Can-Delight Dinner

Candle Cafe

1307 Third Ave. (75th St.)

212-472-0970

When we first met, my partner told me about Candle Cafe, calling it "a date restaurant." (At the time, I couldn't tell if his smirk meant we'd be going.) Though we routinely travel much farther than the Upper East Side for a good vegetarian meal, we do tend to reserve visits to Candle Cafe for special occasions-and tonight demands a celebration.

Candle's casual elegance makes an immediate impression. Simple, earth-toned cloth adorns the walls, and servers seem to follow a basic black?oriented dress code. Such touches accomplish a restaurant feel in a cafe-size setting. The narrow space only holds about a dozen tables, so seating is sometimes a problem. But we're in luck tonight, and within moments Jon and I are perusing the menu, which feels like as much of an indulgence as one of the Candle Cafe smoothies ($6)-the mocha latte, made with soy ice cream and fudge; or the creamsicle, with passion-fruit sorbet, vanilla rice milk and banana.

Jon starts with lentil soup ($5) and grilled focaccia ($3). "This is what I want from a lentil soup, though I prefer French lentils to brown," he says. "If someone were into the seasonal-menu idea, it would come off as a little heavy, but being a fan, I'll take it." It might be my favorite soup in the city: savory and hearty, the essence of homemade. I love the softness of the lentils and the sweet, tender carrots.

But what's with the "focaccia"? "I'm a little put off by the rosemary ciabatta [Jon's guessing it's from Tribeca Ovens] being pawned off as focaccia," he huffs. "And if this was even grilled, it wasn't long enough." He's almost snarling at the lack of substantial grill marks. "I don't want a sandwich roll!" There, there.

I'm pleased with the sesame tofu nori roll ($9/$15). Brown-rice sushi isn't always a treat, but the overall effect here is freshness. And the creamy wasabi sauce that comes with is a surprise hit. It's more sweet than spicy, but subtly so. I drizzle what's left on the sprouts, cabbage and bed of shredded carrot tucked beneath, for a simple, satisfying salad.

Adding to our celebratory mood is a string of unbeatable 80s hits. I thought nothing could top that infamous Cutting Crew track, but along came Journey, Foreigner, Stevie Wonder, what might have been Stevie Winwood, and Olivia Newton-John. (Not to worry: The music is truly part of the background.) Jon tries to convince me that Will Ferrell's version of "I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight" trounces the original. But irony isn't everything; I lived in Williamsburg for close to a decade-I should know.

The hits keep coming as our entrees arrive. They're flawless, from presentation to first and last bite. Both of us have ordered from the "farmer's market entrees," me the chipotle grilled tofu ($16) and Jon the porcini-walnut crusted seitan ($18). When you eat tofu every day for 15 years, novelty is rare and welcome. Here, lovely grill marks and a finely nuanced sauce collide with every bite. The array of tofu surrounds a half avocado stuffed with black beans and quinoa. I'm delighted with what's, for me, high-end comfort food; I've been cutting avo into home-cooked dishes every day for weeks. Icing on the cake? Luscious chard.

"Oh, yes," I hear from across the table. Jon likens his seitan to veal scallopini, and assures me that's a good thing. Seitan tends to take the form of weird, unwielding chunks that are hard to cut, hard to chew. Not at Candle. This pan-fried seitan resembles a soft-shell crab, which is to say, its appearance is fluffy and delicate. Bites slice away easily, only to melt in one's mouth. The oyster mushrooms on top vanished almost immediately, revealing a mound of mashed potatos.

One forkful of these spuds could have justified the entire trip. This mash is neither creamy nor smooth. The texture is firm and flaky, but moist; the flavor is deeply buttery, in a way that reflects a high-quality, fresh potato. I take one bite too many off Jon's plate, and he shoots me a rare warning glare. In other words, get your own. He's enjoying all of this with a glass of Nuova Cappalletta 2003 ($9/$32): "very good for an organic wine" (of which Candle carries quite a few, including several available by bottle only). According to him, 15 years ago, organic wine was generally on the level of Manischewitz; if that's the case, I can see why he views this basic red and its youthful tartness as such an accomplishment.

We've been watching slices of chocolate cake the size of Flatbush ($6) soar past, and soon enough, it's our turn. Our server calls it the "domino effect": "People see a piece of this on the table next to them, and pretty soon every table down the line has one." For damn good reason. Two layers of heavy-duty, moist, midnight-black cake comes together via a dense, fudgy frosting-all complemented with a light berry coulis. The best part? Between the two of us, we couldn't conquer it. Another serving's worth comes home.