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Atlanta trendsetter weathers changes, and the view's still spectacular

I IMAGINE FEW PEOPLE in the city made note of the Abbey's closing two weeks ago. The restaurant had been an icon in its time, sitting like a stone marvel for so many years on Ponce de Leon, known to generations as the place to go on a prom date or anniversary.

JOEY IVANSCO/AJC STAFF (ENLARGE)
Canoe's attractions include seafood plates, such as 'tuna tuna tuna' — and a nice view of the Chattahoochee River.
JOEY IVANSCO/AJC STAFF (ENLARGE)
Whole roasted yellowtail snapper is served with chanterelle mushrooms.
JOEY IVANSCO/AJC STAFF (ENLARGE)
Pretty (and pretty tasty) desserts: lemon pound cake with blueberry compote and poppyseed ice cream (above); and banana cheesecake with marcona almond sherbet (below).
JOEY IVANSCO/AJC STAFF (ENLARGE)
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So many restaurants fall out of favor — the chef isn't hip enough, the menu needs dusting off. Newer, trendier spots take their place. Time is the ultimate critic.

Canoe could have been accused once of being just another of the newer, trendier places. It opened in 1995 when Atlanta was in pre-Olympics bloom and we had tired of relic menus that touted biscuits and fried chicken. Nor were we wowed anymore by the tame continental cuisine served at all the "it" restaurants.

Just when we thought we'd never see a quenelle of coriander whipped cream or a squiggle of creme fraiche across our just-thick-enough mushroom soup, along came Canoe, with an all-star menu of players behind it:

• Chef Gerry Klaskala, who designed the menu and kitchen concept and later opened Aria.

• George McKerrow Jr. of Longhorn Steaks and now Ted's Montana Grill.

• Über-designer Bill Johnson.

• And Gary Mennie, who was hand-picked by Klaskala to run the kitchen and is about to open his own restaurant, Taurus, this summer.

Now, Carv el Grant Gould has taken over the kitchen and is paired with a dynamic pastry chef. Gould helped open Canoe's kitchen as a line cook and worked her way to chef de cuisine under Mennie. She has returned from a brief stint as the executive chef at now-defunct Che to take that same title at Canoe.

In her absence, the restaurant hired Robyn Mayo as pastry chef. Together they make a dynamic duo, a female Batman and Robin creating a relaxed menu of modern American cuisine that has focus and flavor. The eclectic tendencies that once haunted the menu are gone. Gould's touch is steady, like that of a stern but loving mother. Mayo's desserts, while a little rough around the edges, are among the best in the city.

So what hasn't changed? The noisy open kitchen. The high-backed booths and their geometric-patterned upholstery, so telltale '90s. The wrought iron vines that separate them. The power conversations overheard in the men's room. The panoramic view of the Chattahoochee River. The drop-your-jaw gorgeous gardens.

Canoe has weathered these well.

What has changed, for the better, is the sometimes erratic nature of the menu. Even before Mennie left, things had calmed down. But Gould's focus seems more seasonal, heavy on high-quality ingredients. There are menu mainstays such as the "tuna tuna tuna" and the slow-roasted rabbit. But there is also plenty of room for Gould to experiment with her nightly specials, which she does with flourish.

They are usually fish, often a barramundi (an Australian fish a little like bass) served whole and roasted in all its glory, or on a more recent evening, tender rounds of halibut cheeks over a creamy corn and fava bean succotash (my word, not hers) with micro cilantro adding a smidgen of tart nuttiness.

Or soft-shell crab, perfectly fried with an ethereally thin crust, surrounded by a light lemon-and-caper beurre blanc.

Even an outdated showing of ostrich (this really is the '90s) rests easily in her hands, the lean meat tender and pink with more lemon sauce and batons of Asian pears for a crunchy twist.

Gould, at her new post since early March, plans to remove some menu items, tweak others and add a few ideas of her own by this week. Most will be seasonally inspired updates.

One that needs to change is a mismatch of caramelized striped bass with a weird coconut-and-kaffir lime rice. The whole thing is cloyingly sweet; the flavor of the fish totally overpowered and the rice a mass of goo. Salmon with tomatoes, capers, olives and lemon is a big yawn.

But a mainstay such as slow-roasted rabbit, as unseasonal as it sounds, is blessedly tender and meaty, with a hearty mushroom ravioli alongside a mound of seasoned Swiss chard with hints of vinegar and garlic. Ditto the pheasant, another dish I long to see appear again on Gould's fall menu. Until then, I'll close my eyes as I sink my mouth into its match of fluffy whipped sweet potatoes with tiny huckleberries and pretend it's almost Thanksgiving.

Regulars needn't worry about changes: the smorgasbord of bread (rosemary lavash, cranberry nut, focaccia, sourdough) brought round and round again by the perennially prompt service staff is still part of the picture. And the raw tuna appetizer that includes thin, shear slices, dices and a mound of tartar is still alive and just as good as it always was, with a pungent sesame dressing that hints of mustard and pumpkin seed oil.

Mayo's desserts get better each time I eat at Canoe. She has the innate ability to pair fruits with each other and with chocolate, and knows when to let chocolate take center stage, as with an ooey-gooey molten center cake (another '90s classic), never better than it is here with a crunchy, butterscotchy tuile and candied walnut ice cream.

All are pretty (some more than others) and they all taste splendid, especially a Meyer lemon pound cake, delicate and buttery, surrounded by a syrupy compote of blueberries and topped with a tiny scoop of house-spun poppyseed ice cream. A pretty little cookie tuile is twisted on top of the ice cream for effect.

Roasted banana cheesecake is a perfect disc of fluffy, mousse-like heaven, part banana, part caramel, with a sweet-and-salty marcona almond sherbet. But now that I'm thinking about it, it's hard to beat the orange-mascarpone ice cream nestled between the poofy layers of shortcake and strawberries in Mayo's strawberry shortcake.

And so it goes. Gould and Mayo are poised to take Canoe into a new decade, where yet another generation of prom-goers and anniversary celebrants can bask in the glow of the gardens.