"What happened?" I asked my dining companion as we walked back to his house from dinner at Que Pasa, Church Hill's new Cuban-Puerto Rican-South American restaurant.

We were surprised, confused and disappointed at our drawn-out dinner.

It's common knowledge Church Hill's restaurant scene is lacking. Ever since Acappella and Jumpin' J's closed, Que Pasa, The Hill Café and a few coffee shops are about it.

Uninterested restaurateurs don't seem to be the reason. Perhaps the three-year headache Que Pasa's owner, John Sanchez, had to endure while navigating the city's permit and zoning laws is to blame.

For this alone Sanchez deserves immense praise.

But the result of his long-fought battle still needs tweaking to be a long-term success.

Any Church Hill foodie considers restaurants within walking distance a godsend. Subsequently, with all that Que Pasa has gone through just to open, it owes it to the neighborhood to step up the quality and consistency of its menu.

After difficulty securing a liquor license (and many initial empty tables), Que Pasa now serves alcohol. Despite this, we were one of only three tables occupying the stunningly restoreddining room this particular Friday.

Warm wood floors, butter-colored walls and a stately bar that seemed to beckon "Come, sip, stay" -- much of this Sanchez's handiwork -- were enough to persuade any first-time visitor to return. But after weathering a meal marked by inconsistent quality and lacking service, I was rethinking that return visit.

Given the hardships Sanchez has had to endure, it's unfair to complain without trying to look at things from his perspective.

When you can't depend on a consistent customer base, it's not cost-effective to keep fresh, potentially wasted ingredients and a full-time staff on hand.

But without quality product and capable servers, the dining experience suffers. Unfortunately, this is the Catch-22 Que Pasa seems to be facing.

We started with the stuffed mushroom ($8.50) with crab ($2 extra). After smelling the crab's fishiness before it hit the table, we wished we'd let the pleasantly subtle ricotta, feta and goat cheese filling speak for itself.

After perusing entrees, we had questions. Our server was willing to assist, but this required multiple trips back to the kitchen (and multiple waits for us) to get answers any server should know.

Our waiting continued as drink refills were few and far between and entrees took 45 minutes to arrive.

Many of Que Pasa's entrees are named after authentic Cuban and South American dishes, but what we received was much different than expected.

In the case of pastelillos ($13.95) -- something I know as an empanada or meat pie this wasn't a problem. Essentially a giant quesadilla filled with black beans, gooey cheese, olives and my choice of beyond-tender, lime-roasted pork, it was hard not to inhale.

On the other hand, Que Pasa's interpretation of ropa vieja ($9.95), a signature Cuban shredded beef dish literally meaning "old clothes," was a problem. Overcooked chunks (not shreds) of flank steak were so meagerly portioned they appeared to be garnish.

The bulk of the plate was filled with a thrown-together mixture of mushy potatoes, green peppers, tomatoes and what tasted like the pre-packaged yellow rice you find in the salsa aisle of the grocery store.

The dish was so overseasoned we resorted to filling up on less-than-appealing sides canned black beans and squash topped with unseasoned breadcrumbs and undercooked bacon.

Luckily, our meal ended on a high note with the Que Pasa Supreme ($4.50), a unique creation part blondie, part spice cake topped with dried cranberries and an addictively sweet icing.

Considering its unique menu, beautiful interior and prime location in a neighborhood hungry for dining options, I know Que Pasa has much more potential than is currently realized. So, what's happening?