That is the problem with describing this food. If the devil’s in the details, we’ll surely be here for days describing how Posteraro has duped the devil. The tumid scallop was seared rare and tender as a scallop ought to be, and was right at home in the tatin, whose folie were crisp on the outside and layered with sliced caramelized artichoke hearts on the inside. A glass of Sandhill Pinot Blanc underscored the smooth creamy characters of the dish.

My main course consisted of torn basil and stewed tomato over baked Dover Sole served in a copper pan with crisp rapini, blanched new potatoes and zucchini ratatouille. This is a classic dish served at the zenith of its potential. My companion relished a dry-aged rib eye steak served with peppercorn sauce with peas, carrots and rapini.

On and on with the details: the nuts at the bar are house roasted and piquant; the furnishings, exposed wooden posts and beams add masculinity; glasses are filled without you noticing; and “Chef” walks among the tables, stopping with hands clasped.

“Are you enjoying?”