JP is cool, but James's Gate will leave you cold.

I know it's probably inappropriately immodest for me to say so, but I am truly a human database for Boston restaurants. Having had evening plans with a colleague cancel at the last minute, I found myself heading home tonight with no plan for what to have for dinner. Spending a good chunk of my commute on the Jamaicaway (not to mention dodging rubber-neckers checking out the "Christmas House"), I thought that it might be fun to grab a meal in JP. On route, I called Paul and checked in - his request? Fish & Chips (how a foodie married a Brit who thinks ketchup is its own food group could the subject of its own blog). Well, the ones and zeros whirred away in the mental database and spit out its input - James's Gate. We'd had dinner there once before with some friends. I didn't remember much about our meal, but I did remember that it had a good pub-y atmosphere, so it seemed liked a sure bet for decent fish & chips.

I really love JP. It's diverse and urban and full of good range of people. Plus, there's tons of great little places to eat. However, tonight, JP was testing my last nerve. I was a little on edge already after a stressful day at work. By the time we circled three times for street parking and ended up parking four blocks away on a chilly night, the edge had become a cliff. So James's Gate had a tall order to get me mentally back on track. On the first pass, it failed... the bar is totally mobbed and there are no available tables. Luckily, we can see that across the bar is more of a restaurant area with open tables. Strangely, you need to actually exit the bar and walk to a separate entrance to get there. Once inside, my mood brightens considerably - the host is friendly and attentive and the warm-hued interior is decorated with local art.

I should have known that the food was going to be a challenge as soon as we got the menus. There were two. The pub menu and the restaurant menu. Some of the same items appeared on both, but largely they offered two completely different styles of food. Strike one: I am totally confused and overwhelmed by the options. I seriously don't get how restaurants don't understand a simple fact: If your kitchen staff doesn't rival the ranks of the armed forces, keep your menu to a manageable few items that you can do really well. Sigh.

The quiet, but sweet waitress takes our drink orders quickly and I am soon fortified by a really good glass of Huia Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. My feelings continued to improve as we are brought a basket of hearty, crusty wheat bread and a dish of dozens of Kalamata and Spanish olives in a spicy olive oil. I loooove olives. We ordered the "Gate Plate" for an appetizer (my fail-safe strategy when I am menu-challenged is to order the "signature dish") and it arrives quickly. The Gate Plate is a sampling of smoked salmon, smoked trout, rare pepper-crusted Ahi tuna strips, served with slices of tomatoes, red onions, fresh mozzarella over a bed of mixed greens and sprinkled with capers. It also came with a side of sour cream and mustard. Ok. This is perhaps the weirdest combination of food I've ever eaten at one time and I would not say it exactly "worked" all together, but the individual elements were tasty and well-done. The smoked trout, in particular, was a standout.

While I was enjoying the appetizer well enough, the course ended on a sour note. Strike two: The chef brought our entrees out while we were only mid-way through our appetizers, and stood there staring at us (as they always do when this happens) as if to say, "um, these are hot, could you hurry along?!" We were forced to move our own dishes out of the way to make room for the unwelcome next course and, naturally, none of the appetizer plates were cleared away since they were still full of food. This is, hands down, one of my biggest restaurant pet peeves. Seriously, people, you are a professional establishment for serving dinner. How about you actually check out where the diners are with their previous course before heading out with a new pile of food? If I wanted meals timed this poorly, I could have stayed home.

Paul, of course, got an order of fish & chips. I had selected the pork shank braised in Magners. Seriously, pork & hard cider, how could this go wrong? Oh, James's Gate. First of all, the shank was huge! However, I was assured by the chef that - aside from the bone not being a good option to bring home to my dog (um, ok? I don't have a dog.) - the meat would just "fall right off the bone." Hardly. The meat was dry and tough, fatty and tasteless. The Magners sauce was fruity and would have been a nice compliment to good pork. Too bad. The mashed potatoes and roasted root vegetable sides were fine, but unremarkable. The fish & chips fared a little better, with salty, dark brown fries and flaky moist fish. But even this dish suffered from an overly thick - almost tempura-like - batter, as well as lifeless cole slaw.

Once we'd eaten enough of our dinners to confirm definitively that they were not good, we put our silverware to the side to indicate that we were done. Strike three: And then we waited. And waited. A good ten minutes later, our plates were finally cleared by a busboy and, a few minutes more still, our waitress came by to inquire, "all set? Should I bring the check? Oh, did you want dessert?" Double sigh. I was done with James's Gate, but unable to quench my foodieness, I succumbed to at least looking at the dessert menu. Nothing. Not a single thing that even tempted me. Not even the "chocolate carrot cake." Huh? Yeah, I didn't think so.

I'd give James's Gate at 5-11 McBride Street in Jamaica Plain a D. Want good Irish fare? The database says, head to Matt Murphy's in Brookline.