Oozing with pretense seems to be a lease requirement in the Galleria’s BLVD Place (which also houses that overpriced opera buffa RDG), as exemplified by Phillipe’s menu of annoying, unhelpful doublespeak like “Contained Decadence” (pots of brioche spreads), “Satisfaction…Guaranteed” (this one baffles us: are the other items on the menu not guaranteed?), and “Unrestrained” (again, the suggestion is unnerving). The absolute limit, however, is the “art menu,” which provides information on the (albeit lovely) art on the walls. The minimalist, striking décor works another gallery of sorts, one that showcases the gussied-up clientele.

If you enjoy such charades (it does feel like a real night out), you’re in luck: the food can be quite good. A “contained” venison pâté with bright mustard and house-pickled vegetables is terrific; “Au Naturel” (doubly pomped as “naked”) tuna is a fun edible margarita with a bath in tequila, Cointreau, and orange zest; and classic, comforting French dishes like beef cheeks invoke a briskety Texan essence. Mac and cheese is drowning in truffle oil, though; time to retire that old culinary mare. A Southwestern spin on the Caesar, with skirt steak and cactus, is nice, but avoid a po’ boy (here a “rich boy”—sigh) with over-battered shrimp. While the wine list offers some of the world’s best under-hyped bottles, the inclusion of stylistically generic “familiar” wine is distracting, and the staff’s not much help. Perhaps some Orwellian subtitles will help.