Will changing lighting schemes, waterfalls, aerialists, stiff drinks, two bars and lots of lounge space overshadow the actual menu? Time will tell.

With a respected chef from Maple Drive and L'Orangerie, there's certainly a pedigree to the Eleven kitchen. Thus, before our visit, we'd expected something like the nearby BIN 8945, which despite some turmoil of late generally enjoys a reputation among foodies from all over the city—not just the neighborhood gay-bar crowd. But upon our arrival, our dining companion for the night (who'd arrived early to have a drink at the bar) pounced with the words "Save me!" The gentleman to his right had forcefully grabbed his neck in an attempt to kiss him, upon which time our friend turned to the gentleman to his left, who promptly and lasciviously announced his ownership of a lubrication enterprise. The time span he was seated at the bar: Roughly 11 minutes. This occurred long before 11pm, when the large, two-story restaurant magically transforms into a pumpkin nightclub, and hence long before too many of the (very strong, very tasty) 11-dollar drinks would in theory be consumed by the rowdy crowd. But in terms of identity, it's early for this long-awaited enterprise, a labor of love for owners Sid Krofft ("H.R. Pufnstuf"!) and Richard Grossi (Easton Gym), and the food is quite good. We recommend the hamachi, the roast chicken, and the rib-eye/braised short rib combo, no less tasty for its sudden ubiquitousness on menus around town. —Lonny Pugh