Here's a promise: In writing about Oro, there will be no cheap references to "good as gold," "gold standard," "fool's gold," etc. Although it's tempting, very tempting. My first comment does have to do with gold as a color: The faded blue denim shirts on the waiters have to go - with the possible exception of the one on our waiter. (It matched his eyes, according to a dining companion who notices such things.) As a part of last year's redo of the Emily Morgan, Oro rose from the ashes of the utterly undistinguished Yellow Rose Café. Now garbed in golds and deep browns, illuminated by handsome fabric pendants, sconces, and votive candles, and sporting such flagrantly opulent touches as an alabaster bar glowing from lights placed beneath, the restaurant has an air of elegance rivaled by few in the city. The second-string waitstaff is garbed in black, tunic-style jackets. So what's with the denim? Think of an evening at Oro as theater, and you'll understand where I'm coming from. Thinking of the menu as Modern Italian, as it claims to be, may help define its direction some, but isn't really necessary to enjoyment of the meal. - Ron Bechtol