Maybe it’s good enough for the name of a column in an urban weekly, but calling a restaurant “My Place” is about as original as peeling a potato with a potato peeler designed specifically for potatoes.

And adding a tagline that reads “A Canadian pub” pretty much says, “we serve a lot of beer and probably wings and nachos.” That may come as a bit of a surprise considering Brad Long (ex of Air Canada Centre) is the chef here — a man who’s catered to the who’s who in business class and their trophy wives over the years.

The new 18,000-square-foot Bloor West Village watering hole, on the site of the place Loblaw’s set up shop in 1956, is big enough to be a theme park — not quite the homey, comfy atmosphere the dumb moniker implies. As for the “Canadian” cuisine concept, exec chef Long does deliver a fairly decent gastro pub carte. Casserole-dish-sized portions of stellar poutine ($9) are big enough to feed an army; a tourtiere with ketchup ($18) and Habitant pea soup ($7) satisfy the yearnings of the Quebecois lumberjack in all of us. But eastern Europe also gets a nod, with slow-cooked onion and Yukon Gold–stuffed perogies ($9), a massive portion of zippy cabbage slaw ($5) and borscht ($7). And if it’s American influence you’re hankering for, there’s plenty to choose from including all-beef hotdogs ($9), hamburgers ($14-$18) and beautifully crispy buttermilk-battered chicken sliders ($12) topped with pickled red onion and creamy avocado on pillow-soft white rolls.

But just as My Place can’t make up its mind if it’s a pub, deli or sports bar, confusion continues into the culinary realm. Having staffed the kitchen with ex–ACC Platinum Club cooks, you’d expect Long’s talented minions would kick standard bar food up a notch. And in the case of a house-made charcuterie plate with lamb sausage, a tremendously fluffy pot of home-made ricotta (even if somewhat out of place), duck confit and a marvellous country-style bison terrine, they do. But some dishes are simply overwrought, like the sorry attempt to reinvent the classic Caesar. The garlic-bomb salad ($9) adds whole cloves of butter-braised garlic and dresses it in a too-heavy brown butter. Explosively oily croutons just make it a giant grease pit. And what’s wrong with traditional cabbage rolls ($14)? The choice of Savoy cabbage is a bit overdone, but the real problem here is it wraps an over-watery mix of under-seasoned rice and pulled pork shoulder that just doesn’t bind properly. And adding chive oil to the mix is just too much reinterpretation of this rustic classic.

Thankfully, desserts are a huge improvement. The Pets de Soeurs (which translates into nun’s farts) is just an old-school cinnamon roll ($8) with a dense, short-bite dough that’s marvellous, despite a grainy brown-sugar consistency in the centre.

All negatives aside, if you can get past the silly name and the cavern-like coldness, the food is actually pretty good, plus there are prices and family portions that pack great value. But it is hard to watch an über-chef with the talent of Brad Long dumbing down his talents, trying to reinvent cabbage rolls. Perhaps My Place is just a stepping stone.