Gone are the memorable smells of cigar boxes and dry goods of the Kress 5-and-10 store that once filled this space. Instead, smells of spices emanate from the kitchen, singers croon Sinatra tunes and the lineup at the bar is a mix of “Sex and the City” and Larry the Cable Guy.

By owners Brian and Julie Curry’s own definition, Jazz’d Tapas Bar is a destination steeped in “industrial chic.” The funkiness and a reasonably priced bar first attracted the younger audience. But young and old, the guests now come for the spontaneous, lively atmosphere and a menu that’s as varied as the old Coat’s thread display in the Kress store.

The Currys opened Jazz’d in fall 2003 with the expectation of doing a booming food business and a small bar. The market responded, according to Brian, by forcing that business model out the window.

“Now, we’re about half and half,” Curry admits. But the veteran restaurateur had the good sense to go with the flow. In return, he’s got a winner.

Previous ventures — Orleans Brick Oven and its successor, Oglethorpe Grill — had following, but with not nearly the success to warrant the time and energy the Currys had to invest. While the life of a restaurant owner isn’t easy, Curry says Jazz’d performs at a level commensurate with the angst.

A seven-day-a-week dinner schedule offers live music Wednesday through Saturday nights, leaving a trio of evenings that are a little quieter. Still, Curry says that some nights he has to accept the place is more of a club than a restaurant.

“Those nights, we push the tables back, add another bar and let it happen.”

But enough about décor, music and waxing nostalgic about 5-and-10s. What about the food?

While tapas has its foundation solidly built on Spanish traditions, the kitchen staff takes that idea of smaller portions and adds touches that blend foods of the coast and the South along with the more traditional tapas such as the potato frittata.

Executive Chef Dean Szablewski flexes his own culinary muscle regularly, adding specials Thursday through Saturday that follow portion guidelines but allow for his own inventiveness. Szablewski, trained in Europe after a stint in the Marine Corps, honed his skills in some of the Rockies’ most popular lodges. Today, his passion and penchant for experimentation adds to the Jazz’d experience and gives the typical tapas approach a lively shot of flavor.

The night we called on Jazz’d, the youngest Rutherford, Ted, was visiting from Indiana. We had made reservations and arrived to find the place packed.

Our 7 p.m. Tuesday night seating should have been uneventful and fairly calm. What we, and the Jazz’d staff had forgotten, was this was John Mellencamp concert night — and apparently every concert-goer had decided Jazz’d was the place to be.

Why do I even bring this up? In a city where service can vary as wildly as the spring weather, I was more than a little apprehensive about how our experience would develop.

The good news is, it turned out wonderfully.

Our waiter, Curtis, confessed up that the kitchen was slammed, the wait staff too short and the crowd was swelling. “This may take a while, but I’m gonna bring you some bread, and I’ll keep your drinks full.”

His promise was kept, and that’s all I could ask for — honesty, a solution and follow-through. Brian and Julie made the rounds, too, apologizing for waits and being hospitable. Perfect, perfect…

And, really, we didn’t wait long at all. The Jazz’d standard is seven to 10 minutes, but we enjoyed the time to visit, people-watch and catch up with friends as they came or went from dinner.

We started with rounds of appetizer foods. I selected the five-onion soup, a savory broth loaded with shallots, Vidalia and red onions, chives and scallions, topped with large croutons and a thick layer of melted Gruyere, asiago and manchego cheeses. It was hot and rich, filled with flavors that ranged from savory to sweet to spicy.

Ted chose fried calamari with sweet banana peppers. Frankly, the breading suffered from sogginess, but the calamari was tasty, and the peppers added an unusual touch. The large portion was enough to share among the three of us. It’s one of the restaurant’s most popular dishes, with as many as 250 served each month.

A baked cheese terra cotta plate offered a blend of several cheeses — among them Fontina, Jarlsberg and an aged cranberry cheddar — melted together and topped with a succulent roasted head of garlic.

Tart green apples fanned around the edge of the terra cotta bowl, and its gleaming white under plate was covered with toasted slices of baguette. It was filling, again enough to share, and was an uncommon presentation of cheeses and fruit. Miss T.J., ever true to her Wisconsin roots, pronounced it “cheese-errific” as she polished off the last dab of gooey cheese.

The crab cakes were a wonderful send-up of a Savannah favorite. Plenty of crab meat came together for these scrumptious morsels, served with a shrimp sauce. Slight spiciness added flavor, and, of course, the traditional textures of authentic crab cakes were not lost in these examples.

I had suggested to Ted that he try the Chorizo empanadas, forgetting my past experience. I knew Ted loves spicy sausage like Chorizo, but I had not remembered that the empanada is one of my least favorite menu items. The fried dough wrapper is delicious but overpowers the filling, which is billed as a delicious sounding medley of red potatoes, Chorizo sausage, onion, green olives and golden raisins — and accompanied by a cilantro lime cream. More filling on these morsels would make ’em irresistible.

Lastly, we sampled one of Chef Dean’s specials, a classic French preparation of beef tournedos au poivre.

Traditionally, the tournedos is a tender cut of beef taken from the end of the tenderloin. Kosher salt and plenty of cracked pepper, poivre, is pressed into the meat, which is then pan-sautéed.

Chef Dean’s version was on the mark. The beef was nearly fork tender and the cracked pink and black peppercorns added texture as well as ebullient spice and flavor. The green peppercorn infused demi glace was a complimentary accompaniment — again rich with flavor and spice.

Dessert? You bet! A monstrous bread pudding topped with pungent and mouthwatering butter rum sauce piqued my taste buds. It was hot through and through, sweet and satisfying — and plenty to share three ways.

I revisited Jazz’d some days later to peek around the kitchen, where Miss Mae, a longtime employee of the Currys, had just finished baking off bread pudding in small, oval ramekins. Seeing them in their original state made them even more appetizing.

The chocolate framboise cake is not nearly a flourless torte, but as close as you can get. The minimal flour helps bind the ingredients, but, as Chef Dean pointed out, the cake is so tender that it offers no resistance to an enthusiastic diner’s piercing fork.

With the emphasis on freshness, creativity and a surprise around every bite, you wouldn’t expect Jazz’d chocolate mousse to be just a chocolate mousse, would you? It’s not; delicately tucked inside is a second, raspberry mousse. Grand!

But the Currys’ quest for quality and perfection doesn’t end with the liberties they extend to the chef. A staggering list of martinis accompanies an impressive small wine list — which also includes a set of 90-point or better wines. The varietals and internationally balanced selection of wines provides ample pairings for nearly any combination of tapas you can imagine. Julie, a self-professed port wine fan, sees to it that four great little ports round out this stunning small cellar.

A kitchen tour found trays of fresh vegetables, properly chilled meats and fish, and Miss Mae patting out another few dozen crab cakes for that night’s diners. The work space gleams, even though its ceramic tile squares are original to the building.

Ironically, the Jazz’d kitchen was once the Kress commissary.

Of all of Savannah’s finer restaurants, Jazz’d possesses an energy, a vibe, more familiar in more metropolitan markets. Its owners take stock in every aspect of operations. Its chef injects his own passion, leadership and creativity into its kitchen — and even the wait staff. The restaurant hums like a well-oiled machine — or the melody of a Frank Sinatra classic — and its guests surely head home singing its praises. n