It might be that owner/chef Lara Kierstead is just too damned nice. There’s a laissez-faire approach to things—especially service—at Sugar House’s Singing Cricket Café that is charming to some and maddening to others.

To make sense of the dining experience at the Singing Cricket Café, it helps to understand the gestalt there. Neither jackets nor ties are required for men at dinner, but you’ll feel underdressed if you’re not wearing Birkenstocks. I was tempted to dig out my old pair of Earth Shoes for a lunch there last week. Hemp is the natural fiber of choice for customers, and although I believe you can pick up City Weekly at the Singing Cricket, this is more of a Catalyst crowd.

The restaurant itself is a large space with high ceilings located adjacent to—and in fact intermingled with—Dancing Crane Imports. There are lots of potted plants and trees, rattan chairs adorned with comfy pillows, all sorts of Third World and New Age bric-a-brac and soothing music wafting throughout the space. During lunchtime, the large dining room is flooded with natural sunlight from Singing Cricket’s big skylights. It’s definitely a mellow atmosphere; think Laurel Canyon circa 1972 without the incense.

Mellow is also the main approach to service at the Singing Cricket Café. At dinnertime, this can be frustrating, as one stands at the “Please wait to be seated” sign without any sign of a host or hostess. Although during a recent dinner we spotted what appeared to be a floor manager on duty, he seemed to be dedicated to taking care of kitchen business, emerging only to handle a take-out order. So when you arrive for dinner at the restaurant, you’ll probably just stand around until one of the servers—or perhaps the only server—notices you. At which time she’ll say, “Where would you like to sit?” A word of advice: I suggest requesting a seat in the most populated region of the restaurant. If you do as I did recently and sit at a more remote location—in this case, at a table next to the front window—your server may well forget about you out there in the hinterlands.

While you’re waiting at the entrance for someone to notice and seat you, take the time to look over the day’s specials written on a board near the door. Servers at the Singing Cricket Café aren’t inclined to inform customers about specials and, when asked, have to go look at the board themselves. So save some time and memorize the daily specials on your way in.

One of the things I really like about the Singing Cricket Café is that it’s a restaurant where I can dine with vegetarian friends and satisfy my own carnivorous tendencies at the same time. Normally, my veggie-eating pals are limited to either to vegetarian pasta dishes or to the ubiquitous Portabello mushroom burger, the default vegetarian options in most of restaurants. Not so at the Singing Cricket, where Lara Kierstead takes a healthy approach to cooking—there are many vegetarian, vegan and low-carb dishes on her menu—but doesn’t force nonvegetarians to take on tofu and tempeh. At lunch the other day, I enjoyed an excellent hot steak sandwich ($7.50), made with thinly-sliced tender beef, Swiss cheese, sautéed green and red julienne peppers, thin red onion slices and tomatoes, served on a soft onion roll. It was nearly as good as my favorite Philly cheesesteak in town.

Someone with lower cholesterol leanings might more enjoy Kierstead’s fajitas, made with either orange and lime-marinated tempeh or chicken. At dinner, meat lovers can opt for a grilled garlic and rosemary-marinated New York steak ($18.95) with brandy cream sauce and roasted Yukon Gold potatoes, Vegans, meanwhile, can dig into the Singing Cricket’s delicious lasagna rolls ($10.50): thick lasagna noodles stuffed with Portabello and Crimini mushrooms, ricotta, mozzarella and Asiago cheeses, yellow squash and zucchini, all rolled up sort of wrap-style and served with a rich marinara sauce. And for an additional $1.45, you can add sliced spicy Italian sausage to your lasagna dish.

Kierstead’s stated goal at the Singing Cricket Café is “to create healthy food that you enjoy eating.” She cooks with oils versus butter, and uses less salt than most chefs. Unfortunately, with a dish like the lemon chicken scallopine ($12.95), that approach results in a bland mélange of slightly overcooked boneless chicken breast with capers and artichoke hearts atop a watery pile of pasta that clearly wasn’t drained enough before plating. On the other hand, an appetizer plate of four puff-pastry wrapped roast beef and Swiss Wellingtons was wonderful, served atop mushroom centerpieces and a brandy cream sauce ($6.95).

If you’re lingering on a Saturday night with a bottle of David Bruce Pinot Noir, you might overlook the spotty service at the Singing Cricket Café. Don’t get me wrong, the servers are very friendly—just not very professional. But if you’re in a rush to get back to work on a weekday, this might not be the best place for lunch. At lunch last week, we waited and waited and waited for our lunch order to arrive, and then waited even longer for the check as we sat staring at empty plates.

Maybe the newfangled electronic Palm-style system that the servers are now learning to take and place orders at the Singing Cricket Café will ultimately improve the service there. For now, you’ll just have to settle for Lara Kierstead’s good mix of vegetarian and meat/fish/poultry-based cuisine served up in a mondo mellow atmosphere.

THE SINGING CRICKET CAFÉ 673 E. Simpson Ave. (2240 South) 487-0056 Lunch & dinner Monday-Saturday Sunday brunch