Nearly two decades on, Mark McEwan’s uptown flagship still radiates cool, uncomplicated comfort, a beacon to out-of-towners and the city’s deep-pocketed elite. The beige walls are enlivened by the dapple of upswept lights; the service seems tuned precisely to require as little of diners’ attention as possible. Tableside banter is kept to a minimum, and waiters double as sommeliers. Yet what the room lacks in excitement it recoups with often excellent, though distinctly unchallenging cooking. Cured sea trout—a farmed, ruby-fleshed fish that’s a fixture on all of McEwan’s menus—is thinly sliced and tastes delicate, beautifully accoutred with whisper-thin blini, crème fraîche and sturgeon caviar. Subtle duck consommé is ladled at the table over a shallow bed of chopped wild mushrooms, morsels of duck and shaved black summer truffle—a touch more flavour wouldn’t hurt. Something-for-everyone (except vegetarians, that is) mains run from butter-braised lobster to roasted artisan chicken from Quebec to a 22-ounce rib-eye. Roasted squab is a standout, the skin mahoganied and deliciously salty, the flesh juicy and amply flavoured. Though desserts feature the odd exotic ingredient—the intriguing liloko’i (Hawaiian for “passion fruit”), for instance—the sweets carte mostly plies the tried and true: peanut butter brûlée or perhaps a dryish lemon napoleon, plus cheeses, ably served, from Cheese Boutique. The wine list, stocked with the best of Italy and France and impressive verticals from such California cult wineries as Groth and Caymus, also offers many bottles for under $40. Mains $39–$49.