“Everything here’s local and organic!” cooed the cheery hostess and the waiter, who echoed the farm-to-table credos emblazoned on the menus and literature throughout the restaurant.
A local peach just before Halloween? I wondered as I saw him lean in for a bite. His disappointed eyes told the story.
If his was anything like our peach, it was as ripe as a rock, and as unyielding to the promise of seasonal goodness as the rest of this menu, which details in such poetry the provenance of every morsel you’d think you were eating at Chez Panisse. In fact, the down-home ingredients and supposedly updated comfort foods here are subjected to so much mediocre cooking that a meal at City Grange would make even a world-weary traveler more cynical.