Screen Door injects contemporary verve into frumpy, sticky, gooey (but always comfy) Southern cookery. What in pig hock heaven does this mean? It means posting seared foie gras in a setting of stone-ground grits in cane syrup and blackberries, for instance, or in a Southern Comfort reduction in another rendition. Doggone good on both counts. Or perhaps shrimp on grits in spicy Creole sauce. Plus fried green tomatoes. In the strictly verve vein, have you some seared buffalo carpaccio or barbecued marrow bones in sweet onion jam. Yet sometimes it’s the sides that heighten the deft charm on the marquee entrants: warm potato with andouille sausage and blue cheese salad is coupled with the smoked and grilled Angus rib eye.

This fusion, this collision, this merging mash of phat style with a below-the-Mason-Dixon-line drawl is captured in the vibe. Muted tones turn bright in ample window acreage that pulls in gobs of sunlight. Slink into one of Screen Door’s plush high-backed upholstered chairs in the dining room or grab a cozy wooden seat on the patio and watch the splish-splash of the One Arts Plaza fountain.

Or ponder the wrought-iron knotty-branch chandeliers over the sleek contemporary striped banquettes next to ruffled composite plastic dividers embedded with seaweed. (Huh?) On second thought, forget all of this culture mongrel nonsense and have a stiff mint julep at the bar, assembled with chic conventionality.