Fresh heir

The early 20th century was a good time to be a cocktail lover. Creativity was the norm, fresh juices and mixers were standard, and regional distilleries produced countless spirits. The Ravens Club unmistakably aims to bring this approach to food and drink to Ann Arbor.

Initial impressions are obviously important, and the decor raises expectations. The style combines the ornate aesthetics of the pre-Prohibition United States with a contemporary flair. A detailed, ostensibly hand-carved bar looms over the room. Old iron lampposts illuminate the bar area, and elaborate iron sconces adorn the opposite wall. Attractive wallpaper and black walls provide accents throughout.

Without question, the Ravens Club has style. But does it have substance?

Dig in to their white bean hummus appetizer, and you'll likely answer with a resounding yes. A bean purée was accented by sharper ingredients such as mint, garlic and miso — a rustic feel with a flavorful, herbal punch.

Many Northerners haven't been exposed to shrimp and grits, but for $10, the restaurant offered an appetizing, starchy interpretation of the dish that adds okra and smoky paprika. A similar smoked, spicy flavor was in the house ketchup that accompanied an addictive, $5 cone of pommes frites, crispy on the outside and soft throughout.

In addition to the appetizers, they also offered salads, a cheese plate, and two soups — the house mulligatawny soup and a daily feature, which on a recent trip was a very pleasant onion soup. Made using cheese, this creamy pottage was salty, but like a bag of chips, it created a craving for more.

At first glance, the cuisine is a hodgepodge, with influences ranging from Asia to the American plains, but the approach is actually quite cohesive. From appetizers through dessert, the Ravens Club consistently offers genuine, rustic, often earthy flavors that suggest an older, bygone approach to food.

Confit of Rabbit. Savory Chicken Pastry. Prairie Game Chili. These are not standard menu items in most of today's restaurants. But they're nonetheless simultaneously familiar and creative. The chili ($14), for example, is a tender stew of antelope meat replete with beans and roasted veggies. If that doesn't evoke imagery of turn-of-the-century life on the plains, the garnishes might: a piece of roasted quail and a chunk of Cheyenne batter bread.

Of course, familiarity and creativity don't guarantee enjoyment. Among our party, the bucolic tang of the cuisine caused some sharp divides. Perhaps no dish was more polarizing than the lamb-and-pork-belly cabbage rolls, which consisted of ground meat stuffed inside cabbage leaves and served with potatoes and an acidic tomato-based sauce. Fans of clean flavors or elegant haute cuisine might find this hearty victual off-putting; but conversely, those who enjoy a bit of earthiness or country comfort flair might fall in love at first bite.

> Email Evan Hansen