A lowcountry treat - Seafood plays a starring role at Henry's.

A chef friend of mine likes to bitch that in Cleveland there are hundreds of restaurants but only one menu. While a wee bit overblown, that statement possesses more than a kernel of truth. Just take a gander at the menus of your favorite restaurants. I'm willing to wager blindly that each contains some, if not all, of the following culinary chestnuts: artichoke dip, crispy calamari, crab cakes, steamed mussels, wedge salad with blue cheese dressing, Chilean sea bass, braised short ribs and flourless chocolate cake.

Whoever said that "variety is the spice of life" obviously hasn't been dining in Cleveland.

That's why when a restaurant comes along that is doing something truly unique, my enthusiasm reaches a fever pitch. That was my frame of mind when I first learned of Paul and Tracey Jagielski's new project in Avon, Henry's at the Barn. Paul was born and bred in Northeast Ohio, but his culinary education carried him south to Charleston. There he fell in love with Lowcountry cooking, the predominant cuisine of South Carolina's coastal plains. Henry's would be Paul's opportunity to share his passion for Lowcountry cooking with us Yankees.

And it wasn't just the cuisine that was to be atypical. Located at the Shoppes of Olde Avon Village, Henry's would be housed in an authentic 1830s stone-and-wood barn, which was painstakingly relocated to the site last spring. The unique pedestrian-friendly shopping district is set back from the busy roadway, down a winding lane dotted with mature trees, reminiscent of the majestic Live Oaks of the South.

Southern hospitality is alive and well at Henry's. Visitors to the eminently comfortable restaurant are treated like house guests. Barroom customers are greeted with homemade pimento cheese, the pate of the South. ("If I were to welcome you into my home," Paul likes to say, "I'd offer you pimento cheese.") A tall stack of plaid blankets waits by the back door for folks who care to brave the outdoor fire pit.

If I had my way, I'd do all my dining in bars, and the one at Henry's would be near the top of the list. Knotty driftwood, plucked from the Lake Erie shore, serves as the bar and foot rails. A sturdy stone hearth fills the lodge-like space with warmth. A second-story loft-lounge is furnished with overstuffed sofas and armchairs. It's the ideal place to meet for pre-dinner cocktails.

The main dining room, an addition to the original structure, lacks much of the charm found elsewhere in the restaurant. And its bare concrete floors could use a rug or three to moderate the noise. But the food is tasty, the service good and the chairs comfortable.

Seafood plays a starring role in Lowcountry cooking, and it plays one at Henry's, too. Oysters, briny and bracing, are served on the half shell with Paul's spicy cocktail sauce and shavings of frozen malt vinegar. "Fish Bowls" allow the diner to create custom appetizers from a list of chilled seafood that includes shrimp cocktail, peel-and-eat shrimp, crab claws, oysters and king crab. Each item is priced separately.

If you prefer your oysters cooked, jump on an order of skillet-fried oysters ($12). Expertly breaded and fried, the oysters are presented in a wax-paper cone and, a la Buffalo wings, served with hot sauce, blue cheese and celery. In the "Lake Erie Fries" ($11), local walleye and perch are cut into "fries," breaded, fried and sided by house-made tartar sauce.

The Charleston she-crab soup ($4) is not to be missed. Made from Carolina blue crabs and bearing the characteristic coral hue that comes from real crab roe, the bisque is smooth, creamy and intensely flavored.

Entrées, too, are boldly flavored — and immensely comforting. Few dishes exemplify Lowcountry cooking like shrimp and grits ($23), which is savored morning, noon and night down South. Henry's version is staggeringly good. And rich. Large shrimp and sassy andouille sausage are bathed in a cayenne-spiked cream sauce and spooned over creamy stone-ground grits.

In the Lowcountry Boil ($24), a mess o' clams, mussels, shrimp, fish, sausage and potatoes frolic in a mildly spicy "crab-boil" broth. An airy grit-and-cheese soufflé saves the day when a seared grouper ($26) leaves the kitchen a smidge too "seared." Both are on the receiving end of a delicious corn-and-leek cream sauce.

On your way out of the restaurant be sure to check out the photos of the harrowing barn move; they hang on the wall near the restrooms.

"Henry," by the way, was the Jagielski's faithful golden retriever. You'll find a portrait of the namesake pooch up in the loft, along with a zillion other canine characters.