Restaurant or bar? Tonic has an identity crisis

How could it not be a bar?

The very name, Tonic, conjures fountains of liquid refreshment, breathy libations frothy with lime bubbles and fizz.

Ah, but I review restaurants. Although it has a full dinner menu, Tonic doesn't feel like a place where food is the first priority.

Colored lights glint off bottles behind the long bar. There are flat-screen televisions and a raised, oddly stage-like seating area in the tall windows that face Fourth Street, a place to be seen. The club vibe is strong. I expected to get my ID checked and my hand stamped as I walked in, my hair blown back by the thump of bass.

Dinnertime at Tonic is slow, with only a few tables of people who wanted to make a meal here. Clearly -- I hope for the sake of their business -- the action happens later in the night.

So for us squares who want food, what do we eat? My advice is to lean your non-liquid selections toward the appetizer portion of the menu. Some are good enough to make a meal, especially if you're like me and enjoy small bites of many things. If you're looking for a full-fledged dinner, head elsewhere.

Further advice? Cheese fries and chili can get old. How about a cocktail-hour nibble of tender tuna tartare? Here, it's lashed with Asian flavors of cucumber, soy, wasabi and citrus, and served with delicate wonton chips. They taste like a lighter, more delicious version of those oily noodles that you get with Chinese takeout. The addictive crispiness is there, though.

The crab cakes are lovely, two meaty ones; spicy remoulade-like sauce adds zip, and corn relish adds a sweet crunch.

Sliced chilies are a clever addition to a bowl of simply-cooked mussels, winey broth and tomatoes, the kicky heat licking the shellfish's flavors of salt and sea. I want to try this trick at home. Potato samosas are hot and satisfying, served with mint chutney, onion relish and a jammy tamarind sauce. It's so good when chased with a beer.

These don't come cheap, relatively speaking. You'll pay $10 for both the tartare and the mussels, two of my favorite things on the menu. It's worth mentioning that apps are half-price between 4:30 and 6:30 p.m.

Main courses are more hit and miss, like a nearly inedible halibut fillet. Tonic takes a regal fish and renders it tough, tired and old in an astringent and wan broth. "Butter-poached" was how it was described on the menu, and it sounded so good. Not to be.

Duck with ancho chile vinaigrette came sliced, paired with pear chutney and a sweet-potato cake, a mishmash of fall flavors that might have been OK had the meat not been so difficult to chew.

Old reliable bar food is a better bet -- a burger with blue cheese and bacon, a generous club with turkey, roast beef and bacon. I liked the house-salad combination of romaine, spinach, feta, pine nuts and red pepper. But only the tartare and the mussels make me want to become a barfly here.

Tonic's Fourth Street storefront used to house Speakeasy, a nightclub known for its live jazz music. Speakeasy closed in the fall of 2008, and Terry and Freddy Lee, restaurateurs who own Bernardin's and Bleu, opened Tonic earlier this year.

They've given the space a makeover. Paintings of swanky folks adorn the warm blue and copper walls, most elegantly, a woman in a black dress, her curvy back turned toward us. The front windows stretch toward the top of the Stevens Center across the street. Yet with the sleek televisions, the club vibe and list of desserty, chocolatey martinis -- creme brulee-tini, anyone? -- it's an incongruous mix. The stage, as I mentioned, remains, though with tables instead of mikes and musicians. It's less entertaining watching a group of giggly women down sweet cocktails than catching a band during Speakeasy's era.

Desserts are no longer on the menu, and perhaps that's a good thing. One evening was capped off with a long session of waiting. We waited for a waiter to check on us.

We lost patience before anyone offered us dessert, but in the end we had to go up to the bar to get our check.

Maybe the staff, too, are confused as to whether this is a bar that's also a restaurant, or a restaurant that's also a bar.