Jonathan Waxman’s name is linked in restaurantgoers’ minds with light California cuisine, but the latest project where he’s listed as “consulting chef” is far from that. Madaleine Mae, a new restaurant on the Upper West Side, serves Southern cooking with few of the fresh fillips that characterized Michael’s and Jams, the restaurants where Mr. Waxman earned his reputation. Except in Harlem, New York’s Southern restaurants typically have a theme-park feel. Madaleine Mae isn’t the worst offender in that regard, but it’s certainly not an exception to the trend. A dark wood bar looms across the length of the room, conjuring images of steamy old New Orleans establishments. The staff seems to have been trained in at least the rudiments of Southern hospitality; some take to it better than others.

Rum (spelled “rhum” in the French style) is a specialty, with a selection of fine snifters ranging from heady, tutti-frutti Pyrat ($9) to the austere Clément VSOP ($10). Rum is also the active ingredient in the restaurant’s dozen different “rhum cures” ($10 each), stiff shots of sugared liquor infused with fruit and spice recipes promising variously to “guard against negativity” or “decrease inhibition.”

On a busy night, biscuits topped with thick, milky gravy and thin-sliced country ham ($8.50) are glowingly fresh and buttery, as are the ones that come free to the table. But on quieter weeknights, unfortunately, the golden puffs age, behind the scenes, into stiff discs with all the appeal of plywood. On those nights, it’s safer to order the heady, salty gumbo ($11.95), a thinnish but complex soup filled with soft shrimp, coins of sausage, shreds of fish, and excellent smoky spice. Order the boiled shrimp appetizer ($16.95), and the server spreads a section of the day’s New York Post on the table, then unceremoniously dumps a dozen giant shrimps on the paper, leaving diners to strip off the hot creatures’ legs and shells with their fingers before dunking them in the fiery cocktail sauce or tangy remoulade and biting in. Each crustacean is at least three bites’ worth, making this a meal-size starter.

Mr. Waxman’s famous roast chicken ($17.95) puts in a command appearance, moist and salty as ever inside its brittle skin, but it’s upstaged by the fried chicken ($19.95). The latter, a juicy leg and breast laid in a buttery purée of sweet potatoes, wears a mahogany-dark cornmeal breading, crisp and delicious — even after a night in a doggie bag, it turns out. A filet of flavorful redfish ($22.75), whose flesh tastes of the shrimp it eats, is richly crusted with coarsely crushed pecans and served with something the menu calls succotash but that I would call closer to fruit compote. The fish is good, but it would be more enjoyable with a counterbalance to its rich flavor.

“Low country” jambalaya ($22.95) comes with a warning from the staff that it’s not the soft, paella-like rice dish you might expect. The rice is fried crisp after it’s cooked, turning from a smooth and supple starch into a scree of crunchy red-brown nuggets that are hard to manage with a fork, and dotted with little shellfish, strings of chicken meat, and dice of andouille sausage.

Soft bourbon-pecan ice cream might be the best of the desserts (all $7), although a large crème brûlée with the dark savor of chicory coffee will doubtless have its partisans.

Whatever may be the role of its clever consulting chef, Madaleine Mae isn’t breaking much new ground. It simply provides sound, middle-rung Southern classics to the families of a neighborhood that seems thrilled to have them.

Madaleine Mae (461 Columbus Ave. at 82nd Street, 212-496-3000).