The Grill on the Alley, a Beverly Hills landmark and growing chain that opened a link at Aventura Mall late last year, has that cozy, retro, supper-club feel down pat. Coffee-colored leather banquettes, curvy Deco fixtures and waiters in trim-fitting white jackets contribute to the dapper feel. Unfortunately, the fare is more off-the-rack than bespoke.

The Grill's interpretation of American classics includes lots of burgers and chops, steaks and butter-sauced fish, ribs and creamy pastas, onion rings and potatoes sliced, diced and spiced every which way. We relied on our enthusiastic young waiters and the vast menu's "signature specials" for a read on what they do best. Not surprisingly, the choicest choices are from the grill.

A perfectly fine boneless rib-eye and a juicy prime New York steak (both nicely butchered 16-ouncers) were competently seasoned and seared, but lacked real depth of flavor. Likewise, a double-cut Kurobuta pork chop was sawdusty. A platter of bony short ribs in a sauce as thick and dark as chocolate pudding hid a bunch of salty, mushy root vegetables.

The floppy-topped chicken potpie as big as a steering wheel had nice morsels of tender white meat, peas, carrots and mushrooms, but the bland creamy sauce seemed more appropriate for a nursery than a dining room. Still, it might have been a contender had the oddly separated pastry not been scorched on top yet raw on the underside. A prosaic mahi mahi fillet in a pool of watery butter sauce and a similarly sauced Dover sole seem like afterthoughts.

Salads, among them a spiced pecan romaine number and a simple iceberg wedge, are large and fresh enough but lack that extra oomph. The cooked veggies, including garlicky sautéed spinach and nicely grilled asparagus, were equally unremarkable.

Though the Grill makes a rather big deal about its "hand-crafted martinis, cocktails and high-balls, " we stuck with basic wines by the glass from a 100-label international list that has plenty of decent selections under $45.

Desserts suffer from an abundance of sugar and a lack of finesse. The "seasonal" fruit cobbler, for example, had the same gooey, undercooked crust as the pot pie as well as tasteless blueberries and chunks of apples. A brownie sundae big enough for a classroom of second graders was tooth-achingly sweet.

With truly pleasant waiters, a comfy setting and lots of choices, I can guarantee that a meal at The Grill on the Alley is a step up from the food court. But with prices more like Mortons, you might want to reconsider your options.