Losing a dominant personality and shutting down for a month would be the death knell for most restaurants. But after reopening in June with Jaromír Froulík replacing Rudolf Doležal in the kitchen, Atelier is once again operating in good form.

Very good form, actually. The crčme brělée, seared tableside with what amounts to a hot branding iron and served with a crumbly, bittersweet, perfectly caramelized crust over delicate custard, ranks as one of the best I've ever tried. Paired with an excellent cup of undiluted espresso (a novelty in Prague), it's a nice finish on an evening well spent.

Plan on spending time in Atelier's dining room. Chef Froulík and his lone assistant, Petr Kubišta, refuse to rush things. Sitting out back on the patio on one visit, I watched as they started each course only as I was finishing the previous one. So I had to wait and sip a drink and poke at their less-than-impressive bread basket. But if you've sawed through meals prepared prematurely and then hastily reheated, you'll appreciate their painstaking efforts.

Certainly you will when appetizers like smoked trout arrive at the table. Moist, firm, flaky and cured over a fine haze of smoldering wood, much of its natural flavor remains. Dip a piece into the accompanying avocado parfait and all those flavors fade into the distance, then suddenly spring forward at the end. Try it with a forkful of wine jelly, the second and more savory side item. Briny, smoky, sharp elements burst into the forefront before the gelatin slams everything shut with a quick sweet-tart finish. Pull all three together and they transform into a complex and satisfying experience. It's an extraordinary starter.

Another visit for a weekday lunch started with an appetizer special. The restaurant regularly features different starters, meats and a "fish of the day," which in this case turned out to be quite small rusty mussels, many of which refused to open when heated. Normally, that's a signal to wave off the platter. But the sauce, a kind of crčme anglaise with brandy, garlic and other seasonings, proved so compelling — and filling — that sending it back seemed tantamount to sacrilege.

Fat, after all, is good. Nice, creamy fat with a high, sweet note concealing the harsher resonance of garlic? That's beautiful.

The kitchen reserves brash combinations for the entrées, like butterfish wrapped with a sun-dried tomato in proscuitto. Butterfish resembles catfish in flavor and texture, a strong and almost primordial taste. Parma ham is flagrantly salty and rich, while sun-dried tomatoes convey a fierce tartness. Every ingredient fights for dominance over the others, each refusing to budge, spurred on by a pleasantly weird sauce that mimics the other elements — plus a scattering of olives, no slouch in the potency department. The only referee for this battle royale is a sedate mound of herbal mashed potatoes.

That's the genius (and savior) of this flurry of smashing roundhouses — proletarian mashed potatoes. They act as a salve, calming the more violent flavors and tempering the hard contrasts, until the warring sides begin to drop their argument and a brash but intricate dish emerges.

The rabbit fillet attempts the same Darwinian approach. This time a piercing, briny mélange of artichoke with blanched tomatoes of the now-familiar sun-dried variety stand ready to trade punches with the other, other white meat. Unfortunately, the rabbit refuses to defend itself. It was, on one visit, a meek cut, so flavorless that it might as well have been called commercial farm chicken. What should have been another explosive, intriguing culinary experience, with wild, gamey rabbit facing the stinging barbs of artichoke and tomato, ended as a disappointingly one-sided affair.

Yet the flaw was in the product, not technique. Near-perfect work in the kitchen often salvages shortcomings like dead mussels and bland white meat.

In many ways Atelier resembles Oliva, the new haunt of its former chef. Both seem to care about food preparation and quality, as well as providing a nice dining experience for well under 1,000 Kč ($45) per head. Perhaps they're the forerunners of Prague's long-awaited culinary renaissance.