951 days of Spring and counting. American chef's Daniel Rose's project (don't call it a business), Spring, seems to have taken on a life of its own. Originally conceived as a dinner theatre of sorts, a limited-time only 'menu du marché', Spring has long surpassed its original shelf-life of 365 days.

This is a tale with two stories. The first is a fairy tale told about a young, self-taught chef, who against all odds, wooed and wowed the Parisian gastocracy with his innovative interpretations of traditional French ingredients and techniques. This is a story with a foreign hero who, without pedigree or connections, seized a throne on pure talent alone. The critics and bloggers loved him and the already exclusive, fashionably minimalistic 16-seat space became nearly impossible to get into. Dinner at Spring soon required a booking 5 months in advance, and thus, Spring further endeared itself to the cool and hungry, and their hangers-on. Rose had made it in a tough, exclusive world. But what seemed to be such a promising beginning for Spring and this young American chef may have proved to be only the beginning of the end.

Which brings us to the second interpretation of this tale. This is the story of an American who spent years in Paris as a student, years in which he likely acquired an understanding of the cliques he would need to court to succeed in the sharky waters of the Parisian restaurant scene. After studying culinary arts and working abroad, Spring was conceived as an experiment of sorts. An experiment that should have freed Rose from the grueling grind that a running a restaurant kitchen can be. 16 covers. One service. No choice – your dinner is chosen and executed by the chef mere meters from your table. It was a performance. A chef's table for 16 (and now for all those who want to live vicariously through those with reservations, live, via webcam, from home). It was culinary art meets theatrical performance. But like so many ideas conceived in the spirit of freedom, it ultimately became restrictive. Innovation and experimentation were yolked and tamed by the desire to please those who came to Spring with firm expectations, those who had in many cases, booked 5 months in advance. What began as a refreshing, Spring breeze ultimately settled into a - at times quite pleasant - blast from a state-of-the-art fan.

As was our meal there the other night. 16 patrons are advised when booking to arrive at 8:30pm. Dinner starts at 9pm. So we sat, sipping our champagne, excited, waiting for the others to arrive.

And the first course more than met our expectations. A ravioli of peas was served in a light mushroom broth with foie gras. It was delightful. The sweet peas, the lovely foie gras offset nicely by a wonderfully light broth. And each bite of ravioli unleashed a burst of something citrus on my tongue. Was that orange? Now that was definitely refreshing. As we polished off the first course, Froggy and I smiled at each other, anxious for what was to come.

The second course was monkfish topped with a cucumbers, radishes and crispy threads of onion. Monkfish, at its best, is slightly sweet, with dense flesh. Overcooked, monkfish loses its flavour acquiring a texture akin to rubber. Our monkfish, was slightly bland with a good chew. I admit it wasn't entirely unpleasant paired with the crisp salad. Truth is, if overdone, it was slight. It wasn't bad. I couldn't complain. But this after a sensational first course. I had an uncomfortable feeling. Why was I expecting more?

The next course was a tender and juicy duckling breast served with a sweet sauce. Here the meat was perfectly done. The duckling was served with a savoury ragout of fava beans and artichokes. Perfectly prepared, I couldn't complain. But where was the innovation there? However great it was, I couldn't help but be disappointed. This is a dish that is done, granted with varying degrees of success, if every other restaurant in Paris.

Dessert was prefaced by a teaser. The classic trio of raspberry, chocolate and white chocolate ganache. A great opener for dessert – strawberries topped with fresh whipped cream and a chewy square of crumble. A simple and delicious finale.

So how did we feel? It is a small, but stylish and comfortable room.All in all, it was a very good dinner. But as with all oft told stories, the legend and the myth tends to become bigger than the man. And although Daniel Rose is obviously a chef with talent, after all that hype, one can't help but be slightly disappointed.