The fast churn of the restaurant world can pack a lot of history into a short time. It was only last summer when I enjoyed Central Kitchen and its adjoining tapas bar, Tasca. Central Kitchen closed before I had a chance to commit my enjoyment to print, while Tasca survived only several more months. Sheridan Square replaced Central Kitchen in the space, with chef Gary Robins; I had one of his meals there before he left the position in July. Franklin Becker is now manning the kitchen at Sheridan Square and opened the adjacent tapas bar, Tierra, last Friday. It’s exhausting.

The wood-burning oven is the focus of Sheridan Square’s dining room, which is otherwise almost design-free: Its plain banquettes and black-and-white photos could as easily decorate a restaurant in Atlanta or Lincoln, Neb. The chef changeover has been accompanied by a dramatic bout of service haplessness. Although the faces are the same, they look jittery, and have utterly lost the coordination with the kitchen and with each other that they had a couple of months ago, to the point that confusion is now one of the restaurant’s key features. I watched a drink I had ordered emerge from the bar and make the rounds of the restaurant, stopping at various wrong tables and being turned away, before it was eventually — almost correctly — set down in front of my companion.

The other memorable aspect of the restaurant is Mr. Becker’s food, which is exceptional. It’s not just because of his long history on the scene that his dining rooms are often dotted with chefs from other restaurants. At several previous restaurants, I’ve recognized his knack for unexpected variations and re-envisionings of familiar themes. That knack is nowhere to be seen at Sheridan Square, where the dishes are straightforward and powerfully fueled by their ingredients.

At this time of year, of course, the ingredients are particularly conducive. When a filleted brook trout ($26) comes out of the wood oven, its rich, yellowish flesh has great flavor, but it’s the meltingly roasted miniature zucchini and peeled, piping hot tricolored tomatoes that I wound up saving for last, so the final poignant bite of the evanescent summery dish would be the best. The crusty sear on a stingy trio of scallops ($26) is unusually thick and sweet, but the ultra-ripe, barely cooked peapods divert the eater’s attention with their concentrated sunniness.

Artfully deployed garlic and pepper tip the balance in a starter of bright-orange gazpacho ($11) whose tomatoes are so vivid and sweet that the big, smooth bowlful could otherwise be a dessert: A scoop of cantaloupe sorbet melts into it without raising any eyebrows.

Some of these dishes will still be going strong after summer’s produce vanishes, such as a little dish of snails ($13), baked in a fruity, buttery, deeply concentrated soy glaze. Halfway through our eating it, a waiter brought a teaspoon to the table. Whether that was a tribute to our visible enjoyment of the snail’s sauce, or just another inexplicable service error, I do not know.

Half the main courses come from the stove, half from the wood-fired oven. The menu name-checks cherrywood as the fuel of choice. I’m not convinced that the species of tree matters much when the food is cooking fast and absorbing little smoke, but it fuels the palate’s imagination, too, which is an important art. Who’s to say I’m not tasting fruitwood smoke among the peppery sweet cherry glaze and whole sour cherries topping a fist-thick, barbecue-moist Berkshire pork chop ($27)?

Dessert chef Romina Peixoto captures the season with a cobbler ($8) — a steaming casserole of darkly syrupy peaches capped with biscuit, ribbons of basil, and sweet corn ice cream.

As you step out onto Seventh Avenue after the meal, the evening breeze carries a note of wood smoke and the nostalgic smell of summer’s end.

Sheridan Square (138 Seventh Ave. South, between 10th and Charles streets, 212-352-2237)

adams@pote.com