Bad omens rarely come during calls to book a restaurant table. Not so at The Middle 8th, tucked back in a Sanlitun alley.

"Don't you dare be late" began the hostess, scolding. "Be here on time or we're not going to hold your table."

The clientele at The Middle 8th is a bit classier. There are local businessmen cursing after hours, chain-smoking mother and daughter pairs in matching turtlenecks, handsome couples in black, and hipsters with faux-hawk coiffure. Though it is warm, comfortable and inoffensive, the interior has the feel of dated chic. Tables are curtained off with red fringe, blocking sight of the waitstaff dressed in yeoman gray.

Established in 2000, the restaurant succeeds more than it stumbles. The Yunnan food by head chef Wang Wei, while ambitious, excels where dishes are at its most austere.

But first, let's tackle the service. Be prepared because it is uneven. On a Saturday, a packed house pushed food orders back by 20 minutes. Fetching plain hot water seemed too much a chore. Thirty minutes elapsed before the first dish landed. On a Wednesday, the staff handled an equally crowded restaurant with ease.

Imbalance can also be found in the chain restaurant's offerings. The boiled fish in Lijiang copper pot (56 yuan) was a triangular bliss of plump chunks of white, firm fish in a milky, delicate broth made slightly tart with picked mustard greens. Spitting out the hair-thin bones is necessary.

The stir-fried matsutake with oysters (48 yuan) was a regretful choice. The mushrooms had life in the workmanlike sauce. The oyster, on the other hand, was a knuckle in your mouth: all batter, crunch and salt.

Wild, edible mushrooms are abundant in Yunnan province and The Middle 8th features the springy fungi throughout its extensive menu. The stir-fried boletus edulis with cantharellus mushrooms (38 yuan) turned conversations. The mushrooms were meaty, welcomed for their slight toughness and did not disappoint.

The scalded weever in lemon sauce (88 yuan) was another strong dish. Buttery and flaky, the fish was draped in cilantro, toothy soybeans, lime wedges and chili chunks. Though it sat curiously on a limp bed of rice noodles, the fish had a light, searing heat and the refreshing acidity from the lime made the starch irrelevant. This dish initiated the wolfing-down of food.

At 56 yuan, the baked veal with abalone mushrooms in a black pepper sauce is worth perhaps half the price. The tender cubes of meat had a slight lingering sweetness after the crushed peppercorns faded and the mushrooms were done with little fuss - not a bad thing. Skip the braised bacon ribs with chili sauce (36 yuan). Housed playfully in a clay pot - the cover takes the shape of a grinning cat - the dish lacked taste to match the presentation. The ribs were gamey, fatty and seemed to be seasoned in haste.

Rice wine is ubiquitous here and has the punch of a third-grader. It's cloudy, cool, served in a tall sugar cane and could be a staple at any house party.

Still a diner's favorite, The Middle 8th won't drain your wallet and doesn't pretend to be something it isn't. It's a slightly upscale restaurant that takes chances with dishes but shines when things are kept simple. It won't revolutionize the senses and it won't give you a discourse on Yunnan food. To some that's perfectly fine.