Roots

Roots is no ordinary restaurant.

Situated in an atmospheric Tudor cottage, it's a place of odd angles and cozy crannies. So what if your candle doesn't quite illuminate your menu? The eyes gradually adjust to reveal a well-priced eclectic wine list and dishes both quirky and enticing.

It all springs from the imagination of chef-owner David Santoro, who grew up in Sea Cliff, got an art degree and then went off to Aspen, Colo., to cook. Having returned to his roots, Santoro spent two years creating this hideaway where tree skins hang from the ceiling and furnishings are hand-wrought of recycled wood.

The same care and deliberateness inform Santoro's cooking, a highly individualistic Italian-influenced repertoire he calls "rustic American."

Dinner begins with a combination of ricotta and olive oil sprinkled with salt, pepper and paprika, to be spread onto little toasts. So good. Better yet is the dark ciabatta (from Tom Cat, an artisanal bakery in Queens) I got on my second visit with olive oil and butter.

It was worth the long wait for Santoro's fish cakes, chunks of snapper and catfish ("pesce," the menu reads) bound with mayonnaise and spice, dusted with crumbs, fried to a crunch and topped with a tangy red onion remoulade. Pan-seared scallops were glazed with a sweet red chili sauce that complemented them well. Santoro's Italian-American eggplant rollatini wore a simple -- and super -- marinara sauce. Using that dark ciabatta, Santoro made a spiedini (batter-fried Italian cheese sandwich) I found irresistible. Less impressive was an antipasto assortment that seemed crammed together on a too-small plate.

One dish I want to eat almost nightly is Santoro's delectable bacon-wrapped meat loaf. And the "pesce" of the day (snapper) was neatly pan-seared and topped with an apricot plum sauce. Fruit and fish? It worked. So did the panko-crusted Louisiana catfish with a lively tomato-olive-caper sauce, paired with a creamy polenta that pleased even a confirmed polenta-phobe. Polenta also accompanied the home-style 12-hour pork shoulder (or "shoulda," as the menu lists it) stewed to soft shreds with a pan drippings-port wine reduction.

House-made fettuccine with Bolognese sauce and a wedge of pecorino, while satisfying, lacked Santoro's characteristic "wow" factor. And fresh pasta carbonara, which the menu described as made with bacon, egg and grated pecorino (the authentic Roman way) turned out to also be floating in a thin cream sauce, Long Island-style. What won me over, though, was mac and cheese in a bread-crumb-topped sauce of Cheddar,Monterey and, yes, Velveeta.

Dessert highlights included a lush, creamy chocolate mousse crowned with freshly whipped cream and a luxurious bread pudding drizzled with caramel sauce.

Santoro's proud parents, Karen and Richard, work, respectively, as manager-bartender and maitre d'. The restaurant only accepts reservations for parties of six or more. It might be easier to show up on a weeknight. As long as you eventually get there.

Reviewed by Joan Reminick, 2/16/07.