The spiel from your perky server goes something like this:

"Welcome to Shazz Cafe! We're a farm-to-table restaurant! Everything on our menu is local, except for the fish, which isn't local! Obviously! But it's local insomuch as we get it from small farms! And everything here is absolutely top quality!"

If you need more rhapsodic coaxing, the restaurant's Web site pours it on:

"Great food begins with great ingredients," says the preamble. "The majority of our ingredients are sourced from local, organic, sustainable farms. When we are forced to go outside Colorado for ingredients, we stick to the 'rule of 1,000,' which means we won't buy ingredients that come from more than one thousand miles away."

Following that announcement is a list of the restaurant's food suppliers. True to Shazz's proclamation that "none of our food comes from the 'Big 3' food distributors because we believe in supporting small local businesses 100 percent of the time, not when it's convenient," Nobel/Sysco is nowhere to be found.

I'm hip to that.

Instead, you'll get the 411 on the beef (it comes from River Ranches in Steamboat Springs), the poultry (Eastern Plains Natural Foods in Bennett), dairy (Wholesome Milk Products in Pueblo) and even the seeds and micro greens, which hail from Altan Alma Farms in Boulder. If you're curious about where your fish was netted, let it be known that Shazz uses "various suppliers to ensure that our seafood is always wild, fresh and as local as possible."

Blah, blah, blah.

I'm over it.

The farm-to-table concept is no longer cutting- edge. Restaurants in Denver, Boulder and the mountains have been embracing the locavore movement for quite a while (years, as a matter of fact), and while I appreciate (and wholeheartedly endorse) local food sourcing as much as the next person, I wish that Shazz would dispense with the pretense and amplified speeches and let the kitchen speak for itself.

Which it does, and that's a good thing because after all the hoopla, it could have been a complete disaster. But the shards of braised oxtail ($9), strewn with sage leaves and straddling a mound of creamy grits pungent with Asiago cheese, were irresistible, the meat so soft and tender that I passed it back across the table only with extreme reluctance.

The woodsy lentil soup ($8), floating nubs of crisp-edged pork belly, was even better, and the orecchiette ($9 half portion; $18 full portion), little ears of pasta swathed in a subtle white truffle sauce embellished with pancetta and hedgehog mushrooms, was lovely, too.

Executive chef Benny Kaplan cooks earthy, satisfying food absent (mostly) of flourishes and overwrought compositions. He shuffles between the kitchen and small dining room - painted deep ruby and covered with modern art and sculptures - briefly pausing at tables.

If he's feeling loquacious, he'll tell you that his biggest reward as a chef is having diners who work their way through the concise menu, a composition of small plates, soups and salads, pasta and entrees.

Given the chance, I would have told him that his roasted beet salad ($8) was exactly as I'd hoped: a rainbow of cubed beets in shades of garnet and gold heaped on a plate scattered with shavings of Ewephoria, a sheep's milk cheese that tastes just like it sounds. On the other hand, I would have admitted that his frisee salad ($8) was underwhelming, its poached duck egg overdone and hard, the curly leaves browning on the edges and the dressing too watery.

I might also have mouthed off about the ahi tuna ($26), pointing out that the three slabs of flesh with their rosy sheen were beautiful, but the menu's promise of a sear was nonexistent.

But the bone-in rib eye ($35), stained with sharp grill marks and requisitely charred in all the right places, was excellent, liberally salted and peppered and sided with cubed squash and mustard greens and a moist and savory bread pudding poked with wild mushrooms.

And the robust pork chop ($24), notwithstanding an unnecessary dollop of goat cheese peppered with sunflower seeds, was terrifically prepared, its belly stretching across a bright-hued bank of beet risotto and mustard-glazed red chard.

The rabbit ($28), served three ways (a grilled loin, confit of leg and a seared sausage patty), was a successful hop down the bunny trail, enhanced by a mound of wild rice slung with candied cranberries and seasonal root vegetables and a rich rabbit jus.

This is also a restaurant that revels in wine, and grape geeks will likely be enamored of the esoteric boutique roster that's both fairly priced and food- friendly. It's a list that challenges diners to take chances, and while the servers salute its merits, they have the fortitude not to go overboard.

Shazz Cafe & Bar

* Grade: B

* Address: 4262 Lowell Blvd.

* Hours: 5-10 p.m. Mon., Wed. and Thurs.; 5-11 p.m. Fri.-Sat.; 5-9 p.m. Sunday; closed Tuesday

* Food: Contemporary

* How much: $7-$11 starters, soups and salads; $18-$35 main dishes

* Reservations: Recommended on weekends

* Noise: Harsh when it's crowded

* Information: 303-477-1407; shazzdenver.com

* Parking: Parking lot in front of cafe

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