Aquitaine   

Aquitaine rode in on the crest of the bistro-and-brasserie tsunami that hit Boston in the '90s, importing contemporary Parisian cuisine to the rapidly gentrifying South End. For locals accustomed to the intimacy of Seth Woods' previous venture (Metropolis, a cozy neighborhood cafe that still resides across the street), Aquitaine seemed like a different species -- a "destination" restaurant thronged with beautiful strangers and Gallic gourmets. Though its theme happened to converge with the current zeitgeist, its star has survived the eclipse of that particular trend to become a culinary cornerstone of sorts. Its initial success hinged on the element of surprise, awing patrons with a foie gras here and a truffle there, but its longevity is owed to its status as a known quantity -- a place where the frites are always fab and the mussels come marinated in Sancerre. Equally alluring is the sleek slate and mahogany decor, which continues to draw an even sleeker, more stylish clientele. This is Boston's answer to New York's Balthazar: a place to see, be seen and sip champagne cocktails within view of the passing crowd on Tremont Street. After basking at the bar near the floor-to-ceiling windows, you can install yourself in a leather booth and observe the procession of amuses bouches emerging from the open kitchen.