How a room of such quiet minimalism can feel so warm and embracing is among the dining scene’s enduring mysteries. But that’s Komi’s magic, no tricks required. The seeming effortlessness of the pacing is a credit to one of the region’s best staffs, a group of earnest folks expert in reading tables and moods, who don’t merely keep the water glasses filled but—corny as it sounds—endeavor to make memories. Johnny Monis’s cooking—nominally Mediterranean but drawing on a range of global influences—never fails to surprise, and not just because the absence of a menu keeps you from knowing what’s coming. The night starts with a procession of bites that eschew cleverness in favor of flavors that are pure and clear—none so memorable, perhaps, as a date stuffed with mascarpone and roasted until it takes on the umami richness of foie gras. From there, it’s on to hand-rolled pastas, then a lusty portion of, among others, crisp-skinned goat or baby pig, meant to summon a communal feast along the Mediterranean coast. Desserts, a weak link in the past, have improved and provide a fittingly glorious finish.
Don’t miss: Trout roe on brioche; foie gras with Concord grape; sourdough with root-vegetable tartare; Greek dumplings with crab; Japanese cheesecake.