Stone Ballon Winehouse in Newark

The Winehouse evokes a rustic Tuscan setting with an urban sophistication. The soft, sexy lighting, especially in the evening, flatters; seats are sumptuous, and the bar inviting. (Credit: Heather L. Rohan)

Forget all that you knew and kind of, sort of, remember about the Stone Balloon.

The brain cell-killing, boozy nights and eardrum thumping rock bands. The aroma of sweat, stale beer and sometimes barf. The sticky floors and those stinky restrooms.

All are gone, long gone. You have to grow up sometime (sigh) and the Balloon has done just that. The legendary Newark nightclub was demolished in 2006 to make room for condos, a wine store and a fine-dining restaurant.

The new Balloon, now known by its adult name, the Stone Balloon Winehouse, isn't the same place where sloshy UD students once engaged in rip-roaring acts of public drunkenness.

If you want to relive Mug Night glory days now, do so through hazy memories or "remember when" war stories. Though, and this seems contradictory for a place cleaning up its image, you can buy a $15 glass Stone Balloon mug at the restaurant and have it refilled with Bloody Marys and Mimosas for $1 on Sundays. At least -- and this may depend on your age and pocketbook -- it's better than the Pabst Blue Ribbon of old.

Yet, if still you're looking for a glimpse of the past, here's what remains: The taproom license is in place, and you must be 21 years and older to enter. Oh, and the brick archway separating the bar and the rear dining room is made with the very same stone that graced the front of the former Balloon. That's about it.

Walk inside in the Main Street restaurant and you'll forget you're in a college town. (Students may be scarce due to dinner prices ranging from $17 to $33.) With its high ceilings and wooden floors, the Winehouse evokes a rustic Tuscan setting, but with an urban sophistication and maturity that the old Balloon never imagined. The soft, sexy lighting, especially in the evening, flatters; seats are sumptuous, the bar inviting -- and it smells good.

The change is so dramatic, it's like seeing the stoner guy from your old college dorm suddenly sporting cologne and a spiffy three-piece suit. (Wow, dude, you clean up well.)

But there's one slight problem -- the gorgeous space occasionally promises more than the kitchen delivers. That is not to say you'll have a bad meal, it was just that dishes we tried were either punctuated by extreme highs or disappointing lows. It's nothing that a few adjustments here and there can't correct.

Executive chef Jason Dietterick, formerly of Rehoboth Beach's Nage restaurant, is obviously a talented cook who has put together an ambitious menu of small and large plates featuring quail, foie gras, homemade duck ham and pates.

He peppers his specials with everything from rabbit to wild boar, and Dietterick knows how to combine flavors in attention-worthy ways. And plate presentation is one of his strengths

Our server told us the first courses were "really small," which was not entirely accurate. There was more than enough for two to share. Seared day scallops ($16) are a terrific duo of fresh-tasting shellfish nestled on a bed of earthy, truffle-scented and toothsome risotto accompanied by airy, foamy parmesan emulsion.

Another winner was Dietterick's excellent quail under the brick ($12), meaty, flattened little birds -- think of them as the frou-frou version of chicken wings -- nesting on a bed of frisee tossed with crunchy lardons and a side of pickled onion jam.

We were told that the spiced grilled deckle steak ($8) was "like butter," which isn't how I would describe these underseasoned slices of chewy, rare, marbled meat. (The deckle cut is the strip of muscle and fat that lies on top of the rib, according to the National Cattlemen's Beef Association.)

Even though the menu said the beef was spiced, we couldn't taste any flavoring and were confused by the little pile of pepper and salt on the plate. (Do you dip pieces in the seasonings do-it-yourself style? No explanation was given.) While the meat lacked seasoning, the remoulade kohlrabi, a turnipy type of cabbage, was so aggressively peppery that it was throat burning and, for my dining companion, unpalatable.

The dish that I most looked forward to, the Virginia soft shell crab ($14), was the one I liked least. The crab deserved a better send-off than being dipped in a batter that tasted overwhelmingly of cornmeal and not much else, and then overcooked. We gave up on the crab after a few bites and concentrated on the very fine bed of cream corn sauce flecked with spring peas, edamame and tarragon.

The fat, rich lobe of foie gras ($15) is classically paired with pain perdu -- the fancy word for French toast -- and fruity elements, including compote, honey, and lavender honey foam. (Hmmm, someone here is enamored with foam.)

Seared duck ($22), paired with parsnip puree, roasted salsify and a pinot noir reduction was one of the standout dishes of the evening.

The Stone Balloon's wine cellar is varied, with depth. You can sample 2- and 5-ounce glasses, including El Coto rose, from Spain ($2 or $6), Italy's Col d'Orcia Brunello di Montalcino ($7 or $18), and Trimbach Riesling, from Alsace ($4 or $8).

Instead of a sweet ending, we decided to sample two of the more than dozen cheeses offered. Two fail-safe fromages include Bayley Hazen blue ($5), an dry Vermont cheese made with raw cow's milk, and a soft, creamy hunk of Robiola Bosina ($5), which combines both cow's and goat's milk.

The last time I saw this much cheese at the Balloon was watching tennis player John McEnroe play out his rock star fantasies on the old bar stage. But that was then, and this is now. And memories like that are best left in the past.