Chef Mike Preston throws a flatbread pizza into the oven at Murrieta's West Coast Bar and Grill.

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Murrieta's Bar & Grill

There are those who would fault a restaurant for the enthusiastic volume of its patrons. Me? Never. In the presence of friends, wine and good food, I’m kind of loud myself.

It’s a chilly Friday evening, but warm and seasonally cheerful inside the historic stonewalls of Murietta’s West Coast Bar and Grill. The old Alberta Hotel is an undeniably great spot for a restaurant and lounge. The antique architecture and high ceilings practically force the food and drink to live up to the building’s seasoned expectations.

An empty bottle of La Crema 2008 pinot noir ($71.31) sits at the end of the table as a toast to the birthday girl precedes the almost surreptitious arrival of appetizers at our table of six. How could I not order warm phyllo pastry-wrapped goat cheese ($14.91) under these convivial conditions? A thick spoonful of jammy, nutty, house-made chutney tops golden layers of phyllo like the pompom on a toque. Its cheese filling has been dying to meet said chutney. And they do get on. The chaperone of this little party plate is a mixed salad with its own hint of sweet dressing.

After enjoying the precise decadence of my own appetizer, I try my wife’s first course — seared Quebec foie gras ($21.23). Like the goat cheese phyllo, this dish plays sweet upon savoury with a touch of green (pea shoots) for crisp assist. Firm, but not overcooked, the foie gras is lovingly seared. The accompanying toasted brioche is good but could be twice as large. The plate is dressed with a sauce of Saskatoon jelly and chocolate balsamic crema. Made using unsweetened chocolate, this sauce is rich, but lets the foie gras do the talking.

Advised to order the duo of lamb ($38.87) medium rare, I’ve done so. Good decision. The plate holds three grilled rack chops leaned casually on the restaurant’s daily vegetable selection: spaghetti squash, broccolini and parsnip purée. The chops are medium rare as advertised, juicy and bursting with flavour.

Opposite the chops sits a lamb torchon. What appears to be a solid cut of meat is a dense pulled-lamb mixture. This package consists of braised lamb shoulder, bacon and potato filling wrapped cylindrically with prosciutto and thinly sliced potato. Its round top-end darkly seared, the torchon looks like a tightly wound beef Wellington.

With its supermodel complexion, this duo appears to have gotten lost on its way to a fine-dining photo shoot. This is easily one of the best dishes I’ve eaten in 2010.

My wife’s West Coast bouillabaisse ($25.97) has likewise drawn compliments from the table for its golden sunset beauty. Islands in the saffron-tomato broth, the bouillabaisse’s hearty contents are a clear challenge for a lone diner. Included are the daily fish (mahi mahi and salmon), prawn, scallops and mussels. Add to this a julienne of vegetables that includes red pepper, red onion, celery, leeks and fennel. Subbing in for French bread, the dish’s starch component is half a cellar’s worth of fingerling potatoes. Though their awesomeness is lost on my potato-averse wife, they nicely complement the meaty seafood ingredients, which are infused with the tangy flavour of the broth.

The laughter and the clatter kicks up a notch as our party completes its main course dishes. The flamboyantly attired Sonny Rhodes Blues Band takes the floor with a warm-up set of buttery southern blues. “This is what I call belly rubbin’ music,” says Rhodes’s zoot-suited lead guitarist. True that.

Wearing a fire-engine red suit and black top hat, 70-year-old Rhodes, legendary Texas blues man and lap steel guitarist, takes centre stage and the evening is in full party mode as the dance floor fills.

The glass room divider slides shut on the back half of the room, allowing folks there to continue their quiet conversations. This half of the room, however, is in high spirits as dessert arrives.

I’ve ordered the root beer float ($9.81). The float gets high marks for adventurousness and degree of complexity, however, I’m not taken with its taste. The shot glass full of sweet root beer is almost enough for me at the end of such a big meal. But it’s not just the sheer volume of the dessert that gets me. The batter on the ice cream fritter is a bit heavy and the short stack of fudge brownie fingers that supports it isn’t sweet enough to compete with the rest of the dish.

Root beer float aside, our evening at Murrieta’s was spot on. Our polite and professional servers knew their stuff and offered helpful suggestions. The meal was well paced and we were checked upon frequently. The food was great, the wine was very fine and, yes, it got enthusiastically loud. Which was fine by me.