If there's been one overall food trend in the past decade, I would say that it is the introduction of great food into casual spaces. Gastropubs, gastrocantinas, food trucks, gastrotrucks — it's never been easier to eat well for less money or with less pretense.

Well, if every action has an equal and opposite reaction, then I think the debut of The Capitol at St. Germain, a refurbished supper club in a century-old building in downtown Houston, is the result of the casual-ification of food culture.

With a spacious (and popular) bar area, a large stage area that features everything from swing music to R&B to African singer-songwriters, and a stunning black-and-white dining with 50-foot ceilings, Capitol is certainly elegant, but it's not overly formal. This isn't the kind of fancy that means five-star, Da Marco service or waiters in tailcoats. It's less about being upscale than being pleasant on all the senses, a sybaritic experience.

Dining during a blues set is undeniably enjoyable, but it's just loud enough to make me happy to be ensconced in one of the large, semi-circular booths, perfect for cozy conversation or closing deals. I do feel a bit like I'm in an episode of Mad Men, but luckily the menu here, while not exactly breaking any new ground, is certainly not stuck in the 1960s, either.

I started off with some truffle chips, light and crispy potato chips topped with parmesan and a mercifully light hint of white truffle. The mix of crispy, salty and sweet was slightly addictive, if not particularly substantial. Much more impressive was an incredible housemade pretzel, thick and doughy and served straight, more like a bread stick than a curlicued version.

Some of the small bites work better than others. The bison "bites," or miniature meatballs, suffer from a lack of seasoning and the dry nature of the protein, and aren't improved by a marinara sauce that's overly sweet. The duck breast medallions, on the other hand, are rich, tender and served simply.

The crab cakes (I'm sorry, crab "bombs") earn plaudits for a high ratio of crab to breading — the seared carbs really did just seem to be there to hold the cake together — and the plate was lightened up by a duo of (edible) flowers over the remoulade sauce, though I chose to wear rather than eat them.

The adorably named "Ménage A Fois" is a pretty serving of foie gras three ways: seared over a fig compote, in a traditional torchon and in a fried "sphere" that's suspiciously similar to the foie gras bon bons served at Catalan once upon a time, even down to the server instructions on how to eat it (all at once, no biting).

Had I never had Chris Shepherd's juicy, blueberry compote-stuffed bon bons, I would probably be raving about Capital's version, but as it is the sphere (which was the best of the three takes) just seemed like a pale imitation.

There have been a lot of exciting new food destinations opening up in Houston, and The Capitol at St Germain isn't on their level in terms of excitement and execution. It's promising and certainly inoffensive, delicious and beautifully presented at times, but critically lacking in originality and focus.

The blues are pretty good though.