Ariadne is Mediterranean in the sense of being mostly Italian and a little Greek. The name Ariadne is from Greek mythology: Ariadne helped Theseus escape from the Minotaur’s labyrinth, but was deserted by him, thence to take up happily with the god of wine. (This chef’s original restaurant is Aspasia, who was the real-world wife and widow of Pericles; the only connection is happy second marriages. Maybe he just wants to be near the beginning of the alphabetical listings, or maybe Aspasia and Ariadne are the names of his goldfish.) Bacchus is well-respected here, but the food is also quite good (if not ambrosial, but that "a" name was, until recently, already taken anyway). The atmosphere is quieter than at most small restaurants these days, and thus probably romantic enough for Cupid. I’m not saying this restaurant is Dionysian, but it is quite successful in every course.

Things begin well with crusty slices of bread and whipped butter. We asked for olive oil and got a pour of truly superb extra-virgin olive oil, presumably borrowed from the kitchen, a good sign. On our night, Ariadne’s weeknight four-course prix fixe meal ($32) featured quite a lot of tomatoes. The opening "amuse" of heirloom tomatoes, shaved-ricotta salata, and watercress seemed hard to beat, as the tomatoes included a slice of brandywine, cherries in various colors, and a slice of a sweet yellow tomato, topped with excellent dressing. But the appetizer course of yellow-tomato soup with a garnish of chopped rock shrimp was outstanding, as was the tomato risotto — think glorified Spanish rice — with the arctic-char main course. This particular piece of fish was almost as rich and pink as hatchery salmon, so it was satisfying and meaty.

Among the regular appetizers, I was very impressed with the duck confit ($9). Although "confit" used to imply a cured meat with some spice preserved in oil, it’s now milder in flavor but presented here with the delightful crispy skin and moist flesh of a duck leg and thigh, with a contrasting salad that brilliantly mates slices of black plum, almond, shaved radish, and cress. Tuna tartare worked into a cylinder ($12) is also a common item, but here artfully layered with a yellow mango salsa and Maine shrimp to make something different and subtly Mexican.

Ariadne makes a pretty good small entrée out of the appetizer of grilled squid ($9). Not only is there lots of calamari — with a taste of char yet not too chewy — but the garnishes of bean paste, greens, and green olives are quite filling. Even the only weak appetizer — a soft-shell crab ($13) that offered only the crustacean’s rather thin basic flavor without enough help from breading or sauce — wasn’t bad eating.

The house specialty is a rack of lamb ($27), and it is wonderful. The rack is true baby lamb, about five chops in two thicker sections, medium rare unless you specify otherwise. Lamb so small is mild-flavored, so the chef adds a small piece of braised shank among the tastier cuts. A cooling cucumber salad provides contrast.

To give Bacchus his due, the wine list is extensive, with more than a dozen half bottles. By the glass, we had an outstanding California chardonnay, the 2000 Pine Ridge ($13), with a wonderful steely flavor balancing large doses of fruit and vanilla oak. The 2000 Barnett merlot ($12) is another California fruit bomb, but with very good structure, almost like a Meritage blend.

Coffee fans will be delighted that French-press coffee and decaf are only $3. The decaf alone makes the argument for the extra freshness of individually brewed coffee.

Desserts are not unusual, but again consistently excellent. Rustic summer-fruit crostata ($11) has the plums and berries one might expect, but truly superior light pastry in the freeform pie. A "flight" of sorbets ($9) on our night had a fine raspberry, a remarkable peach, and a subtle coconut sorbet for the ages. Dark-chocolate cake ($10) is a couple of slices casually arranged on top of a splendid parfait with mint-chocolate chips, and topped with some crème fraîche that looks like whipped cream and adds a bit of sour creaminess.

Service on a quiet weeknight had a personal element I haven’t seen in some years. Generally, servers are much better informed than they used to be — everyone is more interested in cuisine, if sometimes less professional about service. What stood out at Ariadne was that our waiter was conversational, accurate in his recommendations, and eager to produce extra effects like the olive oil and some brewed iced tea that wasn’t on the menu, but was available from lunch.

The rooms are much refined from the previous restaurants in this space, with a lavish use of carpeting and fabric that holds down the noise to prewar levels. (We’re using the first Gulf War as a reference point for the trend of loud cafés that deafened the 1990s and still roars on.) The lighting is quite peach-colored, probably designed to flatter customers of a certain age; it’s also flatters the food, but makes it hard for aging eyes to read the menus. This is not an important flaw when everything on the menu is so good, and one’s waiter describes food well.

Robert Nadeau discusses and signs his new book, The American History Cookbook, at the Brookline Booksmith, in Brookline, on September 25, at 7 p.m., and at Jamaicaway Books, in Jamaica Plain, on October 19, at 3 p.m. He can be reached at RobtNadeau@aol.com