The sign outside is discouraging. It's black with a saloon-esque typeface composed of light bulbs on a rotating circuit. Some of the bulbs are out. We're standing outside Dakota Tavern, a tiny new bar on Ossington. I'm vexed. Downtown to the core, I'm accustomed to slick and modern substance. Yet here I am, descending a stairway to a basement country-kitsch bar at Dundas and Ossington. This could be bad.

The thoroughly countrified air of this bar is immediately striking. With an aesthetically pleasing cowboy saloon-enhanced presentation, Dakota is absorbingly hip and impulsive. Doors and windows, purloined from a barn (sorry, Mr. Farmer), grace the walls. Dark wood-fashioned tables dot the room, while surprisingly comfortable (hemorrhoid donut not required) keg bar stools line the bar. Even the walls draw material from old barn wood. Patsy Kline kitsch is everywhere, carefully placed. All of Dakota's little, whimsical, sylvan elements add to a warm, fuzzy, tavern feeling.

The stage exemplifies Dakota's cozy dogma. While the entire bar is dimly lit by candles and soft lights, the stage is tricked out with a lantern, wooden crates, and white Christmas lights (at least until the band comes on). The small disco ball hanging overhead is a hallmark. Taken out of context, the individual components of Dakota's décor would reek of cheese though, in concordance, they ooze charm.

A fake fireplace (natch) lurks in the back, while Wild West (yee haw) light fixtures illuminate the room. The lighting, designed to look like gas or candle lamps, conjures bygone, cowpoke-eating-beans nostalgia (my cowboy imagery all comes from Blazing Saddles). A ceiling fan, naturally country style, rotates David Lynch slow. The out of place, gripped rubber floors, the only deviation from the prevailing boot and 10 gallon hat motif, should have been thick wooden planks, barely visible through four inches of peanut shells, but alas. Also, free swinging, wooden saloon doors and tumbleweeds would be nice, but this is Dundas and Ossington after all.

To sanctify the party crowd, Dakota offers pulsing, homespun music, soft lighting, a slate of beer and many resoundingly MOR wines by the glass. On the night of my visit, Elana McMurtry and her band played an amazing blend of original country, pop, and folk fusion, etherealized by her haunting voice. It was a Monday night and the bar stayed packed past midnight. Not your stereotypical pick-ups and grits country crowd, the Dakota draws a young, hip throng. Though a lot of energy has gone into Dakota's atmosphere, it retains an effortless vibe.