Opening onto the street at Providence Place, Napa Valley Grille has always seemed to want to be part of the city’s food scene, despite its corporate provenance. And after five years, it certainly has nestled in and established itself as a top-flight restaurant that can fulfill its ambitious promises.

It’s attractive inside, with high, widely spaced, marble-topped tables in the expansive bar area near the entrance. We non-smokers get elegance as well. The dining room décor is warm and earth-toned, with reminders of the wine theme in every direction. An ornate chandelier contains amber glass cones wrapped with wrought iron vine tendrils. We sat at a banquette beneath a long mural depiction of a farm valley, basking under an imagined Calistoga sun.

The amenities are pleasant, too. We were asked if we wanted a splash of balsamic in our plates of olive oil, and the accompanying slices of focaccia and whole wheat bread were tasty.

It’s safe to say that any place with a 27-page wine list has probably earned the right to be taken seriously on a restaurant scene. Investing that much in a cellar requires not only deep pockets on the part of the corporate ownership, but satisfaction of the prompted expectation. (There are a half-dozen Napa Valley Grilles, four outside California.) Artisan cheeses are available, as well as wine pairing suggestions. Nine flights of wine are offered, with samplings ranging from $10 for the curious, to $45 for the knowledgeable. Our refreshingly informative waitress didn’t steer me wrong as I pulled my chin between pinot noir and zinfandel — and she went so far as to give me a taste of each.

There were no specials on the weekday evening we came, an indication that executive chef Jeffrey Carroll is more concerned with waiting for seasonal opportunities than arbitrarily adding to the 14-item main course list, including five a la carte grill choices. There are 10 appetizers and half as many salads.

The "Chef’s Tasting Tower" ($16) during our visit was crab cakes, oysters on the half shell, and steak tartare. The combination didn’t appeal to us, so we started with a portobello carpaccio ($8) that was fascinatingly described on the menu. It was as intriguing on the tongue: thin slices of grilled balsamic-soaked mushrooms, with arugula and a hint of truffle oil for taste complements, thin slices of Parmesan for bite, roasted shallot coulis for a bonus and unadvertised diced sun-dried tomato for color.

Equally appealing was the calamari and artichoke hearts ($9), lightly floured and fried along with lemon slices prepared the same way — more than clever, on the money tang-wise. Johnnie was curious about the "Beet & Blue" salad ($8), so we tried that as well. Two thick disks of Gorgonzola were layered with red and yellow beets. Crumbled candied walnuts provided texture as well as taste contrast. The worst that could be said was that the described baby lettuce was replaced with red leaf.

For her main course, my dining mate went for a plain summer vegetable plate ($16). But it proved anything but simple. There was roasted asparagus, lightly vinegared grilled spinach, cauliflower purée, sweet tomato chutney, and a portion of dense, golden flan. Disappointing was fennel roasted and wrapped in strudel dough, a preparation ensuring that its delicate anise taste would fade away. Marvelous was the side of vegetable risotto, packed with cauliflower, snap peas, and cherry tomatoes. (The $4 sides include a dangerous baked macaroni with cheddar and chevre. It sounds delicious enough to make your kid an even fussier eater.)

When not stealing a forkful of risotto, I was quite enjoying my grilled Long Island duck breast ($24). Thick, rare slices were fanned atop Himalayan rice so red it looked stir-fried with its mixed-in red cabbage and parti-colored bell peppers and onions. Surrounding that was a gastrique sauce made from the drippings, with orange juice softening the requisite vinegar. Coriander seeds provided little crunched explosions of just the right flavor.

Pastry chef Brad Hammond could not be neglected, so we did our duty at the end of the meal as well. Except for the chai crème brûlée, which is $6, desserts are $8. One temptation was a brownie construction described as including a "brûléed banana" in its phyllo pouch, with orange caramel sauce. But Johnnie hadn’t had any chocolate for hours, so I knew we were going to get the molten chocolate cake. It was equally elaborate, with a mini-mint chocolate-chip-gelato cone sticking out of the cake portion, alongside a small circle of white chocolate mousse.

On the plate was also a small puddle of a nondescript green liquid that had a vaguely herbal taste. It might have been the juice of mint picked before its time, but it might also have been chef Hammond messing with our little minds. After a meal this packed with flavors, blowing out one’s taste buds could very well be a danger.

Bill Rodriguez can be reached at billrod@reporters.net.