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Seared in an Azure Flame

A brasserie with fine grillades

Though beautiful, blue is not much of a food color. Few foods are blue. Okay, I'll give you blue corn, and even bleu cheese. And bluefish, though it's not blue when eaten--by most humans, anyway. Following this culinary tradition, neither the menu nor décor of The Blue Room is blue. Nestled belowground in a converted fire-hose factory near Kendall Square, the restaurant's brick outer wall is relieved by street-level windows; the opposite wall is burnt orange, studded with artsy black-and-white photos of vegetables and eating implements. The restaurant takes its name from the 1926 Rodgers and Hart song "The Blue Room," whose sheet music hangs on the walls. The idea is to evoke the Jazz Era feel of the kind of bistro where a singer at a fireside piano might once have belted out such a tune. The tables, covered with sheets of zinc that have softened to a pleasing warm patina, continue the effect.

Since it first opened in 1991, The Blue Room has steadily developed a strong reputation as one of the finest restaurants in Cambridge. Its eclectic international menu is rooted in Mediterranean cuisines, with Asian and Latin American accents. The kitchen's wood-fired grill radiates its effects throughout the menu, providing many of the items with their characteristic flavors and textures.

As befits a place inspired by a Jazz Era song, the menu is full of variations and improvisation. Here, even a classic Italian appetizer like bruschetta steers clear of the standard mixture of chopped tomatoes and basil; the Blue Room Bruschetta Combo includes three different toppings on the garlic-toast base: slabs of roasted red pepper with capers, a blend of cod and garlic mashed potatoes, and eggplant with shaved asiago cheese.

It's always a promising sign when background elements in a dish receive the same conscientious attention as the central item. Take the tuna sashimi appetizer: a bed of salad greens, tossed with sesame oil sharpened by soy sauce, forms a piquant setting for the expertly fennel-crusted tuna. The asparagus salad in vinaigrette benefits from the texture and taste contrast of a dollop of fine goat cheese mixed with pistachios. We followed with Vidalia onion soup with a Gruyère crouton, another variation on a classic: the sweetness of these famous onions completely changes the flavor of onion soup, while adding a tawny color and chewy texture.

Speaking of chewy, a bottle of the 1995 Château de Pibarnon Bandol ($38) was a full-bodied delight, complex and aromatic. The wine list ranges adventurously through France, Italy, Spain, Germany, California, New Zealand, Australia, and even South Africa, with bottles priced from $18 to $108. Wines by the glass, at $5 to $8 apiece, should be avoided in favor of a half or full bottle if you're at all thirsty; the $7 glass of Passetoutgrains, Domain Amiot, proved a lightweight in every sense among its fellow Burgundians, and arrived, furthermore, in no glassblower's balloon, but in a smallish piece of stemware. But when the Bandol arrived, some huge, gorgeous goblets came out along with it, and helped evoke its earthy bouquet.

Turning to the main courses and the wood-fired grill, we sampled the bone-in sirloin steak, cooked to perfection and accompanied by truffled mashed potatoes and exquisite haricots verts. The mashed potatoes include garlic and are not for those of overly delicate sensibilities (though the haricots verts, indeed, are). The grilled tuna, alas, was outshone by its excellent accompaniment, roasted potatoes on a bed of asparagus. But an Indian-inspired combination, "Deepak's slow-simmered collards, potato samosas, curried onions, and yogurt," which also included kohlrabi, presented a delightfully balanced medley of textures and subtle flavors, built around samosas, a deep-fried pastry stuffed, in this case, with potatoes. Unlike most samosas, this one was not crispy but had a softer, flakier texture and had absorbed no great amount of oil from the cooking process. Invented by one of the restaurant's line cooks, this dish represents the perfect way to Americanize an Asian staple, the recipe profiting from both cultures.

Notable among the desserts: a passion-fruit sorbet that, for pure deliciousness and intensity of flavor, surpassed any other sorbet in my experience. The crème brûlée was predictably rich and scrumptious, covered with a hard maple-sugar glaze that was, as usual, the best part. The hazelnut biscotti served with it was drier than it needed to be, but had a delicate flavor, appropriate to an accompanist.

Then came the final-final course: the check. The appetizers range from $5 to $12, and the entrées from $17 to $22. Two fairly self-disciplined individuals can dine very well at The Blue Room for $100 or even less, including tip, but those who fancy the pricier grapes will run a tab well into the three digits. Yet in such a comfortable atmosphere, with very friendly and efficient service, and stimulating food and drink, there is solid value for the money--so that even when the bill arrives, there's certainly nothing to feel blue about.

~ C.L.