We will grant SFist commenter Jason his "modest, if peevish, request: Can we banish "sleek" from the glossary of decor and fashion terms? Let's keep it to a descriptor of wet otters. Way too 7X7 X SFMag X Surface X Paper X City." God knows no one will ever confuse us with Josh Sens, so we don't want none of that SFMag stuff here.

So Ame, the somewhat new restaurant in the Home of Al Gore, aka. the St Regis hotel, looks like a wet otter, with a see-through wooden partition with wavy patterns that they went to steal at night from the neighboring SFMOMA. Said partition defines a long pathway between an open kitchen where the young crew seems to have some disorganized fun, and a long and narrow dining room facing mission street. It opens up a bit on the Third street side, but we did not explore that area too much.

Picture of Ame from the St Regis web site

See, the atmosphere is a bit stuffy, our table was in the first room, and while probably no one would have cared, it just did not feel right to wander around to catch a peek. We found the atmosphere a bit sterile, in some kind of hushed Hilton lobby way, and it is not really our crowd. We most likely were the youngest people in the dining room by a few years, and we have left our twenties behind a couple years ago. Still, despite the starchy atmosphere, the service was merely okay. We were irked by quite a few mishap for a place that expensive, especially since we were breaking the piggy bank.

Like they could: explain a bit better why they keep us waiting at the host stand and seated some other parties, despite us being on time for our reservation; they could refill water glasses; they could bring butter with the bread without us asking. And if they ask us if they can clear our plate, and we say yes, then take it, don't leave it here just because our date hasn't finished: you've committed to clearing it now.

We bet the bread was previously frozen, a big no-no in our book. It had the telltale signs of an overly crumby crust and a pasty inside. Our waitress was a tad too perky, which verged on the phony, but that's just us being picky. Still, she wished a happy birthday to us early on, which could have made us feel oh-so-special if she had not wrongly wished it to the next table first.

On to the good things: as a pre-dinner libation, we chose the hiro-tini ($12), named after the chef, Hiro Sone. It is a ginger-and-cucumber infused vodka with sake and sugar. One tastes mostly the cucumber, and it is quite a misnomer to derive the name from martini, as it's overly sweet, but we could have downed a few of these. As an aside, are we the only ones who really miss Infusion, a couple blocks away on 2nd, where you could have straight cucumber-flavored vodka?

We split two appetizers, Lissa's staff meal and the Chawan Mushi, both $17, both quite good, and both harboring an exceptionally fresh uni (sea urchin) that we are usually wary about. The staff meal, named after Lissa Doumani, the other half of the brains behind the restaurant, is a pile of cuttlefish noodles with a quail egg and uni on top. The Chawan Mushi is a Japanese savory crème brulée spiked with chunks of lobster meat and sea urchin. Both have very understated flavors, those dishes won't jump at you and grab you by the collar, but therein lies the sophisticated refinement: superb fresh ingredients in a complex yet pure combination.

The entrees had a bit more character. A wagyu beef strip loin with fried miyagi oysters and a tarragon tartare ($36) again featured absolutely splendid ingredients. The full flavor of the really tender meat --it is marbled with fat-- was brought out by a generous pinch of coarse salt, but the beef and the oysters slept in separate bedrooms. Not that we mind, we ate the surf first before moving on to the turf. A grilled scallop and lobster tail in garlic parsley butter ($35) was delicious as well, but a bit too soupy. If only the bread had been good to sop these juices! To be fair to Ame, we did not order the sake marinated Alaskan black cod, which supposedly is their signature dish.

The dessert list is surprisingly boring. We had a "carrot cake/cheese cake??" ($9.50) thinking that the question marks were a hint for a different take on either one. A wink that some deconstruction was about to happen, if you will. But it was a cheesecake on top of a carrot cake. We ate it up, but it wasn't too exciting. The banana rum sundae ($9.50)? Same thing. The ingredients in it were superb, but we felt we could make something similar at home.We were not particularly impressed, there was no wow factor.

Overall, it was a very nice dinner and we enjoyed it quite a lot. Everyone will tell you Ame is French-Japanese fusion, or the other way around, and the ame means rain in Japanese (it also means candy, by the way). In French, however, âme means soul and finding the soul of the place felt like catching a wet otter: it's elusive. Mostly, we think Winterland, with its way more creative menu, its freebies, and its lesser price, has ruined dining out in less inventive fancy places for us. Bill for 2 (food + 3 drinks + tip): $200.

Ame Restaurant
http://www.amerestaurant.com
689 Mission Street,
ph: 284.4040