Sitting on the patio as the sun sets over the palm trees on Westheimer, it's easy to see the appeal of the new Up Restaurant.

It's a beautiful view in a city where any view at all is rare. Between the Highland Village trees, the rows of luxury convertibles valet parked below and the preppy, well dressed diners, ascending to the third-floor Up is almost like leaving Houston altogether and finding yourself in Beverly Hills at the height of its early '90s fame. It reminded me of what I imagine the Ivy in Los Angeles to be, with a little Pretty Woman thrown in. (Along with Troop Beverly Hills and Robin Leach, it's my only real cultural reference to high style in that era.)

The look isn't dated or retro or vintage, just a last hurrah of what Audi commercials have dubbed "old luxury," with wood paneling at the entry, recessed seating, a wall-mounted fireplace and a large white marble bar. That's not to say it isn't lovely, particularly when the glare of the sun has abated and the staff draw back the linen shades to display 180 degree views of Highland Village.

The menu, too, seems stuck in the ladies-who-lunch mode of the era; daring, almost, in the sheer lack of risk-taking or creativity. Vaguely New American with some Italian thrown in, it offers a quartet of salads, a few types of pizza and ravioli and a list of entrees that could have come from a focus group: jumbo lump crab cakes, rib eye, veal ossobuco, salmon, and lamb chops among them.

"Who goes out to eat and orders cheese ravioli?" asked my dining partner. People who can, I guess. In a city that has produced Feast, Pondicheri and Bootsie's, this is a different world. But it's not necessarily a bad one.

My ceviche (one of a couple items that winked at modernity, among with a "sushi-grade" tuna tartare) was absolutely full of seafood — shrimp, scallops, and fish alike — with just enough citrus juice and onion to remind you what you're eating. It was hearty and tasty, but as time went on I craved more fresh citrus and spice to counter the fishy flavor.

I went for the short rib pizza, with short rib meat, fontina, caramelized onions and a bed of arugula on a house-made, foccacia-like crust. The sweet flavors of the fontina, beef and onions were strong but the fresh arugula was a good counterbalance for the respectable if mediocre pie.

The red fish filet was my favorite offering, though it was also the simplest. It was prepared well and flavored by a citrus butter sauce and all the lemon juice I could wring out. It was delicious, but certainly no competition for the version at, say, Eddie V's. On a whim I asked for the Yukon gold mashed potatoes as a side and was stunned when they had been piped into rows on the plate, a presentation I've heard of but never actually seen.

For the crowd that Up is courting — River Oaks types who want comfortable surroundings and familiar food served a certain way — this place could be everything they want and more. It's not the place I would pick to satisfy culinary cravings, but when I think back on that breezy patio and the purple sunset over the palm trees, a bottle of wine and some cheese ravioli at Up doesn't seem like such a bad idea.