Open now for almost two years, the Modern’s Bar Room is nearly as packed with eager eaters as it was when it opened. This is after all a Danny Meyer restaurant, the same restauranteur behind the visionary Union Square Cafe, Tabla, 11 Madison Park, and five other restaurants across town and, together with Meyer’s Gramercy Tavern, the recipient of one star from Le Guide Michelin. And like these other restaurants, everything about the room indicates a space that has been thought through with astonishing attention to detail: a zen-like entrance tunnel empties into a space that is spare but bustling with movement; tables are precisely set with stylized, minimalist silverware, and pint-sized Eames-style chairs cosy up to rows of tables in front of a translucent white wall that separates the Bar Room from the Dining Room. The style is modern European, or a kind of B&B Italia meets Terence Conran. In fact, the Modern reminds me of nothing so much as a Conran eatery- in a sense, the Modern is New York’s Plateau.

But despite appearances, this is New York, not London, and those beautiful curves outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the main dining room are the Henry Moores and Giacomettis of MoMA’s Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Sculpture Garden. For those in the main dining room (the Bar Room has no direct view of the garden), the proximity of such intoxicating sculptures is almost like having Picasso and Rodin as dining companions. HungryMom and I wanted a little more privacy that that, however when we paid the Modern a visit last week. Booking nearly two weeks ahead, the Bar Room had tables during the part of the evening most people would consider dinner-time, while a table in the main restaurant would have meant choosing between equally disagreeable 5:00 p.m. or 10:30 p.m. reservations (we booked online and without problems, although had I not responded to a message on my answering machine seeking re-confirmation, I would have lost the table).

The Modern has a menu that requires an explanation. Dishes are divided into three columns and everything on the menu is a small plate. The first column includes mostly cold appetizers; the second, hot. To further confuse matters, dishes in the third column are billed as ‘half-sized entrees.’ Our server guided us competently through the list of options — suggesting we order three dishes if we were hungry, two if we weren’t — but given that the prices range from $10-$17 no matter the column, our budget meant that our meal looked less like Paul Cezanne’s overflowing fruit dish and more like a minimalist Rothko. I suppose if we were really hungry, we could have been seated in the dining room, with its $155 Autumn Tasting Menu. But in that case we would have had fewer choices: unlike other restaurants with split personalities, the Bar Room and the main dining room have completely different menus. This means that the kitchen prepares over 50 different dishes each night - no small achievement.

And the quality of what comes out of that kitchen is at times extraordinary. My basil gnocchi ($17) were soft yet pleasantly chewy, with crispy basil leaves complementing small spheres of sweetbread that were lightly fried themselves. Best of all were the sprinkling of oyster and champignon mushrooms, whose earthiness balanced the sweetness in the basil-flavored broth. This was indeed a small dish; it held out for little more than four or five forkfuls. Hungrymom’s wild mushroom soup ($12) had more of those wonderful oyster mushrooms, but these were whizzed up in a food processor first, turning the soup into an intense, mushroom-infused puree. In a dramatic flourish, three chorizo ravioli - more akin to empanadas or samosas - lay balanced against each other in origami-like folded napkins, ready to be dropped into the soup or eaten right away. I liked the crispy chorizo packets, but together with the well-seasoned soup, the combination was far too salty for one dish.

HungryMom and I decided to stick to just two plates each to save room for dessert. This turned out to be an easy accomplishment given the paltry portions of our second courses. My spice-crusted lamb ($16) turned out to be two finger-sized cuts of tender meat accompanied by a wedge of potato gratin and a drizzle of pomegranate reduction. Despite its diminutive dimensions, the lamb was juicy and soft and tasted, in a revelatory way, of lamb. Even better was the gratin side dish, prepared with heavy cream and Spanish Manchego cheese, and among the best things I have eaten in a restaurant this year. Note to the Modern: offer this as a separate side order and it will fly off the menu.

HungryMom’s wild salmon ($16) was just as good. Fork-tender and soft in the center, the salmon was excellent, perked up by a horseradish-spiked sauce, a bed of shredded cabbage and a ring of sweet Riesling-infused foam. Declaring the food in front of her “the best piece of salmon I’ve had,’ HungryMom could barely contain herself and practically licked the plate.

But perhaps the biggest surprise about the Modern are its desserts. Not only are they excellent, but they are by no small margin the most generously portioned dishes the restaurant serves. And at between $8 and $12, desserts are also 30-50 percent less expensive than most of the other food. This adds up to a preferred strategy for the hungry, culinarily curious and short of funds: instead of having three plates as recommended, order two plates and a dessert. Serious chocolate fiends are advised not to miss the Modern Chocolate Tart ($10), a chocolate shell filled with silky chocolate mousse and topped with a roof of crispy dark chocolate. A spoonful of this together with the accompanying vanilla ice cream is a sexy and sinful way to end the meal. But even this concoction could not compete with the Modern’s New Orleans-style beignets ($10), sweet, chewy puffs of air shaped into bow ties and nestled deep in a cloth napkin to keep to keep them warm as long as possible. There’s no danger of these beignets getting cold, however; most every table we saw ordered them, quickly tearing them apart and dunking them in one (or all) of the three dips provided: an ambrosian, hot caramel sauce, cold maple ice cream, and a tangy mango marmalade.

Crowd pleasing touches like the beignets are why the Bar Room at the Modern succeeds two years on from its opening. The menu may be a tad confusing, but its breadth of choice and the restaurant’s sparkling atmosphere generally add up to something more than a likeable whole. Like the museum in which it resides, the Modern’s food seeks originality and expert execution; that not every dish reaches these heights should not be considered a fault - the Modern wins points for its sheer exuberance.

Bar Room at the Modern, 9 West 53rd Street, between Fifth and Sixth Avenues. (212) 333-1220