Siren, Auckland CBD

Siren’s lamb loin, baba ghanouj, char-grilled vegetable stack with parsnip straws and raspberry jus. Picture / Carolyn Robertson

Herald rating: * * * 1/2

Before Siren was Siren it was Paramount and very nice it was too, in a restrained and elegant sort of way. Now it's red, as befits its new name, inside and out with red walls and music that had me seeing red.

"What's that awful thump, thump, thump music?" I asked the Television Critic, loudly enough that the waiter could hear. "It's for young people, dear," he shouted. "Well," I grouched, "there aren't any young people here and if I wanted to listen to that awful stuff I'd have stayed home and listened to the awful neighbours." The thumping was replaced with slightly less offensive thumping.

Apparently the owner has a record label of the same name. It's creating a brand or something, said our waiter.

She was very good and offered to take the TC's tortellini back to the kitchen when I complained that they were tough and appeared not to have been cooked. He said he'd carry on because I was already shovelling my very good duck breast down my throat to avoid sharing it.

She said later that the kitchen had said the problem with the pasta was that it hadn't been rolled out thinly enough, and they'd try this in future. Fair enough, I said. They didn't take the tortellini off the bill. I think they should have really, given that the plate was returned to them sans stuffing of chicken and baby leek but with the pasta otherwise untouched.

The TC had been somewhat consoled in advance by a terrifically good entree of prawn-and-corn risotto with basil-Pernod butter, which sounds as though it shouldn't have worked but really did. I'm ashamed to admit that I had a vegetarian entree - know thy enemy, is my excuse - and it was bloody great. It was a little stack of meaty field mushrooms with two tiny blue-cheese and pear beignets and some rocket with a walnut vinaigrette. But what is this vogue for serving people stalks? It's quite easy to nip the stalky ends off things like rocket.

Nothing wrong with the duck, as I've said. It came on a ginger rosti, which was a clever thing: tangy and stodgy. Heaven.

On to pud. I really wanted the potato doughnuts with roast-apple ice cream but I'd already had the beignets, which are just posh doughnuts. I had them anyway. They were wonderful - small, lovely, sugary and cinnamonny. And since they are really vegetables, they were bound to be health-giving. He had chocolate eclairs, which were soggy.

It was a bit of a mad dinner that appeared to have been cooked by a kitchen staff in thrall to strange mood swings. I blame the music, which had all the appeal of well, a siren. But I'm giving them an extra half a point for those doughnuts.

Address: 36 Lorne St, City

Ph: 377 9973

Open: Tuesday to Friday for lunch, Tuesday to Saturday for dinner

Owner: Adrien De Croy

Head chef: Stuart Rogan

Wine list: Small but reasonable selection by the glass; small but lively selection by the bottle

From the menu: Fiore de latte mozzarella, soused beetroot, turnips, home-dried vine tomatoes ($17/$27.50); crisp skin salmon, guacamole, cabernet verjuice, kaffir lime dressing, ($28); iced passionfruit pineapple terrine with melon, peach grape salad, raspberry coulis ($12.50.)

Vegetarian: Let them eat fried zucchini blossoms, goat's cheese ricotta with ratatouille and mashed basil - unless I get there before them.

Bottom line: Great service, food that swings wildly from very good to very disappointing.