Erte

Rating:

My friend had a puzzled look on his face. "This place is called 'Erte,' right?" he asked. "So what's with all the Toulouse-Lautrec posters?"

At first I reminded him that his therapist suggested he not be so literal. But then I thought about it. He had a point. Not that I'm a fan of Erte, the art-deco artist, but where are the Erte designs?

Erte the restaurant has no Erte salt-and-pepper dishes, servers wearing Erte T-shirts or really any potentially cloying and obvious decorative elements that owner Ellie Meenan could have installed in her restaurant. Instead, she's wisely kept things pretty simple, hanging a single print in the lobby, discreetly -- and some might say thoughtfully -- out of diners' sightlines. It turns out the name comes from members of Meenan's family who were avid Erte collectors.

The menu isn't so simple. At least to read. Chatty? It's the menu equivalent of an episode of "The West Wing." Some items are saddled with names that no grown-up should ever have to say out loud. Try this: "I'll have the Don't Be a Krab Cake," or "How are the Yamarama Dingdongs?" or "We'd like the Hmmmus." You can't say them without involuntarily grimacing. And silly names often translate into forgettable food.

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