At some point in the last 20 years, we’ve all dined in a restaurant that was painstakingly designed to astonish its guests, or at least watched a Netflix show about one. Maybe it has a single wall made from 60,000 bottles of Pellegrino or it serves a nest of moss atop a puff of woodsmoke you’re then meant to wash down with an infusion of summer wind. These establishments deserve their ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’, and it’s all very Instagrammable, until you see that there’s a $1,200 dessert on the menu or get hopelessly lost on your way to the spooky coed bathroom. At which point, all the theatrics and architecture and molecular gastronomy in the world can’t distract you from the single most important question to ask about any restaurant: Is the food good? New Canaan is pleasantly devoid of restaurants where function follows form.