For nearly a decade, Jennifer Gittins and Michael van den Winkel owned and operated midtown's beloved Stork on the Roof. And just when their bouncing baby was all grown up, they turned their back on some nasty landlord lunacy and flew off to Europe. Reinvigorated and revitalized, the husband-and-wife team returned to their neighbourhood roost, this time to feed some pretty familiar mouths modern Mediterranean fare at their new bistro, Quince.

Like at Stork, van den Winkel mans the stoves while Gittins deftly handles front-of-house duties and desserts. But van den Winkel's decision to wake up from his slumber is the real story; he reveals more confident cooking than ever before, and bolder, more inventive flavours.

Like whiny, impatient infants, most of us can't wait to put something in our mouths when deciding what to order. And bread and bean purée seems pretty de rigueur these days (what happened to good old butter?). Aiming to offer something out of the ordinary, van den Winkel serves his own chewy, ground aniseed breadsticks (among other breads brought in).

But a silky smooth, mousse-like chicken-liver parfait ($7) soon steals the show, aided and abetted by a wondrous port gelatin and a hint of quince chutney. On par with this perfect parfait is gossamer house-made ravioli ($9) packed with a season-friendly filling of butternut squash and mascarpone, as well as heady chanterelles ratcheting up the flavour quotient exponentially. The opening trio concludes with elegant but earthy sweetbreads ($10), offering a glorious contrast between a crispy, pan-fried exterior and creamy interior. The dish is so flawless, it casts a shadow over a splendid side of rosemary-scented, bacon-studded lentil ragout.

But flawless isn't exactly the word that best describes a Dutch poutine ($7). What exactly is Dutch about it? Apparently the peanut sauce married up with some exquisitely tender spiced braised beef. Tragically, if not for the limp frites, this dish would be first-rate. Ribs ($8) also misfire, swimming in a salty pool of citrus glaze. Adding in-salt to injury, the meat has an off-putting gaminess you don't expect from pork.

Thankfully, mains show a return to top form. But what's this - a spanking new wood-burning oven with nary a pizza on the menu? Are they mad? Pleased by the daring move, we savour an oven-roasted chicken ($17), whose sprightly herb-and-lemon marinade isn't upstaged by its smokiness. It's almost as succulent as Alice Water's Chez Panisse classic, without the two-hour wait and/or accompanying snobbery. Same with a moist oven-baked sea bream ($25), whose subtle infusion and bracing scent of fresh lemon and thyme successfully survive a wood-oven smoke.

Also impressive is a canoe-shaped capunti ($15). Although store-bought, this pasta delivers on its rustic roots big-time through a toss of mixed mushrooms, radicchio, sage and black-truffle oil. But things go awry again with a lamb sirloin ($19) that's as tough from undercooking as is its accompanying flageolet-bean casserole.

Gittins' desserts, too, are hit-and-miss. A tarte Tatin ($7) is saddled with sickly sweet, slightly overcooked apples, even if they sit on a nicely flaky pastry. And a chocolate-caramel bread pudding ($7) is closer to a spice cake than the centuries-old peasant classic.

Quince is surprisingly large for a bistro. Despite its size, the room, created by Curr Didrichsons Designs, has a lived-in warmth and patina that can take years of wear and tear. Loyal Stork fans or not, it's obvious that Quince has already struck a chord in the neighbourhood. On a recent weeknight outing, business was booming with clients who seemed eager to reconnect with Gittins and van den Winkel's cooking, proving the old adage: if you love them, let them go and if they come back, they are yours to keep.

WITH FILES FROM DON DOULOFF