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We once loved chic Maison Carlos for its nostalgic take on Italian and French "Continental" cuisine; the menu felt like a '60s throwback plunked down in the middle of Clematis Street, from the oysters Rockefeller and vichyssoise to the soupe a l'ognion and the perfectly calibrated martinis served by elegantly dinner-jacketed staff. These days, the concept feels more dated than delightful, and sadly, both food and service have succumbed to dreaded mediocrity. Lobster risotto is gummy, fish served a la Milanese is reminiscent of Mrs. Paul's, a tossed salad comes swimming in olive oil, a Tuscan-style steak is too tough to chew, and a bland dessert flan does nothing to sweeten the deal. The only thing that remains of the old magic is the luxurious prices.