Jonesing

The birds are flying south, the leaves are falling, as is the Dow. The country is faced with possible war and a shaky economy -- as Thomas Paine said, “These are the times that try men’s souls.” I don’t know why someone didn’t think of it sooner, but it took Stephen Starr to get the message and give people exactly what they both need and want.

Jones is a handsome haven from the problems of today -- built of rough-hewn stone and warm wood, with a see-through fireplace in the sunken dining room and big comfortable booths and Eames chairs. It has a Wright-ian, '50s sensibility which is instantly reassuring. Over the long bar, there is a mural of women tossing balls around on a beach, and it appears on the menu as well. These '40s-vintage gals would be shocked if they saw the cocktails the bar is dishing out in droves -- tequila, grapefruit juice and 7-Up, Stoli vanilla vodka with chocolate shavings. We, however, will just go so far in the spirit of playfulness, and order martinis.

The tables are lacquered that lovely shade of aqua that Starr seems to favor in all his restaurants, but there are paper napkins (?) and Venetian blinds on the windows from which you can view the hordes of people lining up to come in. It's a very mixed crowd. There are seniors and young things, and everyone is waiting hungrily for what they used to disdain in the lunchroom. With Blue Angel, Morimoto and now Jones, Starr has turned the 700 block of Chestnut Street into his own Restaurant Row.

With the exception of polenta, potstickers and seared tuna, there is nothing on the menu here that will not take you back to a simpler time. It's all about comfort food, but best of all it's affordable, so if your craving is for that mac and cheese, there's a creamy, baked appetizer version that should bring satisfaction. Adam DeLosso, the chef, has created a down-home menu that tastes ravishingly good. You can have a wedge of iceberg lettuce with Russian dressing poured over it that reminds you of when lettuce was crisp and green and solid, not little green and red leaves. Crisp tacos are filled with seared, rare tuna, avocado relish and the soapy, green flavor of cilantro. Maybe that was home cooking in Mexico, but never here, although it has become so popular in the last years that it's considered comfort food, too. Potato pancakes are not Jewish-style, full of onions and chicken fat, but suave and kind of sexy, with a golden crust and soft interior. The one sure winner is the deviled eggs -- everyone's favorite picnic food, and the first thing to go on a cocktail party tray. These are creamy and touched with mustard, and do not have that refrigerator taint that afflicts so many of their brothers.

The wine list is small and decently priced, with a lot of bottles in the $30 range, but we opt for the rarely seen, delicious Allagash White beer. It goes well with the gutsy food we're shoveling in with abandon. Old-fashioned meatloaf, crowned with a ketchup sheen, atop real whipped potatoes! Thanksgiving dinner of roast turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy -- any night of the week! Brisket with root vegetables, which I am told tastes even better in a sandwich at lunchtime. Turkey pot pie, bursting with vegetables and tender turkey under a golden crust, or a turkey burger if you're worried about calories, although no one in The Brady Bunch days worried about calories.

And that's where you really are, you know -- transported back to when the economy was humming, children were safe on the streets and every girl was a virgin. The fried chicken and waffles are so good that they have me philosophizing over the crisp skin, the sweet waffles, the gravy with real chicken flavor. A companion is smitten with the BBQ double-cut pork chop, which is tender, smoky and well-suited to the triangles of polenta that accompany it, and the mélange of vegetables that includes (horrors!) okra. We even get a side of creamed spinach, which is geared to grownups, not babies. The spinach is real and so is the cream.

Desserts are trumpeted as le vrai chose, and they do seem to be wrenched from Horn and Hardart's storage locker -- for instance, strawberry Jell-O parfait with Cool Whip. Duncan Hines chocolate layer cake served with a cold glass of milk makes a great after-school snack as well as dessert. Don't overlook the chocolate chip ice cream sandwich with warm chocolate sauce -- it's the best you've ever had. And my favorite of all is the coconut cream pie; it has a macadamia crust, a custardy layer, a crown of whipped cream and coconut, and chocolate and caramel sauces for good measure. Now that is pie.

When we left, there was still an hour-and-a-half wait for a table, and despite this the waitstaff was efficient and unflappable. The no-reservations policy might bring in the crowds or drive them away -- we'll have to see. Meanwhile, I'll go back in a minute for lunch or dinner, because it's not just a gimmick, it's done well. Jones is every-restaurant, and when other restaurateurs see Starr's success they will copy his concept and, hopefully, his prices.

Down home is here for now, just when we needed it the most. What will follow? Just ask Stephen Starr.

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