Seafood linguine is flavored with an Asian-style shrimp vinaigrette at the Candy Store & Grille at the Clarke Cooke House in Newport.

THE PROVIDENCE JOURNAL / Sandor Bodo Sandor Bodo

NEWPORT There may be nothing more relaxing on a warm summer night in the bustling City by the Sea than sitting in the second-floor dining room of The Candy Store & Grille at the Clarke Cooke House on Bannister’s Wharf, as harbor breezes drift in through the big, open windows.

It’s fitting that the place’s logo is a double-tailed mermaid with outstretched, welcoming arms. The Candy Store is a casual, friendly kind of place, complete with chatty bartender, well-poured drinks and really, really good food. On a warm summery evening that already promised a full moon ahead, we chose this setting rather than the more formal upstairs dining room, called The Porch, where the menu seemed not as light and the prices were much higher.

The Candy Store is on the first floor, or “wharf level.” In 1780, Clarke Cooke, a well-to-do Newport merchant, had the house built on Thames Street, not far from where it now stands on a lot opposite what is now the Blues Cafe. Nearly two centuries later, David W. Ray bought the house and had it moved in 1973 to its present location on Bannister’s Wharf.

“It took six months to move,” said Ray in a follow-up phone call. “Only the second and third floors are original,” he added. Cooke had moved out as Thames Street grew too commercial for his tastes and, over the centuries, the first floor underwent a variety of changes. So the top floors were jacked up, moved and set on a new foundation, which is now the wharf level dining area.

In its new incarnation as a restaurant, said Ray, the Clarke Cooke House was a huge success from the very first, so much so that a couple of years later he bought all of Bannister’s Wharf.

With its long bar, small tables and wicker chairs, the first-floor dining room of The Candy Store is an airy place. But we chose to sit in the not-quite-as-crowded, slightly more formal second-floor dining room, which is called The Grille but has the same Candy Store menu. Here, the chairs are covered in brown leather with brass hobnail fittings; there’s a massive fireplace big enough to roast an entire pig.

Photos from Ray’s collection of America’s Cup challengers and their crews fill the walls. The prints are not simply decoration. During the heady days of the America’s Cup races off Newport during the late ’70s and early ’80s, The Candy Store was the prime watering hole and gathering place for more than one boat crew, hangers on and wannabes. At least one of the photos is signed by the crew. A couple of carefully crafted boat models also hang on the walls, which are painted nautical white with polished bare wood accents. With its plank floors, beamed ceilings and distressed-to-the- extreme support posts, you might fancy yourself in the hold of a sailing ship. The Grille, at least the night we were there, is quieter and less hurried than the downstairs dining room. If you manage to snare a seat next to one of the open windows, you’ll have a ringside seat to the bustle below on Bannister’s Wharf as passersby go between stores, bars or boats at anchor. The setting sun cast an orange-yellow glow through the open windows when we arrived. Photographers call this time of day magic time and it surely seemed so.

We started with martini cocktails that have become popular at so many restaurants. We asked our cheerful waitress if anyone had ever ordered “The Donald,” which has a $300 price tag what with its prime ingredient of Remy Martin Louis XIII, but she couldn’t recall a single one.

We settled on the more affordable — $9.50 each — Flirtini and The 5-0, both true to the rule that new-fangled martinis must be given cutesy names. The Flirtini was a tangy mix of vodka, Chambord, pineapple and champagne. The 5-0, a mix of Stoli Razberi, Triple Sec and fresh raspberries (2), was strong — a lot stronger than I’d expected. A better name might have been the KO, for a couple of these and one could be knocked out. The berries notwithstanding, it was clear and not the pinkish color I’d expected. And not at all sweet, despite the two raspberries floating in it. They offered only a hint of their flavor.

I’d never seen more clams in a cup of clam chowder ($5) than the one served at The Candy Store. No floury additions to the chowder here. Just a bonanza of clams, all of them very tender, and a sprinkling of diced potatoes in a milky broth flavored lightly with dill that was very buttery, but not overwhelmingly so. A common cracker was at the side of the cup, ready for dunking.

My friend’s gazpacho ($5) was a refreshingly cold medley of vegetables — onion, cucumber, celery among them — in a hearty, surprisingly sweet but very tasty tomato base.

One reason we were eager to try The Candy Store’s menu was because of some intriguing items from chef Bryan Waugh that we’d found on its Web site, especially the crispy Vietnamese-style crepes, a dish that combined both the Asian and French influences in Vietnam. No disappointment here. The crepes ($9.95) were indeed crispy, topped by three sautéed large tail-on shrimps and more than a hint of the tropics with its blend of cilantro, mint and bean sprouts in a spicy (but not too spicy) rice wine vinaigrette.

We also tried The Candy Store’s version of a longtime favorite — calamari fritti ($10.95). Although there were many large squid rings in the generous, lightly battered serving, they were crispy, tender and not chewy at all, thanks no doubt to the fact that they hadn’t been left too long in the Fryolator. Best of all, from my standpoint anyway, was the great number of squid tentacles on the plate. Considering their enormous size, they were surprisingly tender, not rubbery at all. Dipped in a thick and hearty marinara sauce, they were superb, accompanied by crunchy and salty capers which had been fried as well, another plus.

At first, my dining companion heard the lobster roll ($21.95, including hand-cut fries) calling. But on second thought, that seemed more of a lunch-time treat. There was a brief flirtation with the flat-iron steak daily special, but our informative waitress didn’t seem enthused about that choice. Instead, her seal of approval went to the steak frites ($36.95). This proved to be a real find, even though it was one of the most expensive items on The Candy Store menu, where most entrees are in the $19.95 to $25.95 range.

The thick 12-ounce sirloin had been grilled to the perfect pink-center medium that had been ordered. It arrived with a slab of well-seasoned maitre d’hotel butter on top. Extraordinarily moist and tender, the sirloin was exceptional. The steamed vegetables — mostly yellow and green squash — made a fine accompaniment. The frites — hand-cut French fries — were delicious, although more limp than crisp.

For me it was a tossup between the seafood linguine ($22.95) and the sautéed filet of halibut ($25.95), which intrigued because the fish was served in a crispy potato shell. The seafood linguine won out, however, because this wasn’t the usual seafood-in-a-clam-sauce dish. Instead, it featured a delicious Asian-style shrimp vinaigrette that turned out to be on the sweet side and not at all vinegary. Besides plump and very tender scallops, good-sized slices of shrimp and three large littlenecks in the shell, there were sliced shiitake mushrooms, shredded scallions and a scattering of sesame seeds, all atop a mound of al dente linguine. It was a dish I’d definitely order again.

For dessert — and they’re all made in house — who could resist something called Snowball in Hell? Not my chocolate-loving dining companion, at any rate. Thin, fudgy chocolate cake was slathered with chocolate mousse filling, then rolled up in pinwheel fashion like a jelly roll and set inside a goblet that itself had been coated with a thin layer of chocolate ($6.95). Topped by vanilla ice cream sprinkled with coconut, it truly was sinfully yummy.

My Clarke Cooke Coupe Glacee Exotique ($5.95) was well named. It was served in a martini glass that had been filled with summer and tropical fruits — mangoes, strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, pineapple — topped with a refreshingly citrusy sorbet and passionfruit coulis. It was the perfect light-touch end to a perfectly wonderful meal.

mjanuson@projo.com