UPDATEFORT WORTH – I don't mean to incite discord between the cities, but Dallasites need to hatch a scheme to lure chef Lanny Lancarte II away from Fort Worth.

REX C. CURRY/Special Contributor

Duck terrine with apple gastrique

At his 2 ½ -year-old restaurant, Lanny's Alta Cocina Mexicana, Mr. Lancarte serves individualistic food that merges energetic New American cooking with the cuisine of Mexico's upper cultural echelons. It's a compelling perspective that the Dallas dining scene lacks. I could see this restaurant becoming a heavily patronized neighborhood mainstay in Uptown, or maybe Lakewood.

It's probably a futile hope. As part of the long-established family that runs the famous Joe T. Garcia's in the Stockyards, Mr. Lancarte seems firmly ensconced in Cowtown. But the memory of my first meal at Lanny's last July still makes me want to organize petitions.

Two of us walked into the restaurant and found the third member of our party sitting at the tiny bar, sipping a signature pomegranate margarita served in a cone-shaped glass. She set the glass down in a round vessel filled with ice to keep the drink chilled. Nice touch.

Nearby, an undulant floral arrangement featured blooming birds of paradise that made the reasoning behind that flower's name abundantly clear: They squawked color with their plumes of red and gold and orange. It created an invigorating counterpoint to the calming beige tones that dominate this converted, modernist cottage.

When fine-dining restaurants hit their stride, they develop a rhythm that envelops guests in their cadence. Such is the case at Lanny's: The servers have a groove that doesn't get ruffled if you ask for help with the sprawling wine list or tequila selection, or if you ask lots of questions about the intriguing menu.

At the end of that first meal, we bemoaned the fact that the kitchen didn't have any more raspberry goat cheese cake available for dessert. Without missing a beat, our server approached a large table of customers who had all ordered the nightly changing five-course tasting menu, of which the goat cheese cake was the designated finale. She asked them if perhaps someone would instead care instead for tres leches crème brûlée. Voilà, we had our cake.

It was the crowning flourish to an evening that yielded one moment of culinary razzmatazz after another. It had started with the foie gras chile relleno. How cool an idea: The liver was stuffed inside a reconstituted dried ancho chile, whose subtly sweet and fruity nuances reminded us, in a fresh way, why those flavors are so often paired with foie. Underneath the chile was a purée of appaloosa beans scented with chipotle pepper. Who knew beans could be so sensual?

One tablemate swooned over quail medallions in an aromatic Parmesan and cilantro broth. Little wonder: Luxurious morel mushrooms were nestled among the dense tubes of boneless meat. In the next seat over, my friend was lost in a bowl of onion soup with Mexican overtones. The onions had been caramelized in piloncillo (the hard, unrefined brown sugar you often find sold in conical shapes in Mexican groceries), and a deliciously salty slab of queso panela bobbed on top.

After subsequent visits, I saw that Mr. Lancarte latches on to favorite ingredients but varies their usage or accompaniments to flow with the seasons. Tiny leaves of brussels sprouts showed up unexpectedly in an otherwise summery starter of lobster ravioli. Adding them sparingly, though, didn't overpower the lobster, specks of jalapeño or foie gras butter that so seductively enriched the pasta.

Those same uncoiled brussels sprout leaves are offered on the current menu in a wintry cruciferous duo with cauliflower purée, both of which accompany a powerhouse veal chop.

But back to the subject of pasta: Nowhere does the kitchen more impressively use its noodles than in the signature dish of sea bass over homemade angel-hair with mojo de ajo. Granted, it isn't a visual stunner. The kinky angel hair arrives tossed in a glossy sauce that verges on appearing oily. Ah, but pick up a forkful: That red-tinged gloss packs a sultry thump of guajillo chiles and garlic. And the noodles are al dente. And the snowy fish flakes into this whole business and it all tastes so undeniably right together.

That sea bass preparation has rotated on and off the menu since the restaurant opened. Have to say, I tried a sea bass variation recently with Dijon spaetzle, Belgian endive and mole made smooth with butternut squash that sounds spectacular but didn't ultimately dazzle in the same way. It was almost too busy. Hope that house-made angel hair returns soon.

I had a reverse experience with Mr. Lancarte's tamales: In the summer, his variation with sweet corn and huitlacoche (the fungus, also known as corn smut, that rose to popularity in the '90s) required another layer of seasoning to make it sing. But his winter menu includes tamales made with buttery lobster and served with a dense, silky roasted red pepper sauce. Bingo.

The improbable combination of lobster and roasted red peppers in tamales also illustrates what is most admirable about Mr. Lancarte as a chef. Not only does he eschew constricting boundaries, but he does so with intelligent restraint, and to his own inner tune. He seems to refuse to be frozen by anyone's idea of upscale Mexican cuisine.

His creations may be classics (he's currently serving a beautiful shrimp pozole) or he may buck tradition, as he does with the foie gras relleno. Dishes may philosophically nod to Mexico (a date-crusted steak in the summer recalled the Mexican high cuisine preference toward mixing sweet and savory ingredients) or may brazenly break new ground, as with an odd but wondrous appetizer of halibut medallions paired with mole-braised oxtail.

Sometimes, in such cases as the veal chop entree, it doesn't seem Mexican at all.

Collectively, this can't-pin-me-down aesthetic makes for vital dining – the kind I'd return to as frequently as my bank account allowed, if only Lanny's were a tad closer. Guess it's time to organize a foodie carpool.Lanny's Alta

Cocina Mexicana

{star}{star}{star}{star} (excellent)

Food {star}{star}{star}{star}

Service {star}{star}{star}{star}

Atmosphere {star}{star}{star}

Price: $$$$ (appetizers $8 to $14, entrees $28 to $44, desserts $8 to $10)

Address: 3405 W. Seventh St., Fort Worth

Phone: 817-850-9996

Web site: www.lannyskitchen.com

Hours: Lunch Tuesday-Friday 11:30 a.m. to

2 p.m.; dinner Tuesday-Thursday 5:30 to 10 p.m., Friday-Saturday 5:30 to 10:30 p.m.

Credit cards: All major

Wheelchair accessible: Yes

Smoking area: Patio

Alcohol: Full bar