The food at Betty isn’t bad, but it’s just not as exciting as its reputation would imply. The “Betty Burger,” the only regular item on the very small menu, is juicy but bland. It’s automatically served a bloody shade of rare, something of which our panel approves, but if you’re squeamish about raw beef, have a conversation with your server before you order this. Reading the rest of the menu will bore you to tears if you’ve eaten recently at any place with a remotely Northwest agenda—the same old roast chicken with fingerling potatoes, chops of some sort with salsa freaking verde, and English peas snuggling up to everything.

Occasionally, you’ll get something a little more inspired, like rabbit-and-pistachio terrine—a rustic slab of deliciousness wrapped in thick meaty slabs of bacon—or a risotto so creamy that you could use it as conditioner. But we’re not convinced that’s a good thing in this case. Another hit is the delicious chickpea and grilled octopus appetizer.

Betty has a pretty standard interior, with wooden booths, concrete floors, and terrible art on the walls. But if any of that is a deal-breaker, then you might be ill-suited to much of the Seattle restaurant scene.

Betty is content to follow city-wide trends. In fact, the only thing that sets it in stark contrast to its concrete-floored brethren is its awesomely affordable wine list, with good regional and European bottles.