The slick interior is a set piece of LA cool. But has style superseded substance? A recent visit was marred by sloppy execution, beginning with a crab cake so flavorless that it might have been a chicken patty and ending with a plate of monkfish so uninspired as to engender fantasies of a burger from Houston’s across the street. Janelle Birdsall’s desserts were excellent. Too bad she recently left the restaurant.
This review appeared in the August, 2008 issue of The Washingtonian.
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