f you were looking for just one word to describe basement restaurant of the Auberge du Vieux Port, it would be "luxe." Located in Old Montreal, Les Remparts exhibits many of the grown-up virtues, the ones your parents talked about - calmness, assertiveness, style.

The menu is typical of your high-end hotel restaurant, with a number of old menu favourites split evenly between meat and fish, though it occasionally suffers from the problem of mismatched elements. The restaurant is a historic setting - built of old stone walls and thick wooden beams. The restaurant takes its name from the gray stone cellar under the Auberge du Vieux-Port that was once formed part of the city wall, which was unearthed during renovations to the building in 1994.

This dining room is still a place to sit up straight - and one where the food can be relied on for consistency, served as it is with enough pomp to make diners feel privileged. Pressed white linen, low ceilings and fort-like stone walls bring a plush French ambiance. The price for such ambiance, however, is high in dollars and low in creativity.

It's well prepared but not necessarily memorable fare. A recent meal began with a slice of grilled peasant bread, slathered it with the restaurant's evanescently seasoned chicken liver mousse, which translated into a dish that was nice to look at but void of personality - not to mention seasoning. A plate of wontons filled with duck confit was a much better starter, with little dollops of goat cheese ringing the plate, designed to compliment the bed of roasted red peppers and shallots that the duck confit set on. A little warm goat cheese goes a long way with me, but that may be more of a personal preference than a culinary criticism.