Cedar Plank Salmon: grilled on a cedar plank with maple glaze, cauliflower sauteed in hazelnut oil and chive whipped potatoes. Stuffed poblano: with shrimp and corn grits and smoked pepper coulis. Macadamia nut crusted pate: with red wine soaked goat cheese, smoked gouda, port wine jelly and pears.

(photo: Rose Mattrey)

Mode Urban Bistro. It sounded a little classy for me, like maybe it might be too posh for my unglamorous self in my grubby raincoat on this dirty night. I approached it with a bit of trepidation—it’s a beautiful building, with giant plate-glass windows looking out on the intersection of Elmwood and Utica. Looking in the windows, I saw serene rows of impeccably arranged tables, white tablecloths gleaming, symmetrically arranged water goblets and silverware glimmering in the light of tiny white oil lanterns. A few late-night diners were half-visible in the shadows, clad in dark, trendy garments, picking over the remnants of exquisite-looking delicacies and swirling some dark, divine vintage in the bottoms of wine glasses.

As I pushed through the heavy antique wooden door, the bar stretched out before me in shining perfection, beautifully lit. And just at that moment, as the door swung shut behind me, the bartender and the waiter both leapt up and shouted “Yeah!” and the kitchen staff came running out in their perfect white coats and hugged one another and jumped up and down. Because, over the back of the bar, on the television, the Sabres had just scored a goal.

After all, I was still in Buffalo.

After getting an update on the score and the period, we were escorted into the quiet dining room and seated at a comfy little table where we could examine the wine list and the menu. The waiter led us through the list of that night’s specials with an excellent mix of professional knowledgeability and layman’s explanation, so that we were neither bewildered nor patronized. I had been engrossed in the wine list, and hadn’t really looked at the menu; as he recited the specials, it crossed my mind that my earlier suspicion had been correct and this must be a very expensive place indeed. But when I picked up the menu, I was astonished to realize that, in fact, it was not.

The menu is tremendously wide in range, from comforting classics like mushroom ravioli ($14) to the spicy Vietnamese soup known as pho ($13 for vegetarian, $17 for seafood); they have $10 pizzas, a $17 seared duck breast, and there are a whole host of appetizers from the $8.25 grilled goat cheese to the $10 mussels Provencal. The specials menu holds a fresh host of delights, from a $7 panzanella salad appetizer (salad made with bread rather than lettuce, in the Tuscan style) to a $22 grilled rack of lamb (with roasted shallot fig and gorgonzola couscous, oh my). One could lightly graze here, get a few plates to share with friends (like the table of eight women beside us, having a great time sharing wine and hilarity and passing their plates around), or one could feast like a king.

“We want this to be more of a place where people can come once a week than once a month,” Marty, one of the owners, confirmed when I interviewed him. “We don’t want to break the bank.”

We decided on the duck liver pate appetizer ($9)—a fixture on the specials menu, served with a rotating selection of cheeses with toasted flatbreads. Tonight’s cheeses were a lovely, subtle goat gouda and a sweet, tangy cranberry-cheddar. We also tried one of the regular specials, a stuffed poblano pepper ($9) with shrimp and corn grits and smoked red pepper coulis. This proved a good choice: It was comfortingly mushy, but not undifferentiated, with different textures and flavors presenting themselves in different mouthfuls, and a delectably crispy outer layer. Both, incidentally, paired very well with my wine selection, which was a dark, oaky, McMurray pinot noir ($8) with a lovely warmth and hint of fruitiness.

We followed the appetizers with the gourmet salad ($6), a simple but well-concocted mixture of figs, walnuts, feta cheese, mandarin oranges and balsamic vinaigrette over a blend of delicate leaf lettuces. When they heard we were splitting the salad, the kitchen staff was kind enough to present it on two small plates, beautifully arranged. The salads here are substantial creations, delicate but hearty, and they offer more of them on the lunch menu-—ranging from a $5.50 simple green salad (with sundried tomato croutons) to the $9.50 salmon Caesar.

My guest chose the cedar plank salmon ($17) for his entree. It was served plated on the plank, together with grilled cauliflower and chive mashed potatoes. The cedar combined with a maple glaze to infuse the salmon with a delicate, woody sweetness. I particularly liked the potatoes’ hearty texture and savory flavor, in contrast.

I chose one of that night’s specials, the risotto paella ($23). It was a mixed-up version of the Spanish classic seafood-over-rice dish: Instead of rice, risotto, and the seafood mixture over the top included not only clams, mussels, scallops and shrimp, but also chicken and a wonderfully spicy/savory Andouille sausage, all drenched in a richly flavored broth.

We didn’t have room for dessert, but we we wanted to linger a bit. We ordered coffee and debated splitting something light. We decided on the vanilla creme brulee just to pick at. Of course we devoured it—the custard was meltingly light and subtly flavored, the caramelized top crisp and perfect, and we chased one another’s spoons around the bottom of the dish.

All told it was a wonderful evening—posh enough to be special, down-to-earth enough not to be intimidating. I would have a romantic dinner here, or meet friends. It is a lovely space with a mellow but refined atmosphere, and the food, both exquisite and comforting, won’t let you down.

And the waiter can always tell you what the score is in the game.