Pat Riley more or less disappeared after his departure three years ago from Perigee, and it seemed as if the chef, like the meticulous, globe-trotting cooking he produced, might soon fade from memory. Then this spring, he quietly signed on as chef in the open kitchen at this charming but historically mediocre restaurant in the Beach—and though he’s cooking solo weeknights, and the atmosphere is decidedly more relaxed than at Perigee (one chowhounder complained that a track suit–wearing patron one night looked like a male Sue Sylvester), the dishes are vintage Riley. The chef has split the menu into “the familiar” and “the road less travelled”: the first offers such Beach-friendly plates as grilled rib-eye steak and roasted chicken (albeit roasted chicken that’s deboned and stuffed), while the other features poached periwinkles, roasted sweetbreads and hot smoked arctic char. But with Riley at the stove, the most interesting parts of a dish are rarely the main event; it’s the little, intricate, surprising accompaniments that almost always steal the show. Baked pickerel (somewhat oversalted), meantime, barely deserves a mention compared with the rest of the plate: fresh, sweet favas and peas, a beguiling bacon and watercress sauce (ridiculous on paper, brilliant on the plate), good manilla clams, and a handful of small ethereal eggplant fritters. Textures and broad-band flavour plays—both Riley specialties—are on full display: crunchy flatbread to counter-punch exemplary fiddleheads, white asparagus and poached periwinkles; beet carpaccio and crispy pickled radish contrast honey-sweet hot smoked arctic char. Not every dish is as exciting: sautéed shrimp don’t do much, in spite of their summery lemon-basil rice. But misses are rare. Desserts, such as lemon pudding cake in blackcurrant sauce with thyme meringue shard and crumbled amaretti, are uniformly interesting. Short, satisfying wine list, plus an esoteric beer list. Mains $19–$34.