A deep wine list and a menu of many hues at Purple Café

It seems as if every two years Larry and Tabitha Kurofsky give birth to another Purple Café.

Their eldest is in Woodinville's wine country; their second in Kirkland's Park Place.

Their third offspring arrived in Seattle last summer, and with this one, the Kurofskys have hit their stride.

The three restaurants share a family resemblance and a focus on wine, but each has a mood and menu adapted to its milieu. In downtown Seattle, the customer base encompasses townies and tourists, business and leisure classes, museum- and movie-goers, people with kids and those without. Purple Café will appeal to them all thanks to a flexible menu, a far-reaching wine list and an intelligent staff conversant with both, not to mention a grand ground-floor space with two-story-tall windows that allow breathtaking glimpses skyward from the bottom of downtown's urban canyon.

Heavy metal is a recurring theme in the medieval-meets-modern décor: Just pushing open the massive front doors gives new meaning to pumping iron. Cushions soften the wrought-iron seats of nearly immovable chairs, their backs woven into a graceful lattice design echoed in hefty napkin rings, breadbaskets and even the ceiling. Giant chandeliers made of coppery rings with lights that mimic fat candles look like something Henry VIII might have hung over his dinner table.

Hank likely would have coveted Purple's wine tower with its wraparound spiral staircase. It rises from the center of the room, behind a semicircular concrete bar where suits-and-ties sit next to leather-and-fleece like acolytes at the altar of Bacchus.

The ancient god of wine gets his due on an international list that numbers hundreds of selections. More than 80 wines are available by the glass, many organized into flights of four 2.5-ounce tastes ($14-$26), with themes like "lush and juicy whites" (pinot gris, gewurtztraminer and viognier) and "teethstainer" reds, hailing from Chile, France and California.

The kitchen, under chef Alex Nemeth, executes an eclectic menu that encourages sampling as well. Our party of three started one meal with a trio from the "Tasting Bar," a tempting roster of tapaslike bites available after 3 p.m. ($3-$5.50 each/minimum three).

Glossy red peppadews stuffed with smoked salmon cream cheese proved a fabulously feisty duo, the pungent fish meeting the pickled fruit head on. Duck confit with cambozola capped crostini spread with fig jam, a sweet balance to the tender, savory duck and salty melt of cheese. Baby beets with feta frolicked in a garlicky skordalia sauce brightened with lemon.

Enough of these threesomes could make a meal, or you could forge on to full-fledged appetizers, sandwiches, salads, pizza and pasta; or, come 4 p.m., dinner entrees such as pan-roasted halibut, grilled scallops and shrimp and braised beef short ribs.

The golden-crusted halibut, held aloft on logs of fried chickpea purée, looks as pretty as a spring day with its ruffle of fresh spinach, scattering of lima beans and vibrant green pea sauce suggestive of tarragon and other herbs. The shellfish are skewered and cooked with care, but their lovely yellow tomato sauce had been mostly absorbed by the slab of grilled bread at the bottom of the bowl.

The short ribs sit in a yellow sea of creamy polenta, and it's a tossup which is softer. A taste of honey in the sauce, a bit of pickled onion sprinkled on top are welcome foils for the lusciously rich meat.

Pastas include lobster macaroni and cheese. You'll spot the deep square bowl with its frilly chapeau of fried leeks and sweet potato on almost every table, and here's why: plenty of lobster lurking among bell-shaped noodles submerged in a gruyere sauce as luxurious as a silk scarf.

Pasta "Primaverde" is less likely to cause cardiac arrest. Tender little ear-shaped orecchiette join peas and their vines, cauliflower and grape tomatoes, managing to taste light and lively even in a sauce thickened with caciocavallo cheese. Not so light: sweet pea-stuffed ravioli — but the too-chewy pasta is redeemed by a wonderfully earthy mushroom and tarragon sauce.

Chewy is a good thing where pizza is concerned. Purple's 10-inch pies have a thin but dense crust and can be had plain or fancified with things like pesto and shrimp, gorgonzola and pear. Or my choice: slices of prosciutto atop puddles of pungent fontina cheese subtly perfumed with truffle oil and topped with fresh arugula.

Lunch might be a salad (they come in half portions) and a sandwich — perhaps a crusty ciabatta bun packed with moist grilled salmon, tart red onion relish, tangy whole-grain mustard and arugula. A few dollars extra buys dreamy sweet-potato fries.

Or you might lunch like the lady who settled with her shopping bags at the bar and ordered a cheese plate and a wine flight that included Madeira, port and two other sweet wines dubbed "No Room for Dessert?"

In fact, you don't need much room for dessert. Pastry chef Natalie West offers a collection of tiny treats. Like the sublimely smooth banana and toffee crème brûlée. Intense raspberry chocolate truffles. Bite-size cookies paired with a scoop of ice cream in assorted flavors. The minimum dessert order is two; the maximum is up to you.

Providence Cicero: providencecicero@aol.com