Aura doesn't even have its own space, set off as it is from the Seaport's lobby only by a long, mullioned screen of blond wood. It has the generic wall hangings and beigeness of a room designed to fade into its own background. Even so, I was interested in eating there, because Ed Doyle's work at the brewery was clever enough that I wanted to see what he could do without a brewpub's requirements keeping him in check. A convention hotel, it turns out, imposes its own set of requirements. Doyle is good with presentation, and there are indeed exquisite aspects to a meal at Aura.
Presents are nice, but so is sensible service.
It seems to be a matter of policy not to deliver menus until the wine list has been examined, and drinks have been ordered, served, and nursed a bit. The menus came eventually, as did bread plucked with tongs from a basket, but I didn't understand the wait. The texture of the final soup was grainy and even, nicely executed but a little plain, livening up whenever the bacon got involved. The fish, stuffed with rosemary sprigs and slices of preserved lemon, was indeed delicious, moist and steaming under the skin, light-fleshed and substantial. The mingled aromas of cedar and rosemary lent a woodsy air to our table.