Celebrity chef in the house

Service: friendly and attentive

Best dishes: buttermilk poussin, crispy okra, bread pudding

Vegetarian selections: lots of interesting appetizers

Price range: $$$

Credit cards: all major

Hours: lunch, 11 a.m.-3 p.m. Mondays-Fridays; dinner, 5:30-10 p.m. Mondays-Thursdays, 5:30-11 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays; brunch, 11 a.m.-8 p.m. Sundays.

Children: fine for older kids

Parking: valet in the evenings, validated parking at the Hilton Garden Inn at lunch

Reservations: yes

Wheelchair access: full

Smoking: no

Noise level: moderate

Patio: yes

Takeout: yes

Address, telephone: 250 Park Ave. West, Atlanta. 404-893-0022

Website: asanteatl.com

After nearly 18 years of commenting on the Atlanta restaurant scene, I still never feel comfortable making this observation, but here goes:

Whenever I get to know a new restaurant and discover it has a diverse clientele, the feeling warms my heart. By “diverse” (and with respect to other races) I mean black and white, in equal measure. And by “restaurant” I don’t mean either a casual lunch cafe or a much loved chain. I mean a locally owned and operated business that promises a dining experience like none other and contributes to cultural excellence in our city.

So, it was with pride that I invited out-of-town friends to a meal at Asante restaurant and lounge downtown and listened as (white) general manager David Espin eloquently explained (black) chef Marvin Woods’ impeccable vision of “coastal soul cuisine.”

Woods — known for his cookbooks and four years as host of the Turner South program “Home Plate” — incorporates West African, Caribbean, South American and American Southern foods on his eclectic menu. Yet he finds a commonality of ingredients and preparations that tells not only a story of race, but of cuisine and the reason it binds us together. A look around the room on a weekend night shows a crowd not only of mixed races but also of Atlantans and tourists.

There is much to cheer about Asante, which translates from Swahili as “thankfulness.” The handsome and charismatic Woods, clad in his signature bandana, generally can be espied in the kitchen or greeting guests tableside, proving that some celebrity chefs do indeed commit themselves to the hard work of running their restaurants.

The two-story loft space, formerly Peasant Bistro, sparkles with colorful art and easy light. The wine list, designed by Woods’ friend, winemaker and sommelier Andre Mack, is a sophisticated beauty filled with both spendy bottles and obscure finds.

As an added bonus, Woods cooks with plenty of seasoning but little fat. He has a vested interest in exploding myths about the intrinsic unhealthfulness of soul food. I find everything on his menu intriguing and some of it downright exciting.

Yet, more than a few dishes need tweaking to go from “wow, that’s interesting” to “wow, that’s delicious.” I hope it happens.

Still, what fun to begin with his crispy okra, which gets its toothsome texture not from the deep fryer but the dehydrator. Each pretty green curl arrives with a liberal coating of spice and goes “keeeeee-runch” in your mouth. Or you might try thick, warm wedges of ducana, a Caribbean sweet potato dumpling, lavished with a pungent diced salt cod relish and capped with curls of crisp sweet potato chips. This is not a dish I want to greedily bogart — a bite or two suffices — but what fun to pass it around the table.

I have twice ordered and marveled at the flavor of heirloom tomatoes sliced and spread, caprese style, with dollops of cashew “cheese” instead of mozzarella. This smooth paste of fresh nuts, nutritional yeast and whatnot enriches and complements the flavor of fresh tomato. A bit of malagueta pepper sauce drizzled on the plate adds a welcome piquancy. But the mealy, out-of-season tomatoes the kitchen uses almost break the deal. I wish Woods would save this smart idea for the height of local tomato season.

Execution sometimes comes up a little short, I fear. A gorgeous rack of lamb arrives with its denuded bones intertwined on the plate, begging you to untangle them and slice into the noisettes of tender meat. It’s a pitch-perfect medium rare, as fine as any you will ever eat. Perhaps its “mahogany glaze” seems a ringer for hoisin sauce, thick and a bit too sweet, but it doesn’t offend. But a pasty, cold root vegetable mash and desiccated hunks of roasted beet and carrot seem bizarrely inedible. What a shame for such a beautiful rack of lamb to get undone by its vegetable garnish.

A kale salad prepared with a warm Nueske bacon dressing would have been much better had the kitchen chosen to destem the kale and rip it into manageable pieces. Its cornbread croutons are too big and too hard to eat with any utensil other than your fingers. A little editing, however, could make this a great dish.

But then there’s a buttermilk-soaked poussin (young chicken) that Woods butterflies, fries in a lacy batter and serves with macaroni and cheese and garlicky green beans. Perhaps it’s not the healthiest thing on this diet-conscious menu, but we’re not complaining.

And I love a witty dessert that pairs a slab of warm fig bread pudding with ripe plantains under a caramel sauce that bridges the flavors.

If you’re exploring the wine list, you might want to try one of Mack’s Oregonian wines from his Mouton Noir label. Mack, the former sommelier at the French Laundry, is one of the nation’s few African-American winemakers. His Oregogne is an earthy, Burgundy-style pinot noir. Simpler, but also delicious at a lower price, is the pinot noir he mixes using grapes from a variety of growers. He calls it “O.P.P” for “other people’s pinot.” If you don’t get the joke, may I recommend my friend, Mr. Google?

I do want Woods and company to rethink their approach to lunch, which could be such a delight in this vibrant, light-filled downtown space. There are no entrees, just salads and sandwiches served on your choice of a roll or a cumbersome po’boy loaf.

The “chicharrones de pollo” on one sandwich sound exotic but turn out to be chicken nuggets from another mother. The Puerto Rican pernil brings grayish, fatty, unseasoned slices of pork shoulder. None of it seems festive or substantial enough for a business lunch or a meal with visitors en route to the Georgia Aquarium or World of Coke just outside the restaurant’s front door.

With a little work, Asante could be a destination in its own right.