To walk into the Red Cat on an early autumn evening, a slight nip in the air, is to realize more than a few of the season’s implied promises. The summer not completely faded from memory or face, everyone looks good, particularly when proudly sporting their brand-new suedes and leathers. There’s a glow in the room, thanks to the oversized Moroccan hanging lanterns and the judiciously-applied splashes of red – on the tables, the wainscoting, the servers’ uniforms.  The work of neighborhood artists decorates the walls and, indeed, there’s a sense that you have entered one of those well-loved establishments supported by the locals.  The vibe is relaxed and confident, comfortable and professional.  And while the room evokes an upscale New England eatery, one of those places you yearn for when your summer place has closed for the season, there’s also the rush of adrenaline most often associated with ambitious New Yorkers.

As for the food?  It’s equally as comfortable and confident as the clientele and wait staff.  To start, a quick sauté of zucchini matchsticks, tossed with toasted almonds and pecorino – the sort of salad that finds one sopping up the last bits with a hunk of bread.  And baked polenta, arriving piping hot in an iron skillet, with a thick and bubbling coating of parmesan, beneath which is the polenta, as smooth as panna cotta, mixed with stewed tomatoes: in essence, an upscale mac-n-cheese, with less guilt.  And a basket of herbed fries, crisp and salty, acting as a perfect complement to a cornbread panzanella, mixed with arugula and parmesan, and dressed with pomegranate vinaigrette.

There’s an easy graciousness to the wait staff, marked by humor and stylishness. You trust their taste to be good; you’re comfortable in their recommendations.  And you’re grateful to them for knowing that even when you don’t order dessert, you most definitely would enjoy one of those chocolate truffles.  Two for the table, with the check, which, in all honesty, you hardly mind paying, given the number of autumn’s promises that have been fulfilled with one meal.