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EIGHT WINE BAR

8 Colborne St.,Toronto.

416-350-8188 Dinner for two with wine, tax and tip, $140.

Toronto scenesters are a confusing bunch. When Doku 15 opened in the Cosmopolitan Hotel on Colborne Street, I thought it would prosper. I hated it, because of the bad Japanese food, but it was ultra-cool-looking, in a post-industrial minimalist downtown way, which seems to work. But Doku 15 flunked out and the hotel has reimagined the space as Eight Wine Bar.

The very downtown people at Eight cluster noisily around low tables at the bar - which you walk through to get to the restaurant - nibbling on artisanal cheeses after work. The look of the restaurant seems to have changed since it was Doku, but careful inspection reveals that what they mostly did was change the colour. Given that the dining room is a sensuous wash of colour, that's significant. What was previously almost lurid purple is now more restrained amber and red: amber crescent sconces, dozens of blown glass amber hanging lights shaped like light boxes, and red light bathing the wrought-iron curlicues on the ceiling.

The service veers wildly from neglectful to fawning. On both visits, nobody offers to take our coats until we thrust them in their direction. One evening, with the dining room less than half full, we wait almost half an hour for bread and wine, and when I ask our server questions, he brushes me off, muttering about other tables requiring attention. But two other servers deliver food with a flourish. Go figure.

Our first dinner is the epitome of pleasure, a luscious romp through a lexicon of iconic comfort foods. The mini-burgers (all the rage today) are much better than the average burger - the Kobe beef with caramelized onion and melted brie is an embarras de richesses. Mini lamb burger is full-flavoured and nicely spiked with lightly curried mango chutney. Buffalo burger is all sweet smoke, thanks to barbecue sauce and bacon.

Chef Derek Kennedy reinvents shepherd's pie using port and orange-scented duck confit instead of plain beef, resulting in a culinary workhorse with a bright new taste. He also turns his renovator's eye to tater tots, an unfortunate industrial-food invention that gets a whole new life at Eight - creamy house-made mashed potatoes studded with ham and perfectly deep-fried in a piquant cheddar crust.

Five-spice oxtail ravioli also get a bold rethink, thanks to their cinnamon undertone and the clever match of chewy king mushrooms with al dente pasta. Even insalata caprese, the most-often botched item on tables today, gets invigorated by using charred tomatoes which have (somewhat) more flavour than raw tomatoes because (a) water loss due to charring intensifies flavour and (b) charring caramelizes sugars in the tomato, which sweetens it. Even roast chicken gets more taste traction than usual: It's perfectly cooked, moist and plump, with crisp skin. For dessert that evening, there is more eloquently revisioned comfort food. Deep dark brownies slathered with caramel sauce, and oozing butter tarts with drunken raisins in short crust.

We return to Eight, taste buds a-tingle in anticipation of a delicious reprise, only to have our hopes sorely dashed. Is the chef Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde? Blinis - tiny pancakes that are traditionally served freshly risen like little clouds, straight from the pan - are served cold and ... flat. The $24 barely seared sliced tuna sits in a bath of soy-ginger sauce so strong and acrid that all tuna taste is obscured. Lobster Caesar for $35 is slightly overcooked chunks of cold lobster atop pedestrian Caesar salad, which, in turn, sits on an inexplicably greasy piece of mystery toast. If so-called pan-seared black cod has actually been seared, we can't tell because the fish arrives drowned in a bowl of mediocre fish stock with shreds of overcooked carrots.

But the final insult to some of the great comfort foods of our time is the "ultimate mac and cheese." Let me first confess my bias. I adore mac and cheese (both baked and not, homemade or industrial). During my annual summer hiatus from eating in fancy restos, I sometimes close the curtains, make an entire box of President's Choice mac and cheese, and consume all of it. I taught my kids to make mac and cheese with homemade béchamel and sharp cheddar before they went to kindergarten. Despite my catholic tastes in mac and cheese, Eight's version leaves me cold: Not enough cheddar in the sauce for flavour, and even worse, it's been put in a mould "for 24 hours," says the server proudly, and then rolled in way too much panko crumbs and deep-fried. The result: hard and dry, almost to its heart.

Methinks this is Mr. Hyde's night on the town.

Big Cheese Ontario's fledgling artisanal cheese community is holding a cheese conference on April 28 at Hart House on the University of Toronto campus. That day, from 6 to 9 p.m., it is hosting a public cheese tasting and market, where local artisanal cheese-makers will offer tastings and sell their cheeses. Tickets are $30 each.

http://www.ontariocheese.org