The salmon was fantastic. The fillet's texture was buttery, and each bite released a parade of flavors that blended harmoniously, from the pang of vinegar to the gentle heat of cinnamon. The pork was similarly spectacular: fork-tender slices of succulent, ginger-marinated meat braised in a mellow coconut milk-laced vindaloo. Subtle, elegant and utterly marvelous.

At Om Restaurant in downtown Minneapolis, consulting chef Raghavan Iyer says his menu isn't fusion, but it can occasionally taste that way. That salmon isn't native to India, but its seasonings evoke traditions of the region's Konkan Coast. But who cares about semantics? The menu is Iyer's edible travelogue through his native country, a contemporized greatest hits of the culinary polyglot that is modern India.

The pork seasonings are intended to represent a crossover between the Hindus and Christians of Goa, the lamb is a nod to the nation's Islamic home kitchens, the lentil cakes are an homage to traditions in India's southeastern region. "I want to elevate the status of Indian cooking from the buffet line," he told me. "If they decide to open the restaurant for lunch and ask me to do a lunch buffet, I am out of here."

The menu is big, but here's a tip: In the way that a supermarket's most browse-worthy aisles are on its perimeter, the dishes tucked along the menu's edges are often the most enticing. A sinus-clearing soup of stewed red bell peppers, chiles and green cardamom throbs with bold flavor and vibrant color. Okra, braised in tomatoes, is the best I've ever tasted. A magical salad of scorching red chile-roasted shrimp is cooled just slightly by a ginger/golden raisin vinaigrette.

I love the fragrant breads, served in paper cups with a side of blisteringly hot pickled mangoes. Golden flatbreads, brushed with clarified butter and twinkling with sea salt, have just the right fluffy pull. Iyer is a self-described "potato freak," which explains why the green chile-potato naan is the one to order. The griddled breads are equally impressive.

Om is an ambitious operation, so was it wrong of me to hope for more daring tastes? I'd love to see a greater variety of fish and seafood beyond scallops, shrimp, salmon and walleye. The vegetarian and poultry dishes are crying out for more pizazz, and most entrees are served with side dishes that feel like resigned nods to Minnesota tastes.

Margaret Andrews, Star Tribune
A dramatic, open staircase in the drab basement-level dining area,

A number of the starters, including crisp phyllo cups filled with a tasty combination of potatoes and mint, terrific crackers topped with sweet and tart chutneys, could have been plucked off a cater waiter's party tray. With the exception of berries blended with cardamom-scented yogurt, the desserts are fine but nothing terribly out of the ordinary. Consistency is an issue as well; dishes that sang one night fell a little flat the next.

Hurrah to Om for pumping new life into the former home of Nate's Clothing. Still, the transformation is a flubbed opportunity. Below-grade dining rooms tanked at Porter & Frye and Chambers Kitchen, and the format doesn't work at Om, either, despite a dramatic, wide-open staircase and peekaboo cuts in the ceiling that inject sound and light from the floor above. Remove those bells and whistles and what's left is a vast, gloomy, generically decorated basement. The main-floor lounge injects a more appealing jewel-tone color palette, but it unfortunately shares the dining room's low-budget aura.

Little about Om's surroundings telegraph "upscale" or "contemporary" (or, frankly, "comfortable"). Iyer's ideas deserve better.