Drab blue carpeting and dated, steak house–style chairs make this cavernous room feel more like a banquet hall than a grand church. A practitioner of molecular gastronomy, chef Amédé Lamarche occasionally dazzles; however, the kitchen stumbles in executing his ambitious, often overly complicated ideas. A foie gras and ham hock terrine juxtaposes silky fat and smoky meat; pickled honey mushrooms are a nice addition, but truffle butter pushes the luxe factor a little too far. Sweetbreads are creamy with a reduction of milk and licorice. A touch of honey gelée elevates the tiny lobes nicely, but as the night unfolds there’s more Jell-O here than in a hospital cafeteria—nearly every plate brings some sort of gelée. Rabbit yields uneven results: a Thai-spiced sugar cane satay with green curry consommé is superb, but the Lilliputian rack next to it, though painstakingly frenched, is overcooked and dry. A tower of puffed quinoa and muesli with toasted barley ice cream is an unfortunately bland finish. Riedel stemware complements a wine list that matches every dish by the glass. Friendly, efficient service. Mains $32–$39.