*** Jack Fry's
1007 Bardstown Road
(502) 452-9244
The original namesake and owner, Jack Fry, started a neighborhood tavern with the repeal of Prohibition in 1933 and ran it as a local institution until the late '70s, whereupon - gentrifying in step with the neighborhood it's in - it went upscale under new management, shedding its stale-beer-and-peanuts ambience in favor of something just as comfy if a bit more dressy.

And suddenly it's been 20 years or more, and the "new" Jack Fry's has earned a place in Louisville's heart.

That's what I call enduring popularity, and Fry's has earned it the old-fashioned way, by consistently offering excellent fare in a comfortable setting. I rarely leave here after a meal without a happy, satisfied smile.

It looks pretty much like what it is: A pleasant, reasonably elegant dining room grafted seamlessly into an older saloon, with the trademark black-and-white tile floor, dark-brown walls (my wife says it's "taupe," and I say dark coffee), under an antique tin ceiling painted the color of cafe au lait. Dozens of pictures of old Louisville scenes and places fill the walls of the two rooms divided by a large, cozy bar, and the tables and trademark black booths are set with simple but fine white cloths, good, unobtrusive place settings, and fresh flowers in bud vases.

The menu, which changes from time to time, invariably offers American-style fare that's creative without tipping over into the weird. Chef Shawn Ward's current version offers six appetizers that range from $5.25 (for country pate) to $10.95 for foie gras. Five salads are $5.25 (for a seasonal salad) to $8.95 (for a fried-calamari salad with corn salsa). Ten entrees run from $14.75 (for a meatless potato-and-wild-mushroom gratin) to $25.95 (for a pan-seared 12-ounce veal chop with a candied lemon-ginger glaze and swiss-chard strudel), but if that's rich for your blood, there's always the Jack's Burger ($7.25), harking back to the bar's old days with sides of fries, caramelized onions, lettuce, pickles and tomatoes.

The two-page, leather-bound wine list, is a good one too, featuring close to 100 wines, predominantly but not entirely from the U.S., consistently marked up a bit less than double retail, making them a bit better buy than you'll find at many of the city's white-tablecloth restaurants.

You'll find a few high-end items ($80 for 1996 Opus One, $135 for Paul Jaboulet Aine 1996 Hermitage La Chappelle and $160 for 1996 Sassicaia). All of these, however, are immature and far from ready to drink, and ordering them in a restaurant would be a foolish waste; they're wines meant for cellaring.

In the more rational range, most of the less expensive wines are available by the glass (starting at $3.50 for Bandiera Coastal Fume Blanc or Mountain View Monterey Chardonnay), and you'll find a good selection of affordable choices such as Ravenswood 1998 California Zinfandel ($19, or $4.75 a glass), Fetzer 1996 Barrel Select Cabernet Sauvignon ($28 and $7) and, a particularly good choice if you're having steak or lamb, Laurel Glen 1997 Counterpoint ($31 and $7.75).

I chose a Pinot Noir from the lower end of the list to match our meal and King Estate's 1996 (from Oregon) filled the bill for $23, offering ripe cherry aromas and flavors and a distinctive smoky quality that likely comes from toasty oak.

Our friendly and competent server kept us stocked with baskets of excellent bread - sweet, textured white that may have had just a bit of cornmeal, and earthy light whole-wheat.

A shared appetizer course was almost rich enough for a light meal: "Foie" gras was actually Hudson Valley duck liver, not goose, but that's a picky point. A small but intense round of liver about the size of a silver dollar was seared black and caramelized on the outside, still pink and tender at the center, as it should be; it was served over a small portion of thin-sliced country ham on a round of "polenta crostini," a Tuscan specialty that's usually a piece of toast or fried polenta used as the base for a canape; here it was more like a soft, silken round of custardy grits, but tasty all the same. It was plated on a thick, dark red-fruit sauce with a couple of fat ripe blackberries and a sprig of fresh thyme for garnish. The flavors went together nicely, and although the portion looks small, it's so rich that it's plenty as a starter for two.

Offering tomato risotto as a salad ($7.95) was a brilliant stroke. I love this - who'd have thought of a risotto as a salad? A dark-red risotto cake, rich and intensely tomato-flavored with a mix of fresh and sun-dried tomatoes and basil, was served warm and strewn with red leaf lettuce, frisee and escarole, doused in a subtle vinaigrette and plated with just off-gold browned butter and a few black Nice-style olives.

A Stilton salad ($5.50) was fine, if more straightforward, sort of like a Caesar with a college education: Crisp, fresh romaine was topped with generous portions of English blue cheese and walnuts.

Potato gratin ($14.75) was the kind of meatless dish in which you don't miss the meat: Made in an individual cup and turned out on the plate, it was a filling mound of thin-sliced potatoes and portabello mushrooms, heavy with a creamy, eggy custard that made it almost too rich for comfort. It was a perfect match with the Pinot Noir, demonstrating that red wine and vegetarian fare CAN match. It was accompanied by an artfully casual stack of grilled vegetables - onions and carrots, asparagus, red and gold bell pepper and a delicious eggplant round - and a tasty garnish of summer salad greens with a nutty sesame-oil vinaigrette.

My choice, the chicken and Stilton linguine, featured a large portion of perfect linguine with strips of sliced, grilled boneless chicken breast, dark and meaty lengths of portabello, crunchy bacon bits, a ration of earthy Stilton and crisp walnuts (a second cousin of the Stilton salad?) and a few arugula leaves. The flavors are mysterious and complex - something nutty, something smoky, something spicy - an elusive flavor of hot peppers was just warm and attention-getting enough to make it interesting (although it unfortunately also somewhat diminished its enjoyment with the wine).

We finished up with a double chocolate creme brulee tart ($5.50), a pie-wedge slice filled with a dense bittersweet and milk-chocolate mousse on an almond and brown-sugar crust, attractively plated with chocolate and caramel sauces (and a flower) and an artful decoration of hardened burnt-sugar that evokes the topping on a creme brulee. It sounded delicious but its flavors were muted, making it one of the few disappointments in an otherwise near-perfect meal.

Two espressos ($2) restored our spirits and braced us for a $93.70 check, making the toll for two, with tip, $110 for a memorable meal. $$$