New Paradise Cafe

Robert Durkin's New Paradise Cafe sparks the season. Durkin, formerly of Karen Lee's in Bridgehampton and currently at Robert's in Water Mill, took over the once simply Paradise Cafe in late fall. He definitely has made it new.

The cafe seats about 50, in the back of The Paradise bookstore, a venerable building that fronts on Main Street. You pass through best-sellers and remainders-in-waiting, en route to dining that's anything but by-the-book.

Just beyond the stacks, there's a copper bar, popular on its own, with tables-for-two situated opposite. On a busy night, you'll have to be as slim as "Of Mice and Men" to fit in; other evenings, maybe "East of Eden."

New Paradise's main space is long and narrow, allowing selected views of the bar's TV and more room between diners. Gray-blue wainscoting and whipped cream walls give it that vintage American look.

Durkin takes the American theme as a starting point, and moves into Euro and Asian riffs. The result is very good, often excellent, spiked with tasty surprises and an updated, international bistro style. You won't be bored.

Vegetarian spring rolls, cut on a deep bias, rise like a compact skyline, pointing eastward and ready for a dip in snappy ponzu sauce. Durkin veers Italian with deftly-seasoned, multi-cheese ravioli finished classically with brown butter and sage. Continue in that direction with a rustic, very satisfying white bean-and-escarole soup.

In-the-shell, hot-pepper shrimp will make you recall the cayenne detonation at Karen Lee's. But escargots, though Pernod-braised and amply parsleyed, rest uneasily on pale, slightly acidic artichoke hearts. Grilled asparagus spears are zealously grilled, and sometimes closer to charred, but boosted a bit by accents of lemon and Parmesan.

The "springtime risotto" arrives lightly and effortlessly al dente, full of fresh peas, asparagus, and delectable, aromatic morels -- a dish that could make you want to postpone summer.

Spinach risotto is the first level of a three-tier production, with grilled portobello mushrooms, a shot of truffle oil underpinning with a husky cut of grilled wild salmon. It's a course that allows you to remember why you used to order salmon, before farm-raising slipped flavor a sedative.

The finfish competition comes courtesy of a snowy, whole black bass in black bean sauce that's better than any at your local Chinese restaurant. The halibut riding a potato pancake, with fried leeks and wilted spinach, makes the decision even harder.

Crabcakes, an inch-plus thick, emphasize the shellfish, and are paired with a juiced-up tartar sauce, cabbage salad and waffle-cut potatoes. They're first-class.

Moist, herb-crusted chicken shows up with addictive shoestring fries, and a sheen of mustard-herb butter. The "Tuscan-style" pot roast, with a touch of tomato and rosemary-mashed potatoes, tenderly rebels against the Yankee.

Desserts delight. The strawberry shortcake, cantilevered and crumbly, fast-forwards to peak-time ripeness, under cloudlets of cream. The butterscotch pot-de-creme, a pristine essay in richness, almost makes you forget the chocolate precedent. The dense brownie sundae would lead to a request for seconds if it didn't itself preclude the possibility.

The apple tart is sweet, but singed on the edges. Everyone should taste the sorbets and gelati. The most vivid: blood orange and chocolate.

Browsing around Hamptons' restaurants is a summer sport. Relaxed and comfortable even at its most frenzied, the Cafe invites you to be a regular all year. It's very easy to do.