Conjuring a fun, casual warmth from a crisp, mostly black-and-white dcor, Magnolia is regal enough that amiable Penguin-clad diners praise it to strangers in the bathroom.

The owners know how to create fuss-free fun: Their bar just up the street—called, simply, The Bar—is a hidden haven that, like Magnolia, aims for a faade that's notable but not overdone. (We're convinced the waitstaff's uniforms of Dickies and white belts were already in the closets of all who were hired.) Rows of square black tables surrounded by clean white brick comprise open clusters of formal dining areas; black leather couches offer choices for a more low-key pitstop that are still a step up from a stool at the central bar. A small enclosed patio out back, housing just a few tables, is even more intimate. The menu, which includes brunch and late-night options, is heavy on seafood options but not heavy. Appetizers like the shrimp cocktail and ahi tuna tartare are tasty without being overbearing; entrees include salmon, free-range chicken and a just-right lobster ravioli. A sandwich made of soft chocolate chip cookies and mint chocolate chip ice cream brought our evening to an appropriately pretense-free conclusion. —Lonny Pugh