Review: Southern Rail glides beneath Mason-Dixon Line

• Critic%27s rating%3A 3.5 %28out of 5%29 stars%2C based on food%2C service%2C ambience.
• Chef Justin Beckett also operates Beckett%27s Table in Phoenix%27s Arcadia area.
• Wednesday%27s fried chicken is a destination dish at Southern Rail%2C at Camelback Road/Third Avenue.

You may not leave Southern Rail, Justin Beckett's 5-month-old Phoenix restaurant, drawling "y'alls" or whistling "Dixie." But the thought may cross your mind.

Beckett, who also operates Beckett's Table in Arcadia, has taken over part of the redeveloped space that for 40 mostly glorious years housed cavernous Beef Eaters restaurant, known for its armor-filled English setting and baronial rolling carts of prime rib. A bookstore and garden supply shop occupy the rest of the Camelback Road/Third Avenue complex, which is now called the Newton after Beef Eaters' owner Jay Newton.

Oddly, however, there's no design element that locates you south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Rather, you'll find familiar contemporary touches like the faux-weathered wood-plank ceiling, the community table and the glass panels that can be rolled up street side and behind the bar in good weather. When the light rail whizzes by just a few feet from your table, you can almost feel like you're in a big city.

Hope you like listening to oldies, which were piped in at low volume on each of my visits. Alas, no Southern voices like the Allman Brothers Band, Lynyrd Skynyrd or Georgia Satellites.

Beckett evidently prefers to let his cooking tell the Southern story. It's a story worth attending to.

Let's turn directly to the main dishes, because unlike appetizers and desserts, which are mostly wonderful, not everything in this group stands out.

I don't mean to suggest that you won't enjoy the smoked pork ribs ($22), but Southern Rail can't compete with a top-notch barbecue parlor. Although the "peel & eat" shrimp ($20) are perfectly fine, they're not what I'd pay a chef like Beckett to prepare. Cider-brined pork chop ($24) is no better or worse than dozens of other pork chops around town. Blackened catfish ($19) gets lost in a somewhat ill-conceived "cioppino" with olives and potatoes. And smoked chicken with biscuit "dumplings" ($18) barely nudges the needle past "bland."

So let's talk about what is distinctive. Those dishes include crispy duck leg confit ($25), paired with sausage-flecked dirty rice and collard greens vigorously zipped up with bacon, ham hock, hot sauce and vinegar. There are a lot of notes here, and they produce a vivid chord. I'd have liked more okra in the gumbo ($17, main dish; $8, appetizer), but there was no denying the complex flavors, deepened by smoked chicken and andouille sausage. Go ahead and splurge five bucks for three sweet, meaty shrimp, which supply an extra layer of nuance.

Blackened flat iron steak ($27) sounded so innocuous that I was relieved when one of my guests spared me from having to order it myself. So much for my critical instincts: The prime beef is superb, beautifully seasoned and cooked to medium-rare specs.

But what I'd make a special point of coming back for is the fried chicken ($20), a Wednesday special that's way too good to limit to Wednesdays. I'm pretty much a take-it-or-leave-it fried chicken guy, but there's no leave-it to this bird. Moist, juicy poultry inside a thick, crunchy crust — I could practically feel my body tingling after each bite. Terrific sides of hoecakes and pinto beans add to the thrill. Tack on a side order of grits ($6), and you might actually believe that the South shall rise again.

Still, on days other than Wednesday, I'd probably cobble a meal out of the appetizers, sides, salads and small plates. The principal drawback: Deciding what to choose and what to forgo.

On the not-forgoing-under-any-circumstances list are the crispy fried-green tomatoes ($9), four cornmeal-crusted slices served with a thick, creamy, damn-the-calories pimento cheese spread; the dreamy casserole of broccoli, cauliflower, leeks and rice in smoked onion sauce ($10), topped with a just-right sprinkling of spicy nuts. Also, the fragrant smoked trout ($12), smartly teamed with sweet pea cake and spiced tomato jam; and the inventive cornbread salad ($11), handsomely fleshed out with grilled cauliflower, marinated tomatoes, pickled beets, okra and greens.

But I'd genuinely regret giving up the ultra-rich chilled corn soup with maple crème fraiche ($6); the simple and very effective BLT salad ($6); the tasty tomato, bacon and onion tart ($9); the trio of sausage-flecked dirty-rice croquettes ($7); and biscuits smothered with tasso ham gravy ($6). If you don't share it three or four ways, the biscuits may force you to put the rest of your meal in a doggie bag.

However, don't be tempted by the dry cornbread muffins ($5). And unless you're a dieting ballerina, steer clear of the grilled watermelon salad with peach, radish and fennel ($11). The only utensils you'll need are tweezers.

The South has a sweet tooth, and Southern Rail takes dead aim at it.

There's no subtlety in the three big, piping-hot beignets covered with a blizzard of powdered sugar ($8); the hearty, bourbon-laced bread pudding ($8); and the beet-colored red velvet cake with its traditional cream cheese icing ($7). Whatever they lack in finesse, they make up for in brute power.

Even better, however, were the coconut cake oozing with coconut pudding ($8); the sweet tea meringue tart ($8); and the exceptional key lime pie ($7) served in a Mason jar.

Southern Rail wants you to drink as well as eat. Most of the fare isn't what I'd call wine-friendly, but if you have a different opinion, the all-American list gives you plenty of opportunity — some 30 reasonably priced wines are available by the glass, pichet or bottle, plus another 30 bottle-only.

Otherwise, tend to your thirst with draft beers or cocktails ($9). The latter, which lean toward the sweet side, include the Rail Runner, a deft blend of bourbon, Lillet, honey syrup and lemonade. And watch out for That Dog Won't Hunt, whose rye and mescal roots are masked by maple syrup and lemonade. If you guzzle this, you'll be looking up at the rest of your meal from the floor.

The staff is knowledgeable, personable and driven to serve with ruthless Yankee efficiency. If we hadn't forcefully slowed down the kitchen, waiters and bus boys, we'd have been in and out in under an hour.

What's the rush? Sometimes, you've got to stop and smell the fried chicken.

Price: $$ — $20 to $40

Rating: 3.5 (out of 5) stars, based on food, service, ambience.

Details: The Newton, 300 W. Camelback Road, Phoenix. Lunch and dinner, 11 a.m.-10 p.m. weekdays. Brunch and dinner, 10 a.m.-10 p.m. weekends. 602-200-0085, southernrailaz.com.

Reach Seftel at howard.seftel@arizonarepublic.com or 602-444-8533. He dines anonymously and The Republic pays all expenses.