The Luminary lights the way

Service: striving to be professional, but a little green

Best dishes: fish amandine, gnocchi, pork belly

Vegetarian selections: salads, vegetarian entree (like farro)

Price range: $$-$$$

Credit cards: all major credit cards

Hours: 6-10 p.m. Tuesdays-Thursdays, 6-11 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, Noon-3 p.m. Sundays.

Children: not ideal

Parking: valet

Reservations: yes

Wheelchair access: yes

Smoking: no

Noise level: high volume

Patio: yes

Takeout: yes

Address, phone: 99 Krog St., Atlanta. 404-600-6199

Website: theluminaryatl.com

On a recent trip to Paris, I went armed with an exhaustive schedule of restaurant reservations and an even longer list of recommendations from trusted sources. But, in the end, I elected to keep only a handful of those reservations. Instead, I chose to take the pulse of the city by popping in and out of a great many cafes, bistros and brasseries.

Common threads between those casual eateries emerged in contrast to their American counterparts. First, there’s a drastic reduction in salt usage as compared with our restaurants. Just as pronounced was a seeming absence of pressure for kitchens to deconstruct, reinvent or otherwise go rogue with the classics. Well prepared and satisfying, these dishes weren’t developed to showcase a chef’s wit and creativity.

Back in Atlanta, we can now experience Chef Eli Kirshtein’s take on a brasserie at the Luminary, one of the first restaurants to open in Inman Park’s new Krog Street Market food haven.

Kirshtein, a former contender on “Top Chef: Las Vegas,” calls the restaurant an American brasserie, but I’d call it an Atlanta one. The Luminary blends traditional Parisian brasserie style with contemporary Atlanta restaurant design.

Classic recipes like croque monsieur and steak frites are made with local and regional ingredients. Kirshtein puts his own touch on these dishes, but with restraint. In this fusion the Luminary has found just the right tenor for Atlanta’s dining scene.

Named for Atlanta’s first newspaper, the Luminary finds its place today by paying homage to the past. The structure, a renovated 1920s Stove Works warehouse, retains its high ceilings with exposed pipes. This decidedly Atlanta space takes on traditional French brasserie design elements, including mirrors, gleaming white subway tiles and brass lighting. Glowing bulbs contrast with the brilliant neon-white sign depicting the restaurant name over the marbled raw bar. It reads contemporary brasserie, even if the design doesn’t quite achieve the typical warmth.

The beverage menu also speaks to today, reflecting Atlanta’s recent cocktail revival. Ian Cox’s offerings range from the light and fizzy Memories of Seasons Past with Cathead honeysuckle vodka, creme de framboise and sparkling wine to the deeper and more beguiling Greenpoint, made with Rittenhouse rye whiskey and green chartreuse. You’ll also find a varied wine list and, honoring brasseries’ origins as brewpubs, a mix of international and domestic beers, many on draft.

As with a typical brasserie, the Luminary offers raw bar selections, such as platters of fruits de mer and oysters nestled in icy trays with traditional garnishes. Recent selections included Deep Coves from Prince Edward Island and Grand Pearls from Chesapeake Bay. Both were milder in flavor than expected, prompting us to move on to starters.

We started with the chicken liver mousse and beef tartare, both classic dishes done well. The smooth mound of chicken liver mousse dotted with crushed pistachios drew balance from the accompanying pickled mushrooms. Similarly, the beef tartare, a perfectly round patty of chopped steak, came stuffed with tiny bits of cornichon, tart little buds of contrasting flavor. In true affordable brasserie fashion, you could make a meal of the tartare served with salted fries and scoot out the door for less than $20.

The same is true of the Parisienne gnocchi, an unctuous collection of miniature tater tot-like gnocchi mingled with cheese curds and awash with a velvety foie gras sauce. The rich sauce prompted my friend to ask, “Is it just me, or do you find this incredibly salty?” Why, yes, it is. And how very American. Yet this light and tender gnocchi with its accoutrements, much like a dignified version of poutine, was also one of my very favorites at the Luminary. Salt and all.

Perhaps the best remake here is of the amandine, a typical butter and slivered almond topping, often for fish. Ours was a well-seasoned amberjack (the next week it was swordfish). The almonds became pecans and the heavy butter sauce became vinegary chopped kale and a smooth celery-root puree, to replace the illusion of creamy richness associated with butter.

Traditionalists may prefer to go with the steak frites, slices of hangar steak with a fluffy cloud of melting maitre d’ hotel butter swirling into golden fries. Or try the croque monsieur (or madame), simultaneously crispy and delightfully gooey while smacking of quality ingredients.

The duck leg confit is also well prepared, though, truth be told, the best part of the dish is the stewy lentil-Carolina Gold rice mixture. That, and the watermelon radishes dressed in a tarragon vinaigrette, visually stunning against the ruddy palette of the duck and lentils. A feast for the senses.

In contrast, the chicken paillard was less of a sight to behold. The pale chicken, minimally seasoned, was awkwardly thick in spots and thin in others. Black tapenade scattered in clusters like little droppings only heightened the effect.

Like much brasserie fare, desserts at the Luminary, such as the warm creme brulee and sugared coffee profiteroles, satisfy. But I’d argue that’s not enough. When indulging in dessert, said sweet treat should be a decadent experience, not merely satisfying. Maybe that’s the American in me. One did deliver: a dish of parallel creamy quenelles, one of gushy salted caramel ganache, the other of silky milk chocolate sorbet.

Successfully blending classic and contemporary in its approach, this restaurant stakes a legitimate claim to being one of the luminaries on the Atlanta dining scene.