Winged Lion Elegant, Extravagant, Disappointing

I expected the food to soar at The Winged Lion. For a set price of $65 a person, I hoped it would be heavenly.

Unfortunately, it never quite got off the ground.

The Winged Lion is Spokane’s newest and, arguably, its most elegant dining room. Jackets are required for men, the prix-fixe menu is classic French and the service is formal.

And did I mention, it’s tres, tres expensive?

The Winged Lion is, indeed, the most expensive restaurant in Spokane, with prices that are comparable to the spendiest dining rooms on the West Coast. At $65 a dinner, it has put itself in the same league as Rover’s in Seattle, the famed French Laundry in Napa Valley and Fleur de Lys in San Francisco, three of the most renowned French restaurants in this part of the world.

This is ultra-exclusive company. And while a meal at one of those restaurants certainly comes with some sticker shock, the stunning food makes the splurge easier to swallow.

If you’re going to charge the same price as those highly regarded French restaurants, you had better deliver the goods. And, sadly, The Winged Lion does not.

Located off the lobby of The Kempis Hotel Suites, The Winged Lion does make a dramatic first impression.

The dining room is a cozy space filled with gorgeous antiques. A fresco adorns the ceiling. The place settings are exquisite, with signature china and sparkling flatware. Classical music provides a fitting backdrop for the setting. Even the white linen tablecloth has a lovely, rich texture.

On a recent evening, service was gracious and attentive. You couldn’t take a sip of water without someone topping off your glass.

For this traditional French restaurant, the owners hired a chef with some impressive credentials.

Jonathan Studley grew up in New York, where his parents owned a restaurant called La Colombe d’Or. He has worked for Hilton Hotels, Windows on the World and a resort in the Hamptons, owned by his parents. He’s worked overseas and received the honorary title of master chef. His last gig was as executive chef at a restaurant on Maui called The Rusty Harpoon.

Our evening started with a soft-spoken waiter walking us through the menu shortly after we arrived. A native-born Russian, his pronunciation of the French dishes deserves special praise.

The six-course meal started with a bite-sized “gift from the chef.” It was a small piece of gravlax (Scandinavian-style cured salmon) tucked into a round of puff pastry for an elegant package. The plate was decorated with a balsamic vinegar syrup and capers. It was a fine start to the meal.

Everyone gets the same soup and salad course as determined by the chef, but diners select an entree from a list of five choices that included duck, free-range chicken stuffed with morel mushrooms and handmade ravioli.

The first course that evening was sauteed escargot nestled in field greens dressed in a balsamic vinaigrette. The escargot were tender and garlicky.

A rich almond soup followed. Its creamy base served as a backdrop for crunchy bits of toasted nuts that gave the soup an unusual, beguiling texture.

The momentum of the meal stopped cold with the entrees, though.

My venison filets were tender and cooked medium rare, which I liked. But the meat tasted flat, with none of the wild, rustic flavor I associate with venison.

And the sauce contained crushed pineapple, which detracted from the subtle seasonings. The pineapple wasn’t mentioned on the menu. Had it been, it would have made a difference in what I ordered.

The plate was also garnished with slices of pineapple topped with what looked and tasted like canned cranberry sauce. It seemed an odd combination.

The foie gras ravioli that accompanied the dish were undercooked and chewy. Also, the presence of pate was difficult to discern.

I sampled the bouillabaisse and was disappointed with the quality of the fish. This seafood stew contained a very large cherrystone clam, salmon, mussels, lobster, shrimp, swordfish and monkfish.

The fin fish had a mushy texture and tasted less than fresh. The small lobster tail had a faint flavor of the freezer.

The saffron-spiked broth in which the mixture was simmered was salty, and the taste of shells used in the stock was overpowering.

A tart grapefruit and gin sorbet was a welcome palate cleanser.

At other French restaurants I’ve enjoyed, the cheese course preceded the dessert. As I understand it, the cheese is meant to jump-start the digestive process and prime the palate for the sweets to follow.

At The Winged Lion, desserts were served before the cheese.

There were two sweets offered. A chocolate cake with a chestnut mousse and a ginger apple tart with housemade ice cream. The best thing about both was the pretty presentation. The strong flavor of ginger overwhelmed the fruit. And the mousse that accompanied the forgettable cake was bland.

Finally, the cheese course struck a nice balance with a selection of creamy, tangy goat cheese and robust bleu. A perfectly poached pear was a fine complement to the full flavors of the cheese.

I knew the bill would be hefty, and with a bottle of wine and the 18 percent gratuity added on, it was an eye-popping $208 for two.

I wanted to say: Show me the money. Where were the little luxurious tidbits - the dollop of caviar or the sliced truffles - that might help justify the tab?

I returned a few nights later to try the slightly more casual fare in the restaurant’s inviting lounge.

And, again, I was disappointed.

I ordered a $12 onion tart, which the menu described as being built on a fresh herb crust. What showed up on my plate was more a pizza than a tart. The flavors were out of whack, too, with every bite overpowered by briny anchovy.

A coq au vin was slightly more successful, with a fine, rich red wine sauce. However, the chicken - a leg and a thigh - was far from falling off the bone. And the flavor of the sauce had not permeated the meat, as you would expect in this kind of braised dish.

The portion was on the light side for $21.

The coq au vin was described on the menu as coming with a house-baked baguette, but no bread materialized until we asked our server. And then, it was just a rather ordinary roll.

Even under the best circumstances, I wonder whether a spendy prix-fixe restaurant can make a go of it in Spokane. Only a small segment of the population can pick up such an extravagant check.

But even if price weren’t a consideration, I still would find very little - beyond the gracious service and the splendid surroundings - to recommend The Winged Lion.