and shallow space features a bar centrally located with seating areas on either side. Two long, high benches upholstered in a warm red fabric face each other in the designated seating area that is punctuated with small tables. This allows occupants to look either out the wall of windows or at the action going down at the bar. Side-by-side bench seating seems to be favored by people-watchers and lovey-dovey couples, though chairs can be place at each table for larger groups. Rectangular pendant lamps with linen shades hang from the ceiling and complete the cozy ambience.

We started the meal with tuna tartare with fresh avocado, crème fraîche, and sweet fish roe. Raw tuna seems to be popping up every time you open a menu these days, with avocado as a frequent accomplice, but the crème fraîche set this dish refreshingly apart from the masses. Next came a platter of cheeses and charcuterie (the generic French term for cured and cooked meats, usually pork-based, of which we chose three and two, respectively, from a list that features five of each. The meat-and-cheese-oriented can select either three or five items from the combination of Column A and Column B, and they come with fresh peaches, champagne grapes and fig mustard. Our cheeses were soft Bucheron, made from goat’s milk, hard Hoch Ybrig from Switzerland, and semi-soft Tête de Moine, served in its typical curly-topped cone shape, looking something like a small bouquet of cream-colored frisée. At their side was salty, dark red Bresaola and wild boar Prosciutto. The whole plate was a dream. The cheese went especially well with the fruit, and I got the sense that even had we chosen the five options that didn’t make the cut this time, we more or less couldn’t have gone wrong.

When I asked our waitress what goat cheese in pâte de brick was, I worried that her hesitation before comparing it to a blintz might be due to the distance between English and her mother tongue. But her description turned out to be perfect. My plate featured a bed of greens upon which lay the loveliest of gifts: goat cheese with honey, thyme, and rosemary, cradled in crisp pastry and drizzled with a balsamic glaze. If you have never had the pleasure of tasting goat cheese and honey together, now is the time. The herbs did the divine pairing one better. We also ordered the medallions of filet mignon with roasted port shallots. The meat was flavorful, but was thin and lacked the sear we expected, almost appearing to have been boiled. The shallots were nicely caramelized and there was a small green salad flavored with truffle oil.