A chill autumn rain had driven most diners off the awning-covered terrace and inside Olive and Fig before we arrived. The staff bustled to keep up with the crowd, but as soon as we crossed the threshold a waiter hurrying to a table detoured to assure us we’d be seated right away. And so we were, though we had not made a reservation.

   Seconds later Kareem Daoud, the maitre d’, appeared, extending a warm welcome and promptly showing us to the table of our choice. The food is good here, but it’s the vibrant atmosphere and outstanding service that make the evening memorable. Olive and Fig — the synecdoche of its name sums up its Mediterranean cuisine and the heritage of its chefs — has brought new energy to the space on Flemington’s Main Street previously occupied by Max’s Bistro. The chefs, Moe ElGhettey, who previously ran a catering firm, and Fred Mannino, an owner of the former Max’s, are partners in the new restaurant, which opened in June.

   The staff, in their white shirts, black trousers and ties, worked our table as a well-trained team. They smoothly delivered glasses, opened our wine (the restaurant is BYO), put it on ice, and received a sotto voce thank you for the quick response from Mr. Daoud as he passed by. While reviewing the menu, we sipped our wine and enjoyed warm, dense-crumbed Italian rolls that we dipped in warm olive oil and spread with delectable, crushed cloves of roasted garlic.

   The menu is worth studying. Among the appetizers are figs and Stilton cheese served with sliced pears and fig marmalade; a platter of marinated eggplant and baba ghanoush (smoky, puréed eggplant); and a Mediterranean appetizer platter that our server said “would fill half the table,” which includes specialties from several Mediterranean countries: stuffed grape leaves, yogurt salad, olives and figs (of course), and, again, eggplant.

   A single crab cake ($11) made a fine starter. Seared crisp on the outside and drizzled with cilantro butter that lent a coppery richness to the sweet, salty crab, it rested on a pillow of roasted corn and gained zest from tartar sauce flavored with smoked tomato. (Some would find the crab cake large enough to serve as an entrée.) In another appetizer from the regular menu, slices of duck ($12) were arrayed over a compote of chopped dried figs (or fresh figs in season) and sautéed shitake mushrooms, all drizzled with a light peanut sauce. These flavors of fruit, earth and grass would have been well chosen to harmonize with succulent duck, but this duck had been cooked to medium, not medium rare. In just a few moments of overcooking, or possibly standing, the meat had lost the characteristic semi-wild flavor that should be the soul of the dish and gained, instead, the headier flavor of organ meats.

   Entrées are hearty at Olive and Fig and marked by strong flavors: short ribs are braised beef in a bourbon demi-glaze; duck breast is roasted with butternut squash; chicken breast is crusted in pesto and potato; salmon is crusted with horseradish and macadamia nuts; and grilled filet mignon features a peppercorn demi-glaze.

   The special osso buco ($25) shared the same, bold style and proved to be a dish to warm body and soul on a cold and rainy night. Braised until meltingly tender (for eight hours, Chef ElGhettey later told us) the 10-ounce veal shank was intensely flavored and served over the traditional bed of creamy risotto, here infused with the flavors of parmesan cheese and delicate shitake mushrooms. Grilled asparagus spears provided an al dente contrast to the tender veal.

   Ordered rare, pan-seared yellow fin tuna ($27) lacked the big flavors that are the most noticeable hallmark of the Olive and Fig style. Described as “sushi grade” on the menu, the fish was bland and pink, without the dense texture and deep ruby color we’ve come to expect from seared, top quality yellow fin. It was cooked closer to medium than rare, and it lacked the contrast between the seared outside and almost-raw interior that the dish usually offers. The mango peach chardonnay salsa on which the tuna was served was laced with black beans and chopped onion. A half dozen spears of al dente grilled asparagus, drizzled with a sweet balsamic reduction, accompanied the tuna. The excellent salsa and perfect asparagus balanced our disappointment with the fish.

   Desserts, a specialty of Chef Mannino, are all made in house. The short list includes chocolate mousse and rice pudding, as well as a heavy pumpkin cheese cake — sturdy with autumnal flavors, and a well-made crème brulée — with a crisp crust of caramel contrasting nicely with the creamy custard below. With the strong espresso, we enjoyed sipping a complementary glass of Sambuca, the intensely heady anise liqueur.