Long before Eppie Johnson got canonized as the patron saint of local triathletes, he was a restaurateur, running a group of coffee shops recognized for straightforward, value-priced interpretations of dishes right out of the American heartland.

About a decade ago, he gave up all that, but retained his prominence as the godfather of Eppie's Great Race, "the world's oldest triathlon," now 35.

But in late June, just as athletes were finishing their training for this summer's running of the race, Johnson ambled back into the restaurant business.

On this leg, however, he's more coach than competitor, guiding his nephew, Richard Bruce, through the rocky course that is today's dining scene in the greater Sacramento area.

Together, they took over the Horseshoe Bar Grill just off Interstate 80 at Loomis, which had been closed for more than two years. They rechristened it New Horseshoe Bar Grill.

Under their stewardship, the restaurant is far closer in spirit to the old Horseshoe Bar Grill than it is to Johnson's early coffee shops.

The original Horseshoe Bar Grill opened in late 1996 as a casual bistro but quickly evolved into a special-occasion restaurant with formally attired servers preparing tableside flambés.

Though one of few fine-dining restaurants to serve residents of fast-growing Roseville, Rocklin and Loomis, it never settled into a secure groove, and during the ensuing decade went through a succession of changes involving personnel and concepts.

Johnson and Bruce are undaunted both by that history and by today's fragile economic climate, and are sticking with the same sort of muscular and dear dishes long associated with the site.

At New Horseshoe Bar Grill, in other words, expect to find yourself scanning a menu that includes venison osso buco for $38, filet mignon for $34 and rib-eye steak for $37.

To be sure, not every entree is as rich. A chicken dish costs $15, the house burger $12, and in apparent tribute to the Eppie's of old, there's the "hot and brown," roasted turkey on potato bread with grilled tomatoes and a sauce of "cave-aged" white Cheddar cheese, $14.

In retrospect, I wish we'd tried the "hot and brown." But I have fond memories of the earlier incarnations of the restaurant, and yielded to the menu's more industrious dishes rather than those representing conservativism and comfort.

With busier dishes, however, the kitchen's reach tends to exceed its grasp. In concept and technique, the brilliant too often shares the plate with the dull, and the curling ribbons of fried carrots that top a disproportionate number of dishes don't compensate for the gap.

The pan-seared and pressed chicken was wonderfully flavored, its roasted-garlic au jus aromatic and sweet, but an accompanying hominy and chive potato cake was all listless starch, the sort of side you'd ask the server to not include in the leftover box ($14.95).

While the confit legs of the "rabbit duo" were rich and moist if bony, the breast was spongy and gamy ($24.95). What's more, the dish's asparagus was pale, its zinfandel reduction was thin, and the parmigiano-reggiano risotto was more grainy than creamy.

Few dishes, however, were as disappointing as the pan-seared Alaskan halibut cheeks, which with their thick and oily breading looked and tasted more as if they'd been deep-fried ($24.95). While their meat was fresh and moist, their sweet flavor was overwhelmed with a puttanesca sauce shot through with way too much anchovy and olive. This peculiar combination was all the more mysterious for the plate's rigid squid-ink fettuccine.

Executive chef Robert Facciani and his kitchen crew have artistic ambitions, as shown by a bright starter of four juicy chunks of rich lamb, each topped with a small slice of caramelized peach held in place with a spear of what our server said was leek but actually was lemongrass, too woody to be anything but garnish ($14.95).

The dishes we savored without qualification were both starters, a pristine and spicy arugula salad sweetened with cipollini and crunchy with pine nuts ($8.95), and a brothy soup generous with three kinds of earthy mushrooms, an autumnal takeoff on French onion soup, complete with a large slice of floating grilled bread, ideal for appreciating the dark and flavorful broth ($5.95).

Call The Bee's Mike Dunne, (916) 321-1143. Read his blog at sacbee.com/appetizers. Back columns: www.sacbee.com/dunne.