IT SEEMS EERILY synchronistic that MidCity Cuisine announced its closing a week prior to the AJC's review of Shaun Doty's new restaurant in Inman Park.

Some handle transition better than others.

Bita Honarvar/AJC Staff (ENLARGE)
It's dishes like the hanger steak with capers and pine nuts, and a setting that includes a family-style farmer's table, that make Shaun's in Inman Park simple and intimate.
Bita Honarvar/AJC Staff (ENLARGE)
Bita Honarvar/AJC Staff (ENLARGE)
Lemon poundcake with poppyseed ice cream.
Bita Honarvar/AJC Staff (ENLARGE)
Crispy Sardinian flatbread with arugula and Parmigiano Reggiano.
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Doty, the former chef and part-owner of MidCity whose straightforward approach to bistro cuisine had Atlantans' tongues and taste buds wagging after it opened more than three years ago, is a master at it.

In his Atlanta career, he's managed to move from hot-vibe hoedowns like Mumbo Jumbo to the tony spot of executive chef at the High's Table 1280. The latter was a big move to the big-time, but helming that restaurant proved too impersonal for Doty, too detached. Managing his menu by committee wasn't the way this puckish chef likes to handle things.

So he took some time — leaving the restaurant last summer — and came up with Shaun's, a bistro with a modest menu that opened on Nov. 11 in the spot that once was classic Deacon Burton's.

Let's examine that for a moment, and ponder the incongruities: First, Doty has always excelled in high-volume, high-concept restaurants. His new restaurant has only 80 seats, several of which are part of an antique farmer's table in the center of the main dining room. Not only is the table gorgeous; it's pure genius to sit people who don't know one another near each other family style.

One night we shared part of our butternut squash ravioli — wholesome pillows of fresh pasta with a nip of sage and pignoli foam filled with sweet squash — with the foursome seated next to us pondering whether to order it or not. We helped them make up their minds.

Later, I shared a sip of wine and a bite of white shrimp and grits, plump and perfect, laid out in a deep glass bowl with a strip of Berkshire bacon and a tiny poached egg, though all badly in need of salt (even the bacon).

Still, I saw three groups turn down the charming hostess' offer to sit there before this convivial team sat next to my party of three. What a shame that Atlantans seem scared half to death to eat with each other.

Second, his menu is true bistro, a term that gets thrown around as easily in Atlanta as peroxide and Palm Pilots, though very few of those using it actually know what it means.

It means small. It means down-to-earth. It means affordable. It's usually chef-driven, and the chef is usually the owner. Admittedly, Shaun's is far more high-end than an average neighborhood bistro. The restaurant's posh yet understated style brings to mind world-class favorites like Chanterelle in New York and No. 9 Park in Boston.

Much of that is due to the timely space, refurbished by the Johnson Studio, and so gorgeous I want to move in. Literally.

Fussing between bottles of Ardosino Tinta Roriz and Domaine Leon Barral's Faugères, I found myself secretly musing about where I would put all my furniture: Hmmm ... In front of the colossal framed glass windows with white sills would be my couch with a few rugs to warm the original quarry tile ... the small open kitchen in the center of the room stays as is. My bed? The back room, of course, near the cozy patio. The muted tones of avocado on the walls? Why change what works? And the bar? Who the heck doesn't want a full bar in their living room? And the farm table? Oh, that stays, my friend, that stays.

I had to be snapped out of my reverie by the waiter, who was kind enough to get me a taste of the Broadley Pinot Noir, which I finally ordered.

There is no other restaurant of this caliber in Atlanta. We are a city glutted with glitz and glamour (and $7 million price tags) and very little pith. Kudos to Doty for having the chutzpah to do something this obvious, and yet for this city, this different.

Third (remember those points I was making?), the restaurant is in Inman Park, just across the street from the MARTA station. Not exactly Buckhead, baby.

And yet by 8:30, the small dining room is bustling with patrons. The ample staff seems happy to be there. I'm nibbling Sardinian flatbread that sets off another daydream, one of hot black pepper and hordes of fresh, nutty arugula, shards of Parmigiana Reggiano and a crackly, cracker-y snap of freshness.

If there are problems, they lie mostly in a dish's execution, not its conception. A side of black kale lacks any personality; the risotto would be so much better in one of those deep glass bowls (like the shrimp and grits) instead of spread on a big white plate. Roasted chicken can be too dry, and the cheese plate rarely offers enough contrast or variety.

But chicken liver fettuccine is everything a bistro dish should be: comforting, simple, excellently prepared. And Doty's tenderloin is velvety smooth with lots of juice and just enough char to make it honest, resting nicely next to a pile of yummy rosti potatoes. A slice of banana cream tart with generous shavings of coconut has the perfect pastry crust and a creamy custard. The wine list is an eclectic beauty, though a bit overpriced.

Atlanta needs a restaurant like Shaun's the way Bedford Falls needed the Savings & Loan. We need its simple, understated beauty if for no other reason than to have a fine place to eat that doesn't involve neon and sushi.

Oh, and the limoncello. I'll have mine in the living room.