The lobster bisque, for example, resembles something prepared in a smoky Czech pub. Although the pronounced essence of shell and intricacy of a good mirepoix indicates grounding in traditional cooking techniques, a fatal helping of salt quickly bleaches out everything good about the rich soup.

And, inside the exquisitely sparse dining room, occasional plebeian high jinks mar the crafted serenity. One recent Saturday night, with the room suffused in soft piano music and the whispers of couples in designer labels flirting over dinner, a baby-grand fanfare interrupted the moment. Staff members then paraded to a four-top, erupting into a sloppy chorus of "Happy Birthday" along the way — not unlike at T.G.I. Friday's.

Crispy scallops are a masterpiece on the plate: two perfectly seared scallops on a bed of barley and Lardo di Colonnata, densely flavored with seasoned pork fat, which imparts an intense richness on the dish. A reduction based on garlic, roasted or sautéed to break the natural grip of bitterness, becomes a perfect tart-edged saber, slicing through the lavish flavors, flashing brightly before and after each bite without rending them. The effect is sublime — delicate shellfish encrusted by a thin char, dusky grain and silken, savory fat, all pricked by something sour and pungent. It's as if all the elements and sensations known to humankind have been condensed, brought into perfect harmony and presented in the form of an appetizer.

Veal fillet, an entree, is its equal in worldly articulation, tender meat rendered almost superfluous by a surrounding cacophony of bold flavors. Truffles impress the veal and truffle oil seeps through an accompanying mound of mashed potatoes, emerging as the dominant theme while simultaneously coaxing the other ingredients into collusion. Sharp and sweet sides bring highs and lows into absolute contrast, pushing every button, forcing your palate to sort things out. The rhubarb, for instance, normally an intractable beast, exposes new and unexpected levels of flavor in the combination of meat and fungi.

Dinner at Bellevue will turn out to be an expensive evening. Entrees range from close to 700 Kč ($33) on up into the quadruple digits. You are paying for memorable cuisine, though, along with an impressive wine list, informed service and a nearly impeccable atmosphere.

That is, until the wait staff break into another rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday."

Perhaps the only other readily detectable recurring flaw occurs shortly after you enter the room and find your table. Dinner begins, as it tends to at fine-dining establishments, with an amuse bouche. On a visit shortly after Bellevue reopened, the waiter brought vials of a murky soup that turned out to be cream of foie gras. On this last visit, the opener was lukewarm shots of mushroom soup. In neither case are palates titillated, nor are they primed for full expression of the delightful flavors and textures to come.