Hanna Street does exist. I spent over twenty minutes cycling up, down, and around it in disbelief that I wasn't able to find it myself before I stopped a strolling couple for directions. The restaurant ended up not really being on Hanna at all (well it is, but on the most technical of ways). Walking along Hanna will point you in the right direction though. The main entrance really doesn't look like much, but the door that looks like it would take you to a more impressive entrance will only lead you to a sweaty fitness centre.
The artfully decorated, slightly industrial dining space was filled with casual weeknight diners, which was likely to have been the doing of Summerlicious ($35) and the explanation for the incredible gaps between each of our three courses. Even the drinks took what seemed to feel like forever to come out. Luckily, the glass of 2008 viognier ($12) that finally arrived after our starters because of a "small accident at the bar" was simply delicious.
The white tuna appetizer on a buttery broth was delightfully light and rich at the same time. The arctic char entree on a bed of potatoes was bathed in a very similar savory broth that I wish wasn't so similar. The deconstructed strawberry shortcake came with really crusty pastry and would've more accurately been named a pie. Everything was good, but not mind blowing. I would be very interested in coming back and going a la carte.
The toilets that flush "automatically" when you "gently close the lid" to activate the sensors were not as sensational as I imagine the designer had expected. The explanation/instructions are lengthy and in fine print. I doubt most people even bother reading them. There was also no toilet paper, but lots of paper towels strewn all over the floor of the unisex stall.
I'm going to assume that that was just an off night, but Mildred better shape up if I'm going to give her a second chance.