By MERIDITH FORD
Journal Restaurant Critic

PROVIDENCE -- Sometimes I have to pinch myself: I actually eat out for a living. I even get to take a friend with me. Sometimes, it's the only free moment I have with a friend, since life can sometimes get in the way of itself.

Josephine's Bistro Cafe is the perfect place for catching up with your best girlfriend, sipping an unabashedly girlie drink (yes, my martini was green) and noshing (okay, we picked) on good food that's an eclectic mix of Mediterranean-influenced favorites.

More specifically, I'm talking about the part of the Mediterranean east of the tip of Italy's boot (although there are plenty of inspired offerings that could be categorized as Italian, too).

And then there are the crepes.

Crepes are one of those gastronomic experiences that, when as well-prepared as they are here, become almost transcendental as you eat them. Part pancake, part edible lace, they rest on the tongue both chewy and airy at the same time, vessels of whatever flavors rest near them.

They are also a rarity in Providence restaurants. Josephine's has several crepes on the menu, including one filled with sauteed spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms and feta cheese and another with sweet Italian sausage, roasted peppers and onions.

But the one I found most tempting was filled with juicy, diced chicken and sliced mushrooms in a cheesy bechamel sauce. Unfortunately, this dish also proved to be my undoing, since I had tried successfully through a first course of stuffed dates and arugula salad not to out-eat my long-and-lean companion.

Not here. Not with the soft crepes -- tinged with a hint of cinnamon -- draped in all that creamy, cheesy sauce. By the time we had silently divvied things up, it was all I could do to not bite her hand to prevent her from getting more.

In short, I found these crepes very hard to share.

THE AFOREMENTIONED ARUGULA salad had the nutty, assertive flavor that should come with this popular green. However, since many of the leaves were still covered with grit, I spent most of my time smearing the tender white hearts of palm and grilled asparagus that accompanied it into the aromatic pungency of a raspberry vinaigrette.

The stuffed dates were as moving an experience as the crepes. Dates have a mysterious sweetness; here they are paired with the tangy smoothness of goat cheese and the buttery richness of chopped pecans, then wrapped like tiny packages with smoked bacon. To add insult to injury (translation: very hard to share) the plate was drizzled with a rich, intense Balsamic reduction, just right for date dipping.

It was a cream-filled night, because although other pastas on the menu sounded seductive, it was a pappardelle with mushrooms and a Parmesan cream sauce that won us over. And it was so easy to share. Not because it wasn't good -- on the contrary -- the woodsy flavor of the mushrooms melding with the creamy Parmesan was dreamy. But isn't pasta always easy to share?

JOSEPHINE'S is the latest venture from restaurateur Jamil Hindi, who owned L'imaj before it closed in 1999. Hindi is originally from Beirut, Lebanon, and named Josephine's after his mother, who still lives there. His Lebanese roots are evident in dishes such as the stuffed dates and seafood skewers of shrimp and scallops drizzled with lemon-infused olive oil.

Hindi's staff is young and perhaps a little green, but extremely enthusiastic and helpful: It was so hot the night we dined that both of us had to put our hair up and ask to be moved outside -- where, with the thermometer approaching the high 90s, it was actually cooler.

They were quick and cordial about rearranging things for us. It's a cozy space, sparsely decorated, yet elegantly so. Like so many restaurants on Federal Hill, it has French windows that open handsomely to the street.

Desserts are Italian-influenced, since most of them are various versions of gelati, and are imported from Italy. Their success is mixed: an ice cream pie-like concoction, served sliced, had a muted chocolate-sambuca flavor and tasted like it had stayed in the freezer a little too long. Another was a chocolate gelato filled with the scrumptiously creamy, delightfully eggy flavor of a frozen zabaglione.