Despite Its Creative Flare, Fuego Fizzles. By Rebecca Cook FUEGO, ONE OF the newer additions to the East Tanque Verde restaurant row, has precipitated much comment among the dining-out set since it opened its doors for business three months ago. Expectations ran high for this latest culinary endeavor by Chef Alan Zeman, who in the past inspired the menus of Anthony's and El Conquistador. Set in the site of the former Jerome's, Fuego has been redone in a homey chic--hardwood floors, rough-hewn wooden beams and a fireplace centered in the dining area meld pleasantly with lilac tablecloths and a modern mirrored and trim-line bar. Glancing over the innovative and tempting menu, my mouth began to water. Contrary to the popular belief that restaurant critics live only to detract, I really wanted Fuego to be a rave. What it is, however, is a restaurant that, although thoroughly decent, should be much better than it is. By a long shot. The lunch menu at Fuego teases diners with various salad, sandwich and pasta possibilities. In addition, the Fuego menu is infused with some intriguing variations of Southwestern classics, such as the chili-lamb enchilada, ceviche sushi and tequila-cured salmon burritos. I opted for the salad of the season, Fuego's version of a house salad, with a crisp blend of mixed greens and other vegetables. The house vinaigrette was the ideal complement--a delicately seasoned and tasty emulsion that had me wondering with each bite what combination of herbs and spices could produce such flavor. My friend ordered the soup of the moment, a seafood bisque. Although flavorful with small bits of fish throughout, its base was a little thin and did not have the velvety-smooth richness of most other bisques I've tried. The capellini Capricorn rounded out my meal, angel hair pasta tossed with bits of chicken, sun-dried tomatoes, artichoke hearts, wild mushrooms, goat cheese and an Italian-dijon vinaigrette. Just as it sounds, this was a rich dish, which perhaps accounts for the fact that the portion was relatively small. The goat cheese melted down with each bite to blend with the other ingredients, thereby mellowing its rather pungent flavor, which at times vied with the dijon. My friend sampled Fuego's club "Mexicali" sandwich, bite-sized chicken tenders, sliced avocado, diced bacon, shredded cabbage, Monterey jack cheese and a salsa fresca rolled in a huge flour tortilla and served with a fruit salsa on the side. This meal was much more substantial and less exotic than the pasta dish, but failed to impress. It's hard to pinpoint why this dish wasn't really wonderful--everything was fresh and perfectly prepared--but it was generally lacking in flavor, and my friend Lisa, who usually gets clean-plate honors, was unable to finish it. Dessert selections vary daily at Fuego and, on this visit, we sampled a Grand Marnier cheesecake and a lemon-grass creme brulee, with the brulee being the more successful and satisfying of the two. The cheesecake had a lovely texture but was overly sweet and wasn't infused with the gentle orange Grand Marnier flavor I had expected. The real problem at lunch was the service, which was achingly slow and resulted in a two-hour meal that was not intended to be leisurely. The restaurant was not particularly busy and there seemed to be plenty of help, leaving me at a loss to explain the several interminable delays. Dinner was more successful service-wise but, again, there were some inexplicable lapses, such as the failure of the bill to appear at the end of the meal. We began with an appetizer of roasted garlic and crostini, served with goat cheese and grilled vegetables in a semi-sweet prickly pear glaze. Although good, this dish missed being terrific because the partly raw garlic failed to slip easily from its cloves to spread on the crostini. Our entrees that evening were a lemon-grass crusted mahi mahi served with a ginger remoulade, and the crispy chili-cranberry duck breast and chipolata sausage. The mahi mahi was a huge disappointment. The fish was overwhelmingly "fishy," there was only the faintest taste of the lemon grass, and its presentation consisted of an inelegant topping that resembled tartar sauce more than anything else. Not good. The duck fared slightly better, but, once again, failed to impress. It tasted like roasted duck, period. The chili-cranberry mixture utterly lacked zip and the chipolata, which did have a kick to it, came to the table teeny and singular. Dessert was small but sweet redemption, a sumptuous, chocolate-crusted mocha almond cheesecake. My friend forfeited the dessert option to continue his sampling of Fuego's 25 microbrew beers from around the country. All in all, Fuego is just okay; not a disaster by any means, but seldom wholly successful. Hopefully they'll get the kinks worked out and become one of Tucson's better restaurants. They've definitely got what it takes, but right now they have a ways to go.

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