RESTAURANTS; Rustic Italian, Breathlessly Translated
By William Grimes

The concrete floor and the brushed-aluminum chairs send off warning signals. Is Peasant, despite the name, going to be an exercise in deprivation chic? The whitewashed brick walls and bare wood tables don't offer much hope. But closer inspection suggests that all is not as it seems. At the far end of the room, a brick pizza oven radiates heat. On a counter in front of the open kitchen, apricots, tomatoes and grapes have been massed in abundant display.
Even the forbidding industrial chairs spring a surprise. They are form-fitting and inexplicably comfortable. The black-clad waiters turn out to be Jimmy Olsens in disguise, full of gee-whiz enthusiasm and can-do optimism. Peasant may be cool, but it's not cold.
In the 15 months since it opened, Peasant has built a following by sticking to some very simple premises. Keep the food simple, rustic and Italian. Cook it over a wood fire. Serve abundant portions. Be nice. That's about it.
When the formula works, Peasant sends out highly satisfying food, fresh and flavorful, with the rich tanginess that wood smoke imparts. Four big Mediterranean sardines, done to a crisp and drizzled with a little lemon and oil, manage to stay perfectly moist inside their crackling skins. They are flawless. This may not sound like much of an achievement, but after chewing my way through several schools of desiccated, flavorless grilled sardines all over the city, I knew that these prize specimens were heaven-sent.
Panzanella is a warm-weather addition to the menu, a traditional bread salad that's a plumped-out, heartier cousin of Spain's gazpacho. Too much vinegar, and the wrong kind, can turn it into a palate scorcher. Peasant's is just right, a generous plate of chewy bread cubes, red onion and cerignola olives, with a subtle application of balsamic vinegar for roundness and sweetness.
The buffalo mozzarella at Peasant could be better. It lacks the properly frappéed texture and fresh sourness that can make buffalo mozzarella seem, for a brief moment at least, the best cheese on earth. The good news is that it comes with strips of wood-roasted red pepper oozing thick, smoky juices. The small mozzarella balls known as bocconcini become Italian canapés after being wrapped in prosciutto, dusted in bread crumbs and baked. Somehow, cooking bleeds every bit of salt and savor from the prosciutto. You're left with a bland white cheese ball in a tasteless brown wrapper.
Burning wood can be a force for good or evil. It adds a sublime crunch to the excellent crust of Peasant's little pizzas. (The most appealing of the three versions, topped with pepe roncini and soppressata, is fiery enough to require a stern warning from the waiter.) Bushy sprigs of rosemary release a thick, heady perfume that mingles with wood smoke and permeates the firm flesh of orata, or sea bream, so that each bite seems to release a small cloud of fragrant steam. Skate does not fare as well. Its delicate scalloplike flavor dissipates, and a too-robust caper sauce buries the fish entirely. Cuttlefish, cooked in small terra-cotta vessels, might as well be pressed tofu.
Meat is another story. Leg of lamb, slow-cooked on the rotisserie, is sliced off in neat rounds, served on top of creamy polenta and garnished, if that's the word, with an enormous head of bitter radicchio di Treviso grilled to a state of juicy limpness. If this be peasant fare, don't tell the royals. The flavors here are potent and lingering.
The pasta at Peasant, like the mozzarella, is good, not great. Properly firm risotto, dotted with peas, shrimp bits and cherry tomatoes, pleases well enough, but the impression is marred by the mealy Sicilian shrimp, split in half and grilled, that surrounds it like a dragon guarding a treasure hoard. Gnocchi with morels is more like it: earthy, rich and -- there's no other way to put it -- peasantlike.
The untranslated menu encourages much back-and-forth with the waiters, who, like ''A'' students, seem happiest explaining what you get when you order, say, insalata acciuga e fagiolini. The all-Italian wine list, although not terribly long, seems to pose more of a puzzle. I had questions about this Sardinian and that Sicilian. They remained unanswered. If you take the trouble to put together a list of regional wines, several of them off the beaten track, it helps if the waiters can say something a little more enlightening than, ''That's my favorite.''
The desserts include a few surprises, some of them unpleasant. An enormous bowl of fresh fruit and sorbets, enough for an entire table, turns out to be a cruel joke. The fruit looks spectacular, but someone made off with the flavor. The low point one evening was a mushy apricot that could be identified only by color. The ricotta cheesecake is respectable, although not as good as the pistachio gelato by its side. Vanilla-soaked bread pudding, an imposing cube of unctuousity accompanied by a caramel-swathed scoop of white chocolate gelato, relegates the cheesecake to also-ran status. Best of all is a heroically proportioned peach pie with a rough lattice crust, its opulent fruit flavor coaxed out by the magic heat of burning wood.
The espresso at Peasant cannot pass without comment. Both weak and bitter at the same time, it may be the worst I've ever tasted. In a city awash in bad espresso, this is no mean feat. Try making it over a wood fire. It couldn't hurt.

Peasant
*
[Rating: one star]
194 Elizabeth Street (between Prince and Spring Streets); (212) 965-9511.
ATMOSPHERE: Rustic Italian food cooked over wood, served in a spare, cool room with exposed brick walls.
SOUND LEVEL: Not too loud.
RECOMMENDED DISHES: Sardines; panzanella with tomatoes, onion and olives; buffalo mozzarella with roasted peppers; pizza with peperoncini and soppressata; grilled sea bream; rotisserie lamb with polenta and radicchio; peach pie; bread pudding.
SERVICE: Eager, friendly and often awkward.
WINE LIST: Fifty Italian wines, half of them $40 or under, with an emphasis on lesser-known regions like Calabria, Emilia-Romagna and Puglia.
PRICE RANGE: Dinner, appetizers, $8 to $12; entrees, $19 to $24; desserts, $8.
HOURS: Dinner, Tuesday through Saturday, 6 p.m. to midnight; Sunday, 6 to 10.
CREDIT CARDS: All major cards.
WHEELCHAIR ACCESS: No steps into restaurant; restrooms on dining room level.