Photograph by Joaquin Trujillo

When the Bronx-born chef David Waltuck opened his restaurant Chanterelle, in November, 1979, on a dark corner in SoHo, formal paeans to French cooking ruled midtown. Waltuck’s playful, lighter take on classic French cuisine resonated with the artists in the neighborhood, and in 1989 the chef and his wife, Karen—who graciously handled the front of the house, writing out the menus and arranging the flowers—moved the operation to Tribeca, where they perfected their game, with soothing butter-yellow walls, impeccable service, and some of the most elegant and unpretentious food in the city. Chanterelle, perhaps too formal to compete in a struggling economy, closed in 2009; now Waltuck is back with a new restaurant, élan.

By opening in the Flatiron district, Waltuck is announcing both that he’s in the big-boys club—Eleven Madison Park, Craft, ABC Kitchen, and Gramercy Tavern are all within a few blocks—and that he’s playing it safe. That’s O.K., though, since Waltuck’s safe is delicious and decadent. Gone are Chanterelle’s quenelles and crazy salad, made with lobster, papaya, and foie gras, the last of which shows up here in something like an adult Tootsie Pop, coated in pistachios, with a figgy center. Sweetbreads, a staple at Chanterelle, appear in a lively General Tso’s preparation, with a sticky orange-inflected glaze. Uni guacamole, served with taro chips, causes initial suspicion—isn’t anyone who wants to improve guacamole just showboating?—but the uni holds its own, lending a welcome salinity and richness.

Considering Waltuck’s culinary standing, the dining room is small. A whitewashed brick wall nods to the chef’s downtown roots, and to the casual air he seems to be trying for, even if he can’t help but send out perfectly composed plates. The crowd is full of sophisticates, many of whom will reminisce over his signature dish of seafood sausage—lobster, shrimp, sea scallops, and sea bass packed into a pork casing—with mustard-infused beurre blanc. It still sounds slightly off-putting, and still surprises with its salty-sweet delicacy. Technique is where élan really shines, in dishes like the striped-bass filet, with crisp skin and a deep red-wine sauce, and a smoky oolong-tea-infused duck breast, perfectly rare. Waltuck favors unctuousness, and goes overboard in the sea-scallop fettuccine coated in melted duck fat. But zucchini blossoms with lemon crème fraîche are ethereal, and tomato-watermelon gazpacho with lobster tastes like pure summer.

Karen is missed (she has moved into a social-work career), but there are many signs of humility and finesse at élan. The wine list is full of accessible bottles, with a section called “Treat Yourself,” so you don’t have to see the three-hundred-dollar Burgundy and feel like a piker for ordering something under sixty. On your way out, there are lovely chocolate truffles filled with caramel—salted, of course. ♦

Open every night for dinner. Entrées $25-$33.

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