It became clear after my second meal that my halfhearted feelings toward Jew's food reflect my own prejudices — the prospect of eating grandiose food in downtempo settings holds a more potent appeal than dining on comfort food on an opera set. I don't know that I'd make a night of it at Bar Agricole again, but cocktails with a few farm-to-table snacks? Any night of the week. I'll warm to any grand gesture that leaves me garrulous and flushed. That'd be the effect of the decor, of course.