Masraff’s embodies the upmarket experience of the booming late ’80s through mid ’90s, when Asian fusion was hot, seasonality wasn’t a concern, and Dadaist platings were often more impressive than the balance of flavors within. That’s not to say it doesn’t enjoy its merits—in fact, we’ve had a few pretty enjoyable dishes here, and there are private meeting rooms that make it ideal for business functions when you want (or need) dispirited execs to feel like Gordon Gekko.

The space is a little chilly with its high ceilings and contemporary décor; we appreciate when a place takes itself seriously if it amounts to service this professional and a capable kitchen. But even it struggles with this many cross-continental influences: soy glaze is like corn syrup; seared tuna is a little overcooked; and anything advertising truffle comes reeking of the more concentrated oil, rather than the subtler fresh shavings. Your best bet is to order a tasting menu at the chef’s table, where you can get dishes the kitchen’s more excited about making; or enjoy discounted apps like caramelized lamb lollipops in the bar, with nectar-sweet cocktails.

Like the menu, the wine list is a perfunctory study in the varietals and regions that are historically well regarded by diners; as such, it’s pretty négociant-heavy, but you can find some good values in there—just not much personality or a sense of philosophy.