Rich Reeve has reconfigured the menu at 23 Broadway to focus on tapas.

The origin of tapas, the diminutive plates of food that are a Spanish institution, is veiled in legend and tall tales. The predominant founding tapas myth is that small dishes (tapa means "lid" or "cover" in Spanish) were placed over wineglasses to keep the flies out; tidbits of food were then placed on top. Another story tells of a Spanish king that suffered from a stomach ailment that allowed him to digest only tiny portions. A final unlikely tale claims that the army invented the tradition of eating tapas in bars to keep soldiers from getting too drunk on their nights on the town.

This much is known: tapas came out of southern winemaking region of Andalusia, where it is customary to be given a small dish of food, basically just a nibble, when buying an alcoholic beverage. In some bars, the pairing of drink and tapa by the server is considered an art in its own right. (As Alicia Rios notes in The Heritage of Spanish Cooking, the marriage of alcohol and food is paramount: "The drink stimulates the appetite and aids digestion, and the food palliates the ethylic effects of the drink. The combination of these factors results in a perfect balance.")

Now throughout Spain, from Barcelona to Bilbao, tapas bars are commonplace, and they are beginning to catch on in a big way in the US. Locally, both Richard Erickson of the Blue Mountain Bistro and Ric Orlando of New World Home Cooking have offered takes on tapas in recent years. (Even Mr. Italian Cuisine himself, "Molto" Mario Batali, opened two tapas bars in Manhattan, Casa Mono and Bar Jamon, in 2003.) Tapas have evolved from humble bar snacks to a mini-cuisine with a culture and etiquette of their own. Tapas bars sometimes offer dozens of selections to choose from. Traditional dishes include cured meats; patatas bravas ("fierce potatoes"—potato wedges coated in spicy sauce made from tomatoes and chili peppers); cheeses, especially Manchego, a mild sheep's milk cheese with a slightly nutty flavor; small fried or marinated fish; olives; and the tortilla española, or Spanish omelet, served at room temperature.

A typical tapas plate at 23 Broadway—duck liver mousse, manchego and arugula wrapped in spanish ham, artichoke fritters, grilled shrimp.

When Susan and Dennis Cooper, original owners of River Station in Poughkeepsie, bought the building housing the former Sturgeon Wine Bar in 2002, the decrepit storefront space in Kingston's Rondout district was in sorry shape. The bar was falling down; the toilet in the ladies' room had sunken through the floor. After extensive renovations, 23 Broadway opened in May 2003. The 50-seat restaurant was gorgeous—the copper gleamed, the dark stain of the woodwork reflected a whiskey glow in candlelight, and the exposed brick exuded Kingston's industrial past.

And the food was good. I ate at 23 Broadway a few times that first year and I was never disappointed; but I was never impressed either. The dishes were of the New American cuisine variety, the culinary staples you find in two dozen or so "fine, upscale dining" establishments across the Hudson Valley. Every hamlet and village now seems to have a restaurant of this type, where CIA graduates are churning out perfectly fine versions of filet mignon, turbot, and sweet potato ravioli tricked out with some ingenious side dish or garnish. Red lentil purée! Pickled Japanese vegetables! At the time, I wondered how long 23 Broadway would last, another good restaurant in a region of good restaurants.

Close-up grilled shrimp.

When Rich Reeve became executive chef at 23 Broadway in June of last year, the first thing he noticed was how much the dining room reminded him of a tapas bar. Reeve had never been to Spain, but he had seen many pictures of the dark-wooded Spanish eateries of Madrid and Seville, and thought the space had a tapas-bar feel. Since taking over the creative direction of the kitchen at 23 Broadway, Reeve has piloted a course straight for the Iberian peninsula.

I did not know that the chef had changed the first time I tried Reeve's food earlier this year. We started out ordering just a few tapas off the menu—chorizo, mixed olives and peppers, patatas bravas; there is a choice of any three of the 20 tapas dishes for $10.95. The food was stunning. By the time we left, many hours and a number of bottles of Rioja later (caveat emptor: the list is lopsided in favor of France and California wines, with only three Spanish reds), my party had tried all the tapas and the cheese plate, featuring inspired pairings of cheeses and accompanying sauces, like Manchego drizzled with romesco, and Ouray (from Poughkeepsie's Sprout Creek Farm) with cranberry relish. (The cheese plate is sadly no longer on the menu; the Chef's Sampler of olives, cheeses, and cured meats for $15.95 is a good substitute.)

Reeve's menu features a good deal of traditional tapas—boquerones (marinated white anchovies), crispy pork shank, Manchego and arugula wrapped with Spanish ham, grilled shrimp in romesco sauce, roasted piquillo peppers with Coach Farm goat cheese, Cabralas (Spanish blue cheese) with pear, duck liver mousse with black fig jam, lightly fried artichoke fritters in blood orange aioli. But his inventive, fusion-oriented dishes are best. The Scandanavian-inspired sugar cured duck breast was cut thin and melted in the mouth. The crab and corn cake, lightly fried with chipotle aioli, is a bit of Maryland meets New Mexico. Our favorites are the crispy pork shank mentioned above and the Argentinean-inspired grilled and chilled steak with habañero-honey sauce.

Plates on their way out of the kitchen.

I've neglected to mention that tapas is only half the menu at 23 Broadway. The restaurant also serves Reeve's version of comfort food; a bunch of bistro dishes—duck confit, grilled tuna sandwich, a signature burger, a New York deli-style pastrami sandwich; as well as a variety of New American-style entrees, from pan-roasted duck breast to wild boar ragu to filet mignon to a knockout mac and cheese with truffle oil.

Is tapas too weird to survive in downtown Kingston? Will 23 Broadway have to retrench in six months or a year and bring its menu fully in line with conventional expectations? I sincerely hope not, but with almost half the menu devoted to tapas, Reeve is putting himself out on a creative limb and he knows it. "You've got to find that balance between what you want to do creatively and what's going to sell," says Reeve. "Because if your food doesn't sell, you're not going to be creative for long."