Meet the Jones, the rage up Maple Leaf way and an idiosyncratic salute to all things cool: linear midcentury design, red booths big enough for the entire Rat Pack, magenta light unsuccessfully diffusing the darkness, even the temperature of the room. But the food consistently warms, whether it’s one of the delectably lowbrow items—cheese-topped tortilla wedges, flank-steak sandwich, terrific crusty chicken strips—or something more sophisticated, like a noble morel-and-English-pea ravioli, or a grilled blue cheese sandwich with caramelized onions, even a pan-roasted chicken breast thoughtfully fanned over lovage and bacon-infused lentils. Dinner may take a little longer than your family can patiently wait—and grrrrooooovy bar notwithstanding, families flock to this place—but the servers are dears, and the food will nearly always be worth it.