Sage Bistro

 The food is French, one owner comes from Turkey, and the other was born inEl Salvador -- could Bistro Sage be more Long Island?

Spare yet tasteful in appearance, the cozy Bellmore restaurant often reverberates with loud conversation. Acoustics aside, however, this can be a pleasant spot to lunch or dine. Co-owner Onur Peter Oktas greets guests with cordiality and warmth while chef-co-owner Julio Velasquez knows what to do with a pot of mussels and a head of garlic.

I tasted plenty of garlic in the triangular wedge of green-flecked herb butter that arrives alongside a pat of sweet butter, to be spread on crusty slices of baguette. There may be no better way to begin a meal here than with the salade frisée aux lardons -- frilled chicory tossed with salty cubes of crisp bacon in a balanced vinaigrette, a poached egg atop all. When broken, the yolk runs over everything, to delicious effect. Mussels Provençale, served in a copper pot, were plump and fresh, bathed in a sauce of fresh tomato, garlic and basil. I was less enamored of an onion and Gruyère tart dotted with black olives that imparted an unwelcome pungency. But French onion soup was a rich, if salty, classic, crowned with a lush melt of Gruyère atop a toasted slice of French bread. Escargots, too were good; they came in the traditional indented dish, topped with the same garlic-herb butter that accompanied the bread. And I liked the steak tartare, the ground raw beef liberally studded with capers and plated with toasted baguette slices and a frisée salad.

A simple old-fashioned bistro classic was a roasted chicken for two, served with roasted potatoes and bright buttery green beans. I liked, as well, the moist hazelnut-crusted salmon with horseradish, accompanied by a soothing puree of apple and celery root. But steak au poivre was chewy and overcooked, its exterior almost devoid of pepper, its sauce rather gloppy. A much better choice, I thought, was the ultra-tender lamb shank served with a lush vegetable risotto.

One problem with the genial international servers was their lack of facility with English. When a member of our party asked the young man who delivered a plate of duck breast and confit what the cylindrical pile was (confit, it turned out), he shrugged and ran to the kitchen. "Vegement," was the cryptic answer he came back with. Which was ironic, since the vegetable that was supposed to be included with the dish (mushroom gratin) was notably missing. The duck, however, was fine, drizzled with a fruity-savory cranberry and sage sauce.

At lunch, a crêpe stuffed with spinach and chicken seemed more Italian than French, its filling oily and too garlicky. The house burger was thick -- in fact, too thick -- and lacking in meaty intensity. Accompanying fries would have been fine had they been served truly hot, but isn't that always a problem with thin French fries? The best afternoon choices, I thought, were a bright salade Niçoise and a pan bagnat (accurately described as a sandwich version of the Niçoise salad), a sourdough roll stuffed with tuna, field greens, olives, hard-cooked eggs, string beans, peppers and onions in a light vinaigrette.

For dessert, a dense bittersweet chocolate mousse was dark and seductive. How much better it would have been had it come with freshly whipped cream instead of an aerosol squirt. A neatly turned-out apple tart on puff pastry was drizzled with with caramel sauce and well paired with hazelnut ice cream.

Bistro Sage may not be a highly polished operation as yet, but this friendly little place does offer its own enticements: satisfying fare, presented with aNew York-style soupçon of Gallic charm.

Reviewed by Joan Reminick, 9/20/06.