The seduction of perpetual twilight—and the assurance that everyone who's anyone is here—animate this reconfigured urban warehouse on the southeast sector of Lower Queen Anne. On one side a casual open kitchen, on another an easy 12-stool bar. An enormous mural, like a dozen spliced Rothko paintings, sets the tone of warm sophistication. The brief but close-to-perfect menu borrows gleefully in the best home-cooking tradition but fixes its sights on New American comfort food—hearty dishes carefully prepared with novel twists, discreet Italian overtones, and rich, fragrant vegetable purees for both sauce and soup. The pan-roasted, prosciutto-wrapped chicken is crackle-crusted and wonderfully moist inside. The cocktails are great, the wine list well-balanced, and the desserts to sigh for. Street parking is nigh on impossible.