Stop me if you’ve heard this one:

A smallish restaurant opens in Portland, with the goal of serving great food in a clean, elegant environment. The cuisine will be simply prepared, seasoned appropriately, and delivered by friendly waitstaff. Vegetarians and vegans have more than one menu option, yet omnivores have their choice of steak, chicken, and fish. There’s a tidy and exploratory wine list, with each item available by the glass, and there are even high-end beers served in burgundy stemware.

Hold on, you haven’t even heard the punch line: You pay about a third less than the going rate for all of it.

Well, there’s a reason no one stopped me, other than the fact that I’m sitting alone in my pajamas typing this: It doesn’t really exist. Strike that, it didn’t really exist, not until Blue Spoon opened up a couple of months ago on Congress Street, up on the Hill. Combating the rising price of the average entrée in the city (it seems as if most places hit you up for $18 or $19 these days), Blue Spoon offers fare that not only tastes like it could cost more, but, by most restaurant economists’ standards (they have them?) should cost more.

We’re not talking Lang’s Express all-you-can-eat prices here, but if a place is going to work hard to save me 15 or 20 dollars on my entrees and a bottle of wine, than dammit, they deserve some sort of medal. Or a gold belt, like in wrestling.

And when you walk in the door, and look at the menu, and eat the food, the philosophy of the business comes through loud and clear: Keep it simple, keep it flavorful, keep it beautiful. And keep it accessible. Contrary to recent suggestion, a patron shouldn’t have to have an in-depth conversation with the chef/owner to understand what they’re trying to do. A good cook will present his or her viewpoint through the work, and Blue Spoon has some very good cooks behind its open line.

For openers, wife Jackie and I decided to split one of the aforementioned "gourmet" beers, described as a fruity Belgian-style ale from Cooperstown’s Ommegang Brewery. I detected more caramelized sugar than fruit, and it was not quite the pale wheat beer we were expecting. It was delicious, though, and the 750 ml bottle allowed us two servings each and was plenty for the meal.

The bread was a nice sourdough baguette, crafted by the bakers at One Fifty-Eight in South Portland, who, incidentally, are starting to see a lot more wholesale business with in-town restaurants. Their artisan philosophy goes well with Blue Spoon.

Our appetizers, the Mussels Aglio Olio and the antipasti-like Mezzi Plate, were both enough for a light dinner, or an evening snack if you’re munching at the four-seat bar. The mussels were served with the standard white-wine and lemon broth, but this one was spiked with minced roasted garlic. The broth was so clean, crisp, and balanced that I had to ask for a spoon to finish it in soup-like fashion. The Mezzi Plate was just that, a medium-sized platter that would serve as a dinner for those wanting not to spend much. Included was: peppered semi-dry sausage, olives, roasted red peppers, a fish roe spread (called taramasalla), fresh mozzarella, and flatbread wedges for use as foundation. Our server thoughtfully warned us of the almond garnish, just in case of allergies.

I was slightly skeptical about the dish I ordered, Roasted Chicken "Under a Brick." As it was described to me, a half chicken was seared in a pan and finished in the oven with a heated, foil-wrapped brick on top to compress it and cook it in its juices. I nervously wondered if all the squeezing-out of the liquid would leave it dry, but, as I mentioned before, these are good cooks here. The chicken was a gorgeous dark golden, and as I tasted the accompanying sauce and roasted veggies, I threw my fork down and exclaimed: "What the hell?"

Jackie looked up from the flakiness of her Trout Stuffed with Tuscan Mixed Greens (over a bed of beautifully salted brown rice), and asked if anything was wrong. "Well, this carrot tastes like a carrot. Just like a carrot. How can so many places screw that up?" And as if my outburst wasn’t melodramatic enough, I swore again, this time an even worse one. It’s true, though. Carrots are good enough. Let them speak for themselves.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind paying the standard price at a nice restaurant around here. I really don’t. Provided, however, the food fits the bill. Too many places rest their menus on the industry average and don’t come to the field prepared to play. I know that most owners and chefs aren’t getting rich in the restaurant business, and many don’t even know that they’re over-charging. But we, as consumers, need to be aware of those places that are trying to buck the trend, and nurture them into success. Go to Blue Spoon, support it, have a slice of Apple and Pear Pie or Carrot Cake to polish off the evening.

Let’s keep their goal from becoming a joke.

Andy King can be reached at snandis@yahoo.com