Race Lane

The modernist Norman Jaffe building dates to 1981. It has been altered but not entirely disguised. Exit exposed brick and darker accents, enter light fabric and paint. The sitting area around the centerpiece fireplace has been expanded. Likewise, the garden.

The scene is populated with regulars, dressed from beach-casual to club-Hampton. There's plenty of amiable conversation. Service: very friendly.

Maybe the food will improve over time. The mainly American cuisine can be erratic. A fine artichoke salad with arugula and Parmesan cheese is balanced by a tomato-basil soup that suggests weak pasta sauce; the bland fish taco, made with wahoo instead of a local catch, is forgotten after a taste of the juicy Cornish hen. The crock of eggplant Parmigiana, a dull grilled-and-baked affair, is put aside in favor of a good cheeseburger.

You nibble on respectable shrimp tempura, which is better without a bath in the salty dipping sauce; and the moist, grilled swordfish, which gains by subtracting an overpowering rosemary beurre blanc. The soggy apple tart trails a rich, time-capsule chocolate mousse.

Part of Race Lane's appeal is playing with the calendar, going back and looking ahead. A cocktail near the fireplace definitely will have its appeal sometime between Labor Day and New Year's. Toast Jaffe.