So often, the experience of dining out at a historic inn in the suburbs is akin to visiting an elderly relative or a second-rate tourist site. The scene inevitably contains bland and indifferently prepared American fare eaten while sitting on a rickety chair in a cutesy, fusty room that features glacial service, a whatnot of precious knickknacks to stare at and a draft at your neck.

		THE CROSS KEYS INN 599 Dorseyville Road, Fox Chapel 412-963-8717 Hours: Tuesday to Sunday, lunch 11:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m., dinner 5 to 10 p.m. Sunday brunch, 11:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. Basics: Reservations recommended; no smoking. Handicap accessible; all major credit cards accepted.

With a pleasing personality, a motivated kitchen staff, a recent and thorough renovation of its dining rooms and a loyal local following, The Cross Keys Inn proves to be the exception to this trend.

Historically, the circa-1850 space housed a hotel and dining room. One can imagine horse-drawn carriages idling in front of the three-story brick building, with its long, shuttered windows and low-slung, full-length porch lined with small iron tables and benches. On a wintery night, the snow-tipped inn is as snug and picturesque a scene as depicted in landscape paintings of the Colonial United States.

Today, Cross Keys' restaurant inhabits the downstairs of the structure; on the second and third floors is luxury day spa ESSpa Kozmetika.

Cross Keys has been a flicker on Pittsburgh's dining scene for many years, as it opened and closed and reopened over decades. Scott Kershbaumer and Daniel McGreevy, natives of Fox Chapel and Allison Park, respectively, opened their incarnation of The Cross Keys in November.

Inside, The Cross Keys impresses with gleaming woodwork and sparkling chandeliers; the clubby decor makes you want to order a single-malt scotch, to be delivered on a silver tray. However, The Cross Keys' liquor license has not come through yet; the restaurant is BYOB.

In the back room, ceiling beams of heavy, dark wood, solid furniture and an agrarian mural have a manorial feel that the view through the windows -- a wave of green grass and pine trees falling away toward the horizon -- reinforces. The chilly front room is bit more austere, but the bar is wide, wooden and jolly.

Kershbaumer and McGreevy culled their kitchen staff from the resorts of Florida: executive chef Bradley Marks came from the Breakers resort in Palm Beach and sous chef William Weimer worked at The Ocean Reef Club in Key Largo. On their menu, there is little tropical influence, but there's plenty of clubby richness and predictability.

The menu balances fusion fare -- nervy dishes that show a little ankle -- and staid favorites. Grilled rib-eye, veal Piccata and Chicken Normandy epitomize the sot of featureless yet satisfying dishes that cater to a clientele that dines at the restaurant more than once a week.

But the Cross Keys Crabtini takes a cue from global popular culture; the lump crab is sunny as the Tuscan hills when tumbled with fennel. The chefs give a nod to Asia and pair seared scallops with slices of lacy lotus root, a starchy-sweet water lily rhizome. Yellowfin tuna is painted with wasabi paste.

Although salmon was served with a predictable horseradish crust, the meat was moist. Dijon caper cream sauce complemented the pungent coating. Yellowfin tuna had a lively coating of toasted beige and black sesame seeds which went well with the silky texture of the rare fish.

Venison chops were tender to the bone and served with a syrupy blackberry demi glace that we liked quite well. Too bad the plate and everything on it was cold -- the fault of the server who lost interest in our table and disappeared for a long time after clearing our appetizers. Smoke break? -- perhaps if it included a drive to the nearest Sheetz.

The menu changes regularly, but some dishes are regulars, like the stuffed pork rib chop and excellent filet capped with a melting and musky foie gras butter. Chef Marks carves up the tenderloin himself, which makes for a great steak: thick and crusty, not insipid and soft as filet can be. On a recent visit, entrees were served with a pile of meaty brown lentils and a crunchy scramble of sauteed snow peas, zucchini, red pepper and onion.

Appetizers disappoint. The staples are solid. Portobella Napolean is full-flavored and meaty, despite watery tomato slices stacked in with the marinated mushrooms and fresh mozzarella. Crab cakes are thready and bready, more croquette-ish than cake, though they rest in a creamy trio of lively sauces. Roulade of fresh mozzarella is chewier than fine fresh mozzarella should be, but sun-dried tomatoes, basil oil and silky prosciutto elevate the whole.

The tuna carpaccio was, simply, a mess. Long, cold flaps of fish were draped over a pile of wilted spinach. The composition of the plate was reminiscent of Dali's "The Persistence of Memory" -- in this case it is tuna rather than time that has lost all meaning.

A variety of salads is a nod to the spa upstairs. Spinach salad is colorful, with mandarin orange segments, red onions and sweet pecans, but the raspberry orange vinaigrette is oversweet.

There is culinary simplicity and minimalism, and then there is The Cross Keys' spa salad: greens and parsley with a barely-there champagne vinaigrette. It's far too virtuous; even spa ladies and raw foodists recognize that greens benefit from a generous, flavorful drizzle of oil.

There are no disappointments on the dessert menu. Pastry chef Becky O'Hara is a talent. O'Hara comes to The Cross Keys by way of Siena, at Fox Chapel Yacht Club, and the Renaissance Hotel.

Her desserts are simple yet interesting, perfect in their texture and balance. Classic Linzertorte is sticky with sweet-tart raspberry jam and nutty with hazelnuts. Its cakey crust crumbles just so. Apricot raspberry tart had a braided crust buttery and elegant as shortbread, with a fine snap to it.

We never caught the name of the slice of something chocolate that was a cross between pudding and souffle in texture, served in a pool of boozy rum cream. It was intoxicating, light as a meringue to the teeth and as darkly chocolate as a truffle on the tongue.

O'Hara bakes the restaurant's fresh bread as well; proof that The Cross Keys is striving for excellence. The bread -- crisp, yeasty rolls and eggy, porous brioche -- is served hot, with a swirl of soft flavored butter.

Lunch at The Cross Keys is recommended for those who have just undergone a European facial or Hot Lava pedicure. There are more salads on the lunch menu, and sandwiches include a Devonshire topped with Vermont Cheddar sauce, a club sandwich with smoked Gouda and sage mayonnaise, and a burger served on roasted red pepper ciabatta.

The Cross Keys has a charming ambience. Patrons linger at their tables, relaxed and happy. There are often parties of six or more, which the kitchen handles gracefully.

Another charm is the price range. You're not overpaying for good food: Entrees are in the $15-$25 range, pastas are less, and the large salads and generously portioned appetizers make a meal, with a little space for a not-to-be-missed dessert. It's no wonder many Fox Chapel residents love and depend on this restaurant.

Elements of a seamless dining experience are in place at The Cross Keys: the dining rooms are lovely, the tables are filled, the erratic service is steadily straightening out, the menu is being tightened and refined. Over the past two months, even the Web site became more attractive and comprehensive.

The next crucial ingredient is an interesting and affordable wine list. As is, The Cross Keys is dependable and personable, a place where history and modernity intersect. The sense of ease is pervasive.