Much like Fallingwater, the Frank Lloyd Wright masterpiece on which it is modeled, Woodlands Grill is stunning at first glance. And also like the celebrated American architect's most famous residential creation, upon further inspection it has a few cracks in the foundation.

Photos by CHERYL DIAZ MEYER/DMN

Tuna tartare with lavash crisps is top-notch.

The setting is certainly handsome enough. Open the front door and you're greeted with a translucent wall of tumbling water that separates the host stand from the bar behind it. Copious amounts of wood, walls hewn of natural stone, clean lines and sleek geometric angles pay obvious tribute to the master and his iconic architectural marvel without going overboard into kitschy theme-restaurant territory.

The menu shows a similar blend of style and restraint. True, there's no escaping those ubiquitous sliders, here crafted of Kobe brisket and served three to an order. But other offerings show an uncommon vein of creativity, particularly in their use of underutilized sides such as fennel, barley and bok choy. And, on my first visit at least, most of those dishes were nearly flawlessly executed.

Take, for example, a starter of tuna tartare, another appetizer that's been done to death. Here, though, the cool shards of fish were pale in color and shot through with skinny rivulets of fat. The flesh was haunting in its purity; the flavor difference between this and your typical raw tuna was akin to the chasm between regular tuna and premium toro at a top-flight sushi bar. Served with a basket of crackling lavash crisps, this was a keeper, as was the crab cake, an off-menu special that's always available.

Our waiter described the cake as being 90 percent lump crabmeat, and he was actually selling it short. I'd say 99 percent was more like it. The vaguely puck-shaped pile of seafood was unencumbered by anything more than a modest sprinkling of seasoning. Its fresh, flaky meat rested in a saucy pool of chipotle beurre blanc and was accompanied by a mammoth hunk of tempura-battered bok choy that lent a pleasant bit of crispness and vegetal earthiness to the tender crab.

A duo of seafood entrees was just as accomplished. Cedar-plank citrus salmon, served medium rare, was velvet-textured with a bright, lemony zing underneath a cap of crushed macadamia nuts. A lively apple-fennel slaw and comforting ale-braised barley came on the side. A daily special of red snapper was even better. Served atop a bed of bok choy and tropical fruit salsa, the fish was seductively full-flavored and crowned with a tangle of wakame seaweed.

On a second visit, however, flaws began to show. A starter of fried calamari was a sodden mess. Tasteless rings of squid huddled under a gummy coat of tempura batter. A drizzle of creamy jalapeño-lime dressing tried in vain to add a much-needed spark, but this dish was beyond redemption.

An order of mussels was markedly better, though still nothing special. The seafood was fresh, firm and meaty, and the broth was a straightforward shallot-and-herb-flecked brew of white wine, butter and garlic. Too bad the accompanying triangles of toast were stale and chewy with an overpowering flavor of the grill.

Entrees continued the theme of mediocrity. Neither the 22-ounce bone-in rib eye nor the roasted beef short rib had much wow factor. Both were adequately prepared, but the steak didn't live up to its $34 price tag, and the short rib, though tender, was bland.

So why such a major disparity between two meals ordered less than a week apart? When quizzed, our server allowed that the seafood entrees – particularly the daily specials – were always the way to go and opined that the end result of the kitchen's output could vary greatly depending on who was cooking at the time. (For what it's worth, I spied executive chef Jimmy Villareal ambling through the dining room on the night of my first, stellar meal but didn't see him on my ill-fated weeknight follow-up.)

I returned for a third visit to see which meal was the anomaly, ordering both the best- and worst-received of the dishes from two previous dinners. The result was strictly middle-of-the-road, landing squarely between the earlier highs and lows.

The calamari wasn't as soggy, though its batter was still nowhere close to being crisp. (Being served inside a moisture-trapping bamboo steamer basket probably doesn't help matters.) The crab appetizer was still laudable, but its haphazard, somewhat fallen appearance hinted that the plate had spent a bit too much time under a warming lamp. The beef short rib was marginally more flavorful and its accompaniments (garlic mashed potatoes, pearl onions and braised fennel) equally enjoyable. Only the cedar-plank citrus salmon reached the same lofty heights it achieved during my first encounter.

Desserts were uniformly good on all visits, though the simplest (a delightfully tart honey-lemon granita with fresh berries) was my personal favorite. There were also no complaints with the rich brioche bread pudding or the William Tell, a moist apple spice cake topped with a silken layer of cheesecake. Least appreciated was the chocolate snowball, a fluffy globe of chocolate cake split and filled with buttercream frosting, then glazed with dark chocolate ganache. Though it certainly is capable of satisfying a sweet tooth, it was reminiscent of a gourmet version of a Hostess Ding Dong.

The wine list is manageable in size and scope, featuring a good mix of familiar names and bottles by less-recognized vintners. Prices are moderate: No bottle hits the three-figure mark, and most hover comfortably near the $50 range. There's also a decent selection available by the glass.

Service was accomplished and responsive. Waiters were quick to make suggestions for food and wine pairings, and their recommendations were more often than not spot-on. The candor of the server who offered his brutally frank assessment of some of the dishes was refreshing, but his lack of discretion became a bit off-putting, and his charm and confidence veered dangerously close to self-aggrandizement. That said, he knew what he was talking about, and I'd feel comfortable putting myself in his hands for any future meals. After all, as anyone familiar with Frank Lloyd Wright knows, expertise often comes with a healthy dose of ego.

Kim Harwell is a Dallas food writer.

Woodlands Grill {star}{star} (good)

Food {star}{star}

Service {star}{star}{star}

Atmosphere {star}{star}{star}

Price: $$$ (appetizers $6 to $12, entrees $10 to $34, desserts $7)

Address: 6073 Forest Lane (at Preston)

Phone: 972-239-2024

Web site: www.woodlands-grill.com

Hours: Sunday-Thursday 11 a.m. to 10 p.m., Friday-Saturday 11 a.m. to 11 p.m.

Credit cards: All major

Wheelchair accessible: Yes

Smoking area: None

Alcohol: Full bar