Lucy’s Table is unnervingly quiet. There’s absolutely no music, and everyone speaks in hushed tones. It’s also kept really dark, with heavy velvet drapes and small votives on each table. To some people, this might make for an ideal date situation, but we think it’s a spectacular place to wait out a migraine. Or grieve.

If it seems that the entire restaurant has taken a monastic vow of silence, that may be because of the religious experience afforded by a small plate of goat cheese ravioli bathed in brown butter; the only racket associated with Lucy’s tends to revolve around singing its praises. And for good reason: the pasta is ideally toothsome, with plenty of savory, creamy goat cheese in every bite. The brown butter is gently sweet and nutty, complementing the tart chèvre.

Other than that, we’re lukewarm on the food here. The menu has always seemed somewhat geriatric compared to others in town. While the whippersnappers are cooking nose-to-tail dishes, dabbling in organ meats, and curing their own charcuterie with a punk-rock fervor, Lucy’s is like the grande dame looking dazed and wondering what’s so wrong with just being nice. Not much, it turns out, but it’s still got that high-school-prom feel, or like this is an ideal place to take the in-laws.

A recent chef change hasn’t yet improved what has long been a disjointed, vaguely Mediterranean-influenced program. Pomegranate-glazed ribs are hard to argue with, not too sickly sweet and cooked to a docile texture. Expertly cooked halibut is paired with pork belly. But some clumsy moves are still made here, like watery bruschetta; poorly shucked oysters; and a decidedly un-paella-ish rabbit paella with Arborio rice, haricots verts, currants, and fennel. By this loose definition, they may as well call it risotto.

One of the best things about Lucy’s Table is its excellent wine list, which combines extraordinarily low markups with wonderful breadth across regions and grape varietals. Tourino Notarpanaro from Puglia in southern Italy for $27, for instance, is one of the best wine buys in the city.

We recommend coming for happy hour, which is endearingly called “Social Hour”—it offers some great deals on food and a more lively crowd. If you plan to come later in the night, make a reservation; if it’s slow, the kitchen will start closing down as early as 9pm. Ultimately, this is a decent restaurant without any compelling reason to keep you coming back.