[Photographs: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

A decade or so ago, the food world was abuzz about the boundary-pushing cuisine of Spanish chefs, led by Ferran Adrià at El Bulli—such that when the Spanish restaurant Meigas opened on Hudson Street with Luis Bollo as the chef, William Grimes at the New York Times declared, "Spanish foam has finally washed ashore on Manhattan Island... It was only a matter of time." Bollo's menu was one part inventive (a foamed lobster gazpacho) and one part traditional (baby squid in its own ink), and his suckling pig was so good that Ed still rhapsodizes about it. In short, the chef made an impression.

Bollo relocated Meigas to Norwalk, Connecticut, in 2001, and since then, he's been working in Connecticut and New Jersey, at Princeton's Mediterra. But with Salinas, he's returned to New York to open a largely traditional Spanish restaurant, its dishes ranging from delicately portioned tapas to paella and, to Ed's initial delight, suckling pig.

It's a good-looking space once you make your way past the front bar—the restaurant opens into an airy garden dining room whose entire roof is a retractable skylight, flooding the space with soft light, incredibly pleasant on a warm summer evening. But our thoughts were on the menu, of course. Ten years later, how would Bollo's food stack up?

It's a menu filled with appealing-sounding bites, most of the dishes multifaceted but essentially straightforward. Of the tapas, we started with the classic Pa Amb Oli ($8): bread rubbed with garlic, topped with crushed tomatoes and olive oil. It's predictably tasty with the garlic coming through forcefully, with a sprinkle of sea salt that heightens the flavors—though two pieces of bread for eight bucks seemed a little high for us. (At upscale tapas bar Boqueria, which we think is a fair enough comparison, portions are much larger and cost $5.)

We felt similarly toward the Crujiente Mahonés ($11); it's described as a "flatbread" on the menu, but the correct and more accurate translation is "cracker." That's what we got; it was thin with a delicate crisp, topped with an alluring salty-sweet combo of honey, thyme, and crumbly Mahon cheese. Still, an $11 cracker?

My favorite of the tapas, the one that seemed a little closer to justifying its cost, was the Coles y Coliflor ($9), fried brussels sprouts and green cauliflower, with a yogurt-mint sauce and Pimentón de la Vera (smoky paprika dried over oak leaf fires). While we've had more flavorful brussels sprouts, these had a good crisp and a tender interior, the tangy yogurt sauce and a shower of smoked paprika a delight to drag them through.

The starters are slightly larger, more composed dishes, like the Langostinos al Ajillo ($14), hon shimeji mushrooms and head-on shrimp. The flavors are deep and satisfying, a buttery garlic-lemon sauce with deeper flavors picked up from the mushrooms and shrimp. Those shrimp were a bit mushy (there's an enzyme in shrimp heads that destroys the texture of the meat unless they're extraordinarily fresh), but more than enjoyable nonetheless.

We thought those shrimp worked better as a dish than the Codorniz con Ciruelas ($18), quail legs wrapped in bacon with plums, spring onions, and mushrooms. We liked the crisp of the bacon against the quail, and the tasty rioja balsamic sauce, but how the large halved plums fit in with the rest of it was a bit of a mystery. Everything was done well, though we ate each element separately.

Rosejat Rápida ($24), their version of a dish you may know as rossejat de fideus, was our favorite of the entrée-portioned platos—it's essentially short lengths of wheat noodles cooked like a paella, here studded with chicken and chorizo and topped with cockles. Those noodles are toasted then rapidly simmered in broth until tender and bound in a sauce thickened with their own starch. The noodles themselves were fantastic here—nicely al dente in a creamy sauce that held them together. The chicken bits in particular, however, seemed out of place and were a touch overcooked; whereas the chorizo flavored the overall dish somewhat, that chicken just didn't. Anything tasted good after a dip through the saffron alioli, though; it may have been the tastiest thing we had all night. (That doesn't speak badly of the rest of the food. A good aioli is a great thing.)

We ended up using it to save a large part of the Menestra ($19, $5 extra to add ham), the vegetarian dish on the menu. We were skeptical reading the description ("seasonal vegetables, organic hard boil egg, wheat berries") but, on the waitress's eager recommendation, tried it anyway. Though no one element was too bad—the beans unevenly cooked, but otherwise fine—nothing brought it together as a dish; it seemed nothing more than a vegetarian afterthought. The Serrano ham didn't add any flavor, appearing just tossed on top. It's the kind of haphazard plate that you'd make as a simple dinner for yourself, but at $24 from a reasonably upscale restaurant, it felt somewhat lacking.

With Ed speaking so highly of Bollo's suckling pig, we couldn't leave without trying the Porcella ($38), here flavored with Pedro Ximinez sherry and served with grilled apricots. While flavorful and tender enough, it didn't quite have the succulence you'd expect from a suckling pig; the skin was crisp but not memorably so. In short, it's a very good dish that, given the ingredients, cost, and reputation of the chef, didn't wow us the way it should have. Points for a frisee and watercress salad, light and vinegary, well-seasoned, and a smart counterpart to such a rich dish. (You don't order suckling pig for the salad, though. Or pay $38 for it.)

See more dishes in the slideshow above »

If you find youself at Salinas, you're likely to have a pleasant meal, with plenty on the menu to enjoy. The airy back room is a gorgeous place to dine in the summer, at just the right spot between outdoors and in; I'd be quite content with a glass of Garnacha and a plate of rosejat rápida any night of the week.

The problem is, with tapas that start around $8 and entrees in the mid-$20s or higher, we wanted something more. The restaurant encourages high expectations. (Its website reads "Salinas Restaurant: Elite Restaurant in Chelsea." They're selling luxury.) The setting is beautiful, but close quarters (it's easy to bump knees with your neighbor); service was cordial, but the pacing of our meal awkward (the patatas bravas arrived at least 15 minutes after our entrées with no explanation as to why, and the desserts took upwards of 20 minutes to appear). Frankly, if the prices came down a bit, it'd be easier to recommend Salinas. But white tablecloth prices suggest white tablecloth standards; and against those, Salinas has not quite arrived.