Ladies Who Lunch: A Palm Beach afternoon at Coco’s.

There is a universal truth about restaurants. Even the best kitchens have an off day.

This is especially true when a place has just opened.

Another truth. A substandard waiter can sink a meal faster than a stone dropped in the Intracoastal.

Fortunately, an outstanding team member can sometimes right the ship before it sinks.

On a sunny, very warm South Florida afternoon, my friend who also resides comfortably inside the same protective bubble of life, joined me for a Palm Beach jaunt on a Ladies Who Lunch excursion.

We glided over to billionaire island in the Sleek Beauty who has recently been behaving like quite the regal lady.

Our destination was the Vineta Hotel, the newly refurbished and rather elegant boutique hotel owned by the Oetker Group, the same custodians of legendary properties like Le Bristol in Paris, Hotel du Cap-Eden-Roc located in Antibes, Jumby Bay Island in Antigua, London’s Lanesborough, and Eden Rock in St. Barths, among others.

The property is intimate. A mere 41 rooms with rates that start at $1,900 a night and climb briskly into the $3,000–$5,000 range for suites.

Palm Beach pricing, in other words, where one pays for discretion, sunlight, and the notion of exclusivity.

The three-year renovation has lifted the hotel beautifully. The aesthetic is genteel and understated much more refined than the neighboring Mar-a-Lago facelift, which leans more toward Versailles-meets-gaudy casino.

After a quick wander through the property, we made our way to our 1:00 p.m. reservation at Coco’s, the newly opened restaurant on the premises.

Coco’s, named after the street it resides on, is an upscale Mediterranean restaurant with a 64-seat indoor dining room and a 32-seat outdoor courtyard.

The dining room itself is lovely…tasteful, bright, and gracious without shouting for attention. We were seated by a window, which always improves one’s outlook on life.

Unfortunately, it was at this point that I began to sense lunch might linger.

We were introduced to a very tightly wound server who spent most of the afternoon perfecting the art of ignoring us.

Water became harder to locate than during a jog through the Sahara.

The table was beautifully set, and the in-house bread basket arrived looking promising though curiously without butter or olive oil, as if we were expected to admire the bread rather than eat it.

I had read that Coco’s pizzas were fabulous, the recipe imported from their storied French property. The  Funghi Pizza did not disappoint: a beautifully crisp crust topped with delicately locally sourced wild mushrooms and a light layer of mozzarella cheese that was genuinely delicious ($33).

Then came the highly touted Maine Lobster Salad, which our server enthusiastically described as the restaurant’s most popular dish. I have never trusted this phrase. Frankly, who wants to eat what everyone else is?!

The salad arrived unintentionally warm on wilted lettuce with three tiny cubes of mango sliced for toddler consumption, missing tomatoes and a few stray chunks of avocado wandering the plate like tourists without a map. The lobster, allegedly the star, seemed to have missed its cue. Coco’s favorite was a completely tasteless disappointment ($44).

After nearly an hour stranded on what felt like Coco Island, I eventually approached the bartender to request a dessert menu, an act of mild rebellion in Palm Beach dining circles.

And then, like a benevolent fairy godmother in understated resort wear, the lovely Food and Beverage Supervisor, Vell, floated by and, ultimately, saved the day.

My review at that moment was shaping up to be as biting as a Senate confirmation hearing, but Vell graciously removed the offending salad from the bill and replaced it with profiteroles bathed in a soul-soothing Valrhona chocolate sauce with Madagascar vanilla ice cream. Redemption, albeit mediocre, in cream puff form.

We ended the meal with a very good cappuccino, though at $10 it arrived with the quiet understanding that Palm Beach remains elitist.

In the end, the company was delightful, the food a 5 out of 10, and Coco itself felt oddly without personality, pleasant but not yet fully alive.

Still, Vell’s intervention elevated what might have been a scathing review into something much more charitable.

My advice. Stop by for a drink at the bar and pizza and wander through the aesthetically pleasing property.

For now, Coco’s is no Chanel.

Coco’s at the Vineta Hotel 363 Coconut Row Palm Beach, Florida. Open daily for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Valet and street parking. Reservations on seven rooms.com.