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Becky Stein/SPECIAL (ENLARGE)
Braised pork with heirloom apple jus at the Hil restaurant
Becky Stein/SPECIAL (ENLARGE)
The Serenbe Supreme pizza at the Hil
Becky Stein/SPECIAL (ENLARGE)
The Hil restaurant in the Serenbe community
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Whether a Shangri-La is nestled in the valley of the Kunlun Mountains may be debatable, but Georgians need only drive to Palmetto to experience their own version of the mythical utopia. And they won't have any difficulty finding a place to eat there.

Serenbe, the quiet, sustainable farm community just south of Atlanta, opened the Hil, a new restaurant and the community's third, this past August. Created by former Peasant restaurant giant Steve Nygren, the community, which began in 1996 when Nygren and his wife, Marie, opened a bed and breakfast on their 900 acre-farm, is now 40,000 acres strong. Two other restaurants, the Blue-Eyed Daisy Bakeshop and the Farmhouse at Serenbe (as well as a grocery and food school and an art gallery) are all part of the growing family that is Serenbe, which has a squeaky clean rep with eco-friendly foodies who admire the community's use of vegetables from their own farm, Serenbe Organic Farms.

And in truth, to truly experience the Hil — or anything else at Serenbe — it's best to take it as a whole, rather than piecemeal. The Hil is a lovely place to eat, owned by husband-and-wife team Jim and chef Hilary White, who paved a pretty path for herself in the Buckhead Life restaurant group as executive chef for 103 West. Much of the menu relies on the farm, and the rustically upscale surroundings and decor, by designer Stan Topol, are so inviting that you may want to move in. The dichotomy is that once there, the Hil is a perfect place to stop in and have a bite, and airlifted to a less remote location, it would dovetail nicely into any growing city's restaurant community.

On its own at Serenbe, it's worth the trip if you take in the rest that Serenbe has to offer — the B & B, walking trails, farm (there's even a swimming pool and in-ground trampoline for use in warmer weather) — and include dinner as part of the package.

On my first trip it was still warm enough to walk from our room at the Inn to the Hil, passing by the horse farm and through the developing community. Once inside, a fireplace was roaring in the foyer, and a few people were hanging out at the adjacent bar. The main dining room is accented with an authentic stamped tin ceiling and a huge waterwheel found at a local antique store, but the main attraction is the large table in the center of the room, where fresh flowers and pretty, homespun goodies like apple and cranberry tart and chocolate drop cookies are presented from pastry chef Elaine Yeager.

The service staff (headed up by Hilary's mom, Sandy Pitsch) will make you feel very welcome, though most of the servers don't know the difference between braising and bibb lettuce. It's not the kind of place where that sort of thing really matters: laid back and quiet, the Hil exudes the pastoral charms of the rest of the community, and eating here has a relaxing, almost tranquil effect — like a deep-tissue massage. The restaurant's menu and personality is somewhat innocuous; like that massage, you don't really care who's giving it to you as long as you keep getting it.

It was warm enough to partake in the last of the season's crowder peas, fresh and plump from the farm, seasoned heavily with thyme, bay leaf and cracked black pepper. They were part of a swordfish entree, but I asked for them separately and the staff was happy to comply. Served in a simple white bowl, they were a reminder of why vegetables have always meant so much to Southerners — they made up the bulk of my meal, scrumptious to the very last pea.

White is mindful of keeping things simple, though at times this seems like necessity rather than invention — antipasti of a robust caponata, olives and cured meats of coppa ham, saucisson sausage and a simple, slightly spicy salami seem lonely served with a mild, firm tomme cheese from Sweet Grass Dairy. Yet on second thought, the meagerness of the offering fits the Hil's plain, uncomplicated profile. A caramelized vidalia onion dip has a savory boldness with a slight hint of sweetness from the onions but is too soupy to really enjoy with potato chips.

Pizzas seem to show up on everyone's menu these days,and the Hil is no exception. There's really no place for them here, but I find it difficult to pass on anything made with dough and topped with cheese. Scattered with sliced olives, fennel sausage and onions, they're offered in a smallish size and make a great noshy appetizer. So who's complaining?

White's charms work best with meats — a steak with fries is manly and satisfying, and braised Berkshire pork shoulder has the luminous qualities that meat, braised well, always possesses: almost candied around the edges with caramelization, the center meat pulls apart with practically no effort, making it part roast, part barbecue sans sauce, delicately seasoned with sherry vinegar, thyme and bay leaf. Served with cabbage and an apple jus reduction, it's a fine, hardy meal for cool fall weather. The treatment of Maine scallops, seared with smoked sausage over butternut squash and braising greens, pales in comparison — though the fresh farm flavor of the vegetables give them center-of-the-plate status.

If the treats on the center table don't entice too much (and the cranberry apple tart sports one mean, flaky pâte sucrée for a crust), it's fun to finish the meal with a parfait — a big, messy bundle of ice cream, whipped cream and a surprise payload of chocolate chip cookie dough at the bottom that's sure to bring out the latent five-year-old in all of us.

Latent is perhaps the best way to describe the Hil — underneath a mantle of simple pleasures lies a kitchen with tons of possibility. Coupled with a starry night at Serenbe, the pairing is hard to resist.

Food: Modern American

Service: What they lack in cunning, they make up for in caring: Dining room manager Sandy Pitsch is constantly on hand to make sure you're happy

Address, telephone: 9110 Selborne Lane, Suite 110, 770-463-6040

Price range: $$ - $$$

Credit cards: Visa, Mastercard, American Express, Discover, Diners Club

Hours of operation: Open for dinner Sunday through Wednesday from 5 to 9 p.m.; Saturday & Sunday brunch from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.

Best dishes: Antipasti selection, olive, onion and fennel sausage pizza, braised Berkshire pork shoulder, fresh vegetables

Vegetarian selections: Tagliatelle with braising greens and mushrooms, margherita pizza, okra stew, farm-raised braising greens

Children: Early evening

Parking: On street

Reservations: Yes

Wheelchair access: Yes

Smoking: Patio only

Noise level: Low to medium

Patio: Yes, overlooking lovely Selborne Lane

Takeout: Yes

Website: www.the-hil.com

KEY TO RATINGS
Outstanding: Sets the standard for fine dining in the region.
Excellent: One of the best in the Atlanta area.
Very good: Merits a drive if you're looking for this kind of dining.
Good: A worthy addition to its neighborhood, but food may be hit or miss.
Fair: The food is more miss than hit.
Restaurants that do not meet these criteria may be rated Poor.

Pricing code: $$$$$ means more than $75; $$$$ means $75 and less; $$$ means $50 and less; $$ means $25 and less; $ means $15 and less. (The price code represents a meal for one that includes appetizer, entree and dessert without including tax, tip and cocktails.)