April 17 (Bloomberg) -- The vat of orange goo is gone. The Palm Pilots are history. The flambe light-show has been canceled. Bouillabaisse and bourride have been bumped -- for now. Welcome to the new Provence.

The empty seats have disappeared, too.

Provence, a charming regional French restaurant in Manhattan's Soho, closed last year following a two-decade run. It reopened last week.

Vicki Freeman and Marc Meyer -- the pair behind the haute- barnyard Cookshop -- are the new owners.

The space looks pretty much the same, except for Balthazar- like crowds that pack the place. Window frames are still clad in blue, walls in gold. Remember the garden out back? It's there too.

At the old Provence, waiters came equipped with Palm Pilots to take your order. Not anymore.

``Do you have any sparkling wine?'' I asked two years ago.

``No, we have champagne,'' a waiter curtly replied. He brought me an excellent $14 glass, but I preferred the $10 flute of bubbly rose I tried Thursday.

Ever drink the house dessert wine? The iridescent orange muck sat in a clear-glass vat for all to see. (It actually tasted pretty good.) The vat's gone.

The old Provence was one of the few places you could get scallops in their shells, briny and roasted with garlic. Now they're plucked from the raw bar and doused with grapefruit juice to form a cold, shallow soup. The sweet diver scallops slide down your throat. What's that hint of anise? Fennel.

Fish Aflame

I remember that licorice-y vegetable well. At the old Provence, a signature entree was loup de mer over fennel. Waiters would present the whole fish and set it ablaze. The heat nearly knocked you over, and everyone stared. Then the dish was hurried to the kitchen for a quick filet.

Still, I preferred the less theatrical porgy ordered last week. The fish wasn't just grilled whole; it was served whole.

Drop your fork and knife and eat the daunting creature with your hands; you'll be picking out bones anyway. Dip the white flesh and the burnished, salted skin into the olive oil that meanders around your plate.

Currently, bouillabaisse is no more; bourride, the garlicky Provencal fish soup, has been replaced by a rich fish soup, complete with rouille (chili-pepper and oil sauce) and toast for dunking. But the owners say the two will be back soon.

I miss the blancmange dessert, but profiteroles -- one of them stuffed with licorice ice cream -- fulfilled my cravings.

My Thursday night dinner for one, which included two glasses of wine and three courses, cost $81. My Friday solo dinner, which included two glasses of wine, four courses and a side of frites, cost $90.

Provence is at 38 Macdougal St., near Prince Street. Information: +1-212-475-7500.

Resto

``You have 50 beers, but no Stella?''

Two patrons were not happy. All the beers are Belgian, from 50 to more than 60 each week. No Budweiser. No Sam Adams.

Light beer?

No way. Try a Trappist, or a fruity lambic.

Send complaints to Christian Pappanicholas, owner of Resto, the Belgian-style gastropub off Park Avenue South. He'll take a few minutes to acquaint you with the list.

Just want beer? No worries. Sit at the counter and drink. The gastropub is more pub than gastro in the later hours. Pappanicholas deserves credit for setting up a bar that's not reserved, as is often the case these days, for diners.

Come early or late. The bar was three deep on Saturday night. Eaters can seek refuge at wooden tables.

Fried Meatballs

How does one improve on pork meatballs? Deep-fry them. The ``poppers'' were crunchy outside, soft and medium-rare inside.

Scallops get a Belgian twist with chickpea waffles and Brussels sprouts.

Resto initially topped its burger with brilliantly pungent Chimay cheese. Chef Ryan Skeen isn't afraid to challenge diners with complex, astringent flavors. That cheese has already been replaced with something milder. Call and complain. After all, if you like beer, you like bitter.

The burger itself contains a blend of beef cheek and hanger. No temperature is taken -- the chef griddles the patty till done. The result is a salty, crusty char with a moist interior.

Liege waffles sport a cookie crunch; Brussels-style are softer, with a welcome bit of candied orange peel.

My Wednesday night dinner with two beers cost $44. My one- beer Saturday night dinner was $56.

Resto is at 111 E. 29th St., near Park Avenue South. Information: +1-212-685-5585.

(Ryan Sutton is a writer for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this story: Ryan Sutton in New York at rsutton1@bloomberg.net.

Last Updated: April 17, 2007 00:04 EDT