Philadelphia Weekly

Hotel dining, though often disappointing, can at times be transcendent. At the Four Seasons you'll find superior food. And back in the day, from burgers to clam chowder, the humble Howard Johnson was known for its affordable quality fare. There was a good reason it had such a fine reputation. Jacques P�pin--formerly the personal chef to French president Charles DeGaulle--was HoJo's corporate chef in the 1960s.

Unfortunately, tasty but inexpensive hotel food is increasingly a thing of the past. If you're like most of us, you're not staying at the Ritz. Maybe Motel 6. Or a Holiday Inn where--in an evil nexus of cross-branding--you might be subjected to the nightmare of an on-site TGI Friday's (as I was at a Holiday Inn in Wilkes-Barre last year).

Then there's that great middle ground of mediocrity, where Citygrange--the new fresh 'n' local, farm-forward and allegedly foodie-centric restaurant in the Westin--squats on its irritating corporate haunches, spinning twee commentary on its menu about how it feels "a little warm bread and room temperature butter can cure almost anything."

Citygrange is a good idea in theory--a hotel restaurant that attempts to use fresh, local and thoughtfully sourced ingredients rather than relying entirely on a chain of suppliers dictated from corporate command. That's laudable. But there's more to good food than good purveyors. You can have all the fresh, local and thoughtfully sourced ingredients you want, but you still have to prepare them so they taste good.

Take for example the bread, which arrives in a wooden box. The sourdough and multigrain breads are warm and soft, the butter the same. They're accompanied in the box by peeled carrots, a whole plum and a whole pear. What are we supposed to do with the fruit? Slice it ourselves with our dull butter knives? We can ooh and aah over the farm-fresh presentation, but what real purpose does it serve?

The pot roast is another puzzler--advertised as "slow-cooked, lazy and fall-apart good." I'm not sure how a pot roast can be lazy. Does it come from a no-good, lay-about cow that neglected to free-range to its full potential?

It might've been slow-cooked, but it's definitely not falling apart--or good. Thick slices of beef are chewy, dry and unpleasantly dense under a heavy gravy as sugary-sweet as candied fruit. Allegedly caramelized heirloom potatoes and carrots are dried out and flavorless.

The promising pork chop is also dense and chewy, smarting under a too-tangy cider glaze with raisins and diced bell peppers. A side dish of macaroni and cheese, despite its well-intentioned use of local cheeses, is terrible. Delve past the crispy breadcrumb top and you'll find bland elbow macaroni with very little cheese (and no evidence of bechamel) sitting in a puddle of oil.

A green bean side dish (a twist on the Campbell's classic casserole) is better, with crisp beans in a savory mushroom sauce topped with delicate, crisp onion rings.

"Salt and pepper" fried calamari are tasty--crunchy on the outside and pliable on the inside--but bear no evidence of salt or pepper. A crab cake appetizer paired with (very) sweet tomato jam is appropriately full of crab but could use more crispness on the outside to hold it together.

What to make of the "low-country corn fritters" topped with a maple syrup-sweetened glaze? They're packed with sweet kernels and bear evidence of contact with a hot pan on the outside, but inside the buttermilk batter runs all over the plate. Too bad, since these have potential.

Also not cooked all the way through are the cubed vegetables in an otherwise appealing chicken pot pie under a flaky thyme-scented crust.

A free-range, hormone-free filet from Meyer Ranch in Montana has solid, beefy flavor and is cooked to a proper medium-rare but needs a thorough salting.

I'm not sure how you can screw up a milkshake, but a chocolate mint version is as runny as a glass of skim milk and as powerfully herbaceous as chewing on a sprig of mint. Better to opt for a homestyle apple and blueberry cobbler.

Better yet, opt for dinner somewhere that can execute as well as it can source and spin.

Citygrange
Westin Hotel, 99 S. 17th St. 215.575.6930. www.citygrange.com
Cuisine: Farm-forward.
Hours: Sun.-Sat., 6:30-10:30am, 11:30am-2pm and 5:30-10pm.
Prices: $6-$34.
Sound advice: Merciless modern muzak.
Atmosphere: Hotel elegance.
Service: Pleasant but not smooth.
Food: Farm-flop.