The people at the table behind us are discussing their marriage woes. We don't intend to eavesdrop, but it's a juicy, Sex and the City-type conversation, and since we're a group of self-described over-listeners, we hang on every word - until suddenly their conversation stops midsentence, and we're left dangling with a riveting plotline, sans ending.

Is it the food that has made them abruptly halt their conversation?

It's certainly possible. Toshi Kizaki is arguably Denver's star stalwart of Japanese cooking, a gifted chef who has hooked hamachi and unagi aficionados on Sushi Den, his popular temple of raw fish on South Pearl Street that swells with black-clad hipsters who brave the waits, knowing that it's part of the pomp and circumstance performance. If Denver had paparazzi, this is where they would find their Paris.

Unlike many local chefs who have opened back-to-back restaurants, it took more than 20 years for Kizaki to introduce a second den, which he did in September, kitty- corner to Sushi Den. He called it Izakaya Den, named for the pubs in Japan proffering savory, shareable snacks best devoured with sake or beer.

Planting two restaurants within casting distance of one another is a gutsy move, and I'm not sure it was the right one. After three visits here, I've seen the kitchen close early, more empty seats than full ones and a bar devoid of bodies.

And yet, this is a restaurant that seemingly has everything going for it: The enchantingly stylish, high-ceilinged interior - with cedar wood beams imported from Japan and dimly illuminated by silk-screened chandeliers - is simply stunning. Contrasting textures greet you at every turn - woven maps of bamboo, silk- screened chandeliers, eye-catching stiletto-red fiberglass shadowboxes and, above the exposed kitchen and sushi bar, a papered mural frolicking with fish.

The sprawling space has the potential for great energy, but the only buzz comes from the pulse- pounding techno music, which thumps to the same drumbeat, no matter the tune.

The food, however, is hardly one-dimensional, except to say that the menu only peddles small plates, all designed for sharing and minimal attention spans. If you prefer the safety of sushi, there is a roster for that, too. Your server will explain that one side of the menu pays homage to traditional Japanese dishes, while the opposite side celebrates that other F-word - fusion. Against a backdrop of Japanese cooking, culinary travels to Morocco, France, Africa and Italy emerge. No matter where you voyage, the results are mostly confident and intriguing.

When was the last time, for example, you found a profusion of Technicolor, textures and flavors - asparagus spears, triangles of grapefruit, pear tomatoes and lacy, crimson-hued seaweed - in your seaweed salad ($8)? Or slurped a bewitchingly fragrant miso soup ($3) bobbing with scallions, shiitake mushrooms and the sea breeze of kelp? And while the tempura-fried calamari ($8) wasn't remotely crispy, the sweet ropes of flesh had the lusty texture of molten velvet.

The excellent udon noodle soup ($12) is a one-pot marvel of springy noodles dancing with rich slivers of duck breast, flaps of seaweed and half moons of pink-rimmed fish cake.

Halibut ($12) arrives brush- stroked with saffron, roasted and served atop a warm yellow tomato gazpacho with thin coins of cucumber, grilled white asparagus and kelp. It's a playful, modern spin that made me wish for seconds.

Fresh thyme wafts from the bowl of plump mussels ($12) wading in a tart broth strewn with shallots, zucchini and tomatoes, while the ethereal scallops ($10), seared and sliced until they're nearly translucent, are matched in flavor by an irresistible salad of grapefruit, jicama, avocado and straw potatoes.

A few dishes, however, should be retooled. To wit: the sweet pea soup ($7), which is chalky and hardly sweet; the French onion soup ($6), which swims with too many onions; and the gooey, plate-sticking beef carpaccio ($13). I would also re-engineer the dispirited roasted beet salad ($7), marred by clumsily sliced, inexplicably bitter mozzarella rounds.

Instead, set sail for the marvelous sushi. You can order unagi ($5), the ubiquitous freshwater eel that appears on most sushi menus, or the anago ($5), hailing from the sea and tasting far more delicate than its fattier counterpart. Dotted with tobiko and curtained with avocado, the crispy tuna ($12) is a thrilling textural assemblage of golden- hued caramelized rice, pinpricks of jalapeño, tuna tartare and silken rafts of sliced tuna. And the new style salmon roll ($16), smoky, toothsome and sexy, made me want to shout.

Which is exactly what Izakaya Den needs: a clamorous crowd of effervescent, jubilant diners to embrace Toshi Kizaki's provocative Japanese experiment.

Sake to me

Izakaya, or Japanese drinking dens, are revered for their beer and sake selections, and no self-respecting grazer noshes without his liquids. Enthusiasts of both will be amply rewarded at Izakaya Den, where the sake list is nearly as engaging as the food.

Here, the wooden-box sakes, which runneth over in the spirit of "health and prosperity" (so say the servers), are served at room temperature and designated with plus and minus signs: The plus sign signifies dry sake, while the minus sign signals sweet sake.

Available by the box ($11-$20) and the bottle ($85 and upwards), it's an expensive libation, but certainly worth sipping if you're flush with yen. If, on the other hand, you enjoy ice-cold sake ($8-$34), which makes for easy drinking, there are a slew of those, too. Hot sake ($6), whose appeal has dwindled over the years, is still a favorite among the uninitiated. And for all you sake naysayers, there's always Sapporo.

Izakaya Den

• Grade: B+

• Address: 1518 S. Pearl St.

• Hours: 5-10:30 p.m. Sun.-Thurs.; 5 p.m.-midnight Fri.-Sat.

• Food: Japanese with global twists

• How much: $3-$20 small plates; $3.80-$16 sushi

• Reservations: Recommended

• Noise: Where's the din?

• Information: 303-777-0691; www. izakayaden.net

• Parking: Complimentary valet at Sushi Den

lmidson@gmail.com

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