Not nearly as good as I expected on all counts.
Look, I'm sorry, but when Lynn Crawford's name is tied so closely to a restaurant, you expect to be wowed. Period. Of course my expectations were high, but I ask you: Why shouldn't they have been?
Nice room. Homey yet chic. Refined rustic.
The service was okay - not great. The most frustrating thing about the service was the lack of attention - when a plate or glass sits empty on my table for more than a couple of minutes, I start to get irritated. I got irritated many times during this meal. Also, I couldn't hear the server - especially the expediter (the dude who brought our courses) - I couldn't hear a word he said. I said, "pardon" several times, but he didn't seem to pick up the volume.
The food was just okay, too. The reinvented greek salad with carmalized black olives was quite good. Fresh indeed. Tasty. Enjoyable.
The main course was blah. Blah. Definitely blah. Piri-piri spiced striploin tasted more like salt cured meat. Tender to be sure, but salty as hell. The scalloped potatoes were tasteless. The heirloom carrots were raw. Raw. Not tender-crisp. Raw. The mushrooms were the highlight - a little bowl of varietal mushrooms seasoned well with a topping of cheese (couldn't hear what type of cheese it was, but it was quite nice).
The cheese course was boring. An unimpressive miniature mound of aged white cheddar accompanied with two boring-as-melba toast crisps, and two tablespoon's worth of fired onions. I know how to slow cook onions to a carmelized sweetness - that's all this was. They called it an onion jam. Whatever. The were fried onions.
The hightlight was the dessert. Carrot Cake. Moist and light. Sweet with out triggering a tooth ache.
The point to it all is this - no interest in going back. Been there, done that, skipped buying the T-shirt. Perhaps I caught the kitchen on a bad night, but there are so many other great restaurants in this city, I'm simply not interested in dropping the cash on a gamble.