As a result of the Ted Stevens imbroglio, outsiders now think of Girdwood as an exclusive resort town. But Alaskans know better. Resorts evoke rosewood and brandy snifters and smoky perfumes. They evoke men with blindingly white teeth who wear their college rings; women whose lipstick matches their fingernails; likeminded people who live in houses that look alike.

That's not Girdwood, and that's not why we go there. We do go there to get away, but what we really find is a perfect microcosm of Alaska. The tipsy houses; the way the dogs have the run of the town; the fresh-faced ski bums; the hairy hippies, the U.S. senators; the oil executives and their wives who, atop of the mountain, stare longingly southward toward Dallas.

I love watching them all interact in the coffee houses, slipping on the slope, watching an all-girl band perform reggae at the day lodge. And, of course, in the few restaurants in town.

My husband and I tend to head to the Double Musky when we're in town. We do so almost without thinking, because that's just kind of where you go to eat in Girdwood. I love it there, too. But on a recent Saturday night, I could barely move from a day of snowboarding, and an hour-long wait in the crowded bar was just too much for me.

So we went down the road to Maxine's Glacier City Bistro. I've been there before, and even reviewed it for the Anchorage Press when it opened in 2004. But I haven't been back since. I liked it then, and admired the owners for trying to be inventive. But it didn't quite strike me as a place you wanted to eat after skiing. It was a little too healthy, maybe, if it's possible, too focused on local produce. Too fussy. My husband likes meat and cream and cheese, and has limited patience for food that reeks of too much cumin.

This time, though, it was different. The inside still looked the same: still vaguely hodgepodge, still clinging to the roots of the rowdy bar it once was. (For some, maybe overly clingy. The paper napkins, for instance, threw us a little.)

This time, the menu seemed to match. It is as if the owners decided to do away with the idea of what Maxine's should be. They actually decided to make the food not only sound good but taste good. And it's reasonably priced, with most entrees fetching about $20.

For our main meal, Tony had a penne pasta with duck confit with a mushroom ragout and truffle oil, which I recommended enthusiastically to a guy sitting behind me. The duck was falling off the bone and the ragout was creamy without being sticky; the truffle oil perfumed it perfectly. I had the lamb curry with a madras curry sauce. It reminded me of my childhood. Or the way I wanted food to taste when I was a child.

In fact, all of it did: the pasta, the chocolate mousse afterwards, the tipsy dining room -- all thick and light, fresh and rich. The East meets California meets Alaska meets Girdwood. Meets it as it is, as we are -- a little unpredictable, a little messy. And so, so much better for it.

Maxine's Glacier City Bistro
Girdwood
(907) 783-1234

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