A crush on Crush

, Crush entered the market as a “neighborhood” restaurant in Belvedere Square. Like EL, I wonder at that designation. I’d classify it as casual fine dining, and maybe not the very first place you’d think to sit shiva. In any case, I wish Crush were in my neighborhood.

We arrived around 7 p.m. to a brisk business. No room at the bar, no vacancy in Crush’s barroom-cum-lobby. (Interesting space.) We considered leaving, but one of the hosts informed us that patrons at a nearby table had just pulled a credit card. We hovered conspicuously and after a short wait were seated. By 8 the joint was packed. Still, we were able to hold a conversation without raising our voices. Crush acoustics: good.

Our server was cute, adroit and dressed homey casual. I didn’t realize she was a staffer till she asked for our drink order. We hadn’t planned to eat, but we wisely ordered a couple of appetizers.

The martini was fine. Not as frigid as I prefer, but then I didn’t give strict instructions, and it was delightfully larger than I anticipated. Add bonus point for cool olive spear.

The appetizers expressed invention, care and quality: scallops with blue cheese and bacon; shrimp on grits with andouille sausage. More, please.

Crush strikes me as a place that’s capable of eschewing pretention without shedding style. Deliciously hip.

(Algerina Perna/Sun photographer)