Last February, Tom and I spent a snowbound weekend at the downtown Holiday Inn in Louisville, Ky. A captive audience for the in-house eatery, we encountered one terrible dish after another, culminating with the worst of them all: a bubbling mess called the Kentucky Hot Brown.

"Oh, this is just wrong!" I gurgled as the first spoonful of gravy, cheese, toast and tomato oozed down my gullet. "They’ve managed to kill some of my favorite ingredients by making them taste … sour." Brave and loyal spouse that Tom is, he reached across the table with his utensil and stabbed at my fare. "Blech," he opined. "Just order something else."

I dejectedly scanned the menu for alternatives, imagining how fat I was going to get in three days ingesting food I couldn’t even enjoy.

Thus, it was with a palpable lack of enthusiasm that we slouched towards the Char Grillhouse at the new downtown Fort Myers Holiday Inn on U.S. 41.

"You know, it’s really a great gig we have," I reminded us both.

"Yeah, we’re so lucky," Tom responded in a monotone.

Within moments of entering the newly opened, chic, red- and black-toned space, the brainchild of independent Aussie restaurateur Steve Hyde, we saw the fresh, appetizing fare bouncing past us on the shoulders of black-clad servers and knew that we were far from the Kentucky Hot Brown. We broke into big grins, relieved to be so wrong.

"I love our job!" I said.

"It’s the best!" Tom said, leaning in for a kiss.

Char’s menu is a study in abundance and simplicity. Diners may choose from an assortment of "Tapas & Starters," "Burgers, Sandwiches & Wraps," "Salads" and "Sides & Veggies," of which we were most enamored with the following: the basil pesto hummus starter with toasted garlic and herb panini wedges ($5.95); the portabella, goat cheese and pistachio tapas grilled with olive oil, garlic and lemon zest ($9.95); all of the sides and veggies (from $2.50 to $5.95); but most especially, the grilled portabella mushroom with thyme, butter and char seasoning. We imagined that most of the local happy-hour diners probably gravitated towards the char-fried shrimp fritters ($7.95), but they left us cold.

Char distinguishes itself from competitors with its portions, variety and presentation of grilled meats and sauces. For $6.78 each, guests may sample a four-ounce hunk of pork bratwurst or mahi mahi, among others, along with a choice of sides; for $8.98, the four-ounce choices include (but are not limited to) venison bratwurst, jumbo Gulf shrimp and quail, plus side options.

Finally, for those who, like me, come equipped with a compass that inevitably points north to the most expensive options available, $10.98 increases the choices to include an array that boasts a petite beef filet and kangaroo. The owner, an amiable expatriate whose enduring ties to Australia include kangaroo meat distributors, says the novelty meat is actually Char’s top seller.

Spread before us was a carnivore’s banquet, with a healthy twist: We wouldn’t leave the table clutching our stomachs like Henry VIII. How much damage can you really do in four-ounce increments?

The choices at Char don’t stop with the meats, of which we genuinely enjoyed the duck sausage, bison, New York strip and tuna. The grill also offers three categories of dipping sauces—sweet, spicy and savory—with options galore, the very best of which seemed to be the cooling tzatziki, a wasabi cream, a berry chutney and the mint pesto. Tom cleansed his palate between bites with a Mark West pinot noir ($8 per glass), while I started channeling James Bond and ordered a martini ($8.50). OK, it may have actually been a Bond Girl I was channeling because it was a white chocolate martini, but it was served in a cool steel glass. It tasted like power.

Immersed as we were in all that meat, our surprise favorite was the remarkably light and tasty Italian broccolini pasta with roasted garlic, extra virgin olive oil, white wine and shaved parmesan. It was both a bargain and a marvel at a mere $12.95.

Feeling expansive as I surveyed traces of our bountiful feast, I ordered four desserts (out of a possible five). Tom gasped.

"Really?" he said. "Four?"

"Oh yes," I assured our waiter, Freddie. We were a long way from Louisville, where I had quickly come to regard every saltine with deep suspicion. In the comfort of Char’s fine cuisine, I said, we would most definitely be needing the fresh berry zabaglione tulip in a chocolate cup, the fried banana crème brûlée in caramel syrup, the Key lime pie with toasted coconut and chocolate graham crust, and the char grilled pear in raspberry liquor and rose syrup ($7 each). In fact, I had no idea just how much we would be needing them until they arrived. Suffice it to say that I can’t imagine a problem that can’t be fixed, or at least reduced in scope, with one of these extraordinary desserts. Why take a chance? You should order them all, as I will again soon.

To sum up, the curse of the downtown Louisville Holiday Inn has been forever banished by the good people of the Char Grillhouse. We have learned that while the bedrooms may be comfortingly alike in Holiday Inns the world over, independent restaurateurs like Steve Hyde can furnish a dazzling array of dining choices for the traveler and local alike. It might be time for another white chocolate martini to make an appropriate toast!

The Char Grillhouse 2431 Cleveland Ave., Fort Myers; (239) 337-2427 or www.chargrillhouse.com. Open lunch Monday–Friday 11 a.m.–4 p.m.; dinner, Monday–Saturday, 4 p.m.–closing; and happy hour, Monday–Friday, 3–7 p.m. Reservations accepted for parties of seven or more. Free parking in lot. Credit cards accepted. Wheelchair accessible.

As we approached the Marco Island Marriott Beach Resort, it occurred to me that I was becoming something of a chain-hotel regular. As luck would have it, I met a girlfriend at the Marco Island Marriott for a spa weekend just a few weeks after our Kentucky trip. Spa-going is one of my favorite delights, and thus my associations with the hotel were all quite positive. Tom and I paused as we descended the double staircases and took in the spectacular Gulf beach views.

"If we sold the house and the cars," I said after a long moment of reverence, "how long do you think we could live here at the Marriott?"

"Don’t even think about it," Tom said. He knows I never joke about luxury.

We made our way into the blue- and yellow-lit, curvy ambiance of Kurrents, where we enjoyed a meal that was just about perfect from start to finish.

The restaurant’s staff was still buzzing with an honor that had been bestowed on the hotel’s executive chef Mark Quitney: He had been invited to cook a meal at the prestigious James Beard House in New York City. As Michigan native Philomena Zale began to bring dish after dish to our table, and manager Eyal Goldberger expertly tended to our needs, Tom and I realized that James Beard was nobody’s chump.

In fact, the Kurrents kitchen won our loyalty from our first bite. They uphold high standards of quality ingredients and know how to fuse flavors from East to West with panache. From the truly superb grilled wild Gulf shrimp in cilantro and garlic with Asian peanut slaw and a tomato-ginger shooter ($13), to the wood oven pizzas that change daily ($9), to the goat cheese fondue with grilled bread, Asian pear and tomato Thai basil relish ($9), the "small plates" launched us into a meal that had us sitting up and taking notice. Well, that is until we began to slouch from the martini flight ($15), a dramatic steel tree with three martini branches. Tom and I thoroughly enjoyed the appletini and the peach sunset, but the third, a kurrent affair, reminded us of cough syrup.

Saxophonist Michael Cohen kept standards like Cheek to Cheek, I’ve Got the World on a String, and If They Asked Me, I Could Write a Book, flowing through the joint. I looked at Tom, the avant-garde music maven, with trepidation.

"I’m in heaven," I said, "but are you … dying?"

"Far from it," Tom said. "He has a strong melodic tone, great phrasing. In fact, he shouldn’t be here. He should be in New York."

"Well, I’m glad he’s here," I said. "I would come back just to hear him again, and start over again with these starters."

When the entrées arrived, the list of reasons to return continued to grow. The pan-seared snapper over lemon pepper fettucini, arugula, fresh mozzarella and citrus butter ($26) was awfully good, as was the 16-ounce bone-in ribeye ($36), but the true marvel was the showstopping Eastern hot pot with shrimps, scallops, Manilla clams and Maine lobster in coconut and lime bouillon ($32). Robert Mitchell, the head chef of Kurrents and inventor of the hot pot, explained that he uses lobster stock and many other ingredients, and simmers the stew for a minimum of 90 minutes.

"Whenever we eat at a hotel, we worry about getting the wedding chicken," Tom confided.

Mitchell laughed. "Oh no," he said. "We’re a long way from that."

You won’t truly appreciate just how far until you sample Kurrents’ delectable desserts. We tried the trio of crème brûlée—including lychee, espresso and dahlia coconut—and the Banoffi tart, a banana, toffee and dough concoction served with chocolate caramel ice cream and carmelized bananas ($9 each). We also noticed that a few children who were scattered about were eating what looked like cotton candy. It turns out that the raspberry chiffon cheesecake (also $9) is served with spun sugar and fresh berries.

Nobody who works at Kurrents is phoning it in. On the contrary, the food is good enough to cure a hotel-dining-phobe forever. Heck, let the tourists fend for themselves. Locals who want fresh food prepared with style need to make
reservations right away.

Kurrents The Marco Island Marriott Beach Resort, 400 S. Collier Blvd., Marco Island; (239) 642-2695 or www.marcoislandmarriott.com/dining_kurrents.html. Dinner daily from 5:30 p.m.–10 p.m. Reservations suggested. Valet and self-parking available. Credit cards accepted. Wheelchair accessible.