HIGH-TECH SUSHI BAR WITH PLANTS : CALIFORIENTAL CUISINE FOR THE HEALTH-FOOD CROWD

It looks like a big turquoise jukebox from the outside, a jukebox with a neon sign advertising dim sum.

The name is Ho Sum Bistro, which leads one to think that this brand-new place--just three weeks old--aims to be a stylish hangout. The owners, who also own Chin Chin in Los Angeles, seem to be gambling that Newport Beach will not only call ahead for takeout but start drifting into Ho Sum Bistro to sip the odd Chardonnay and graze through its menu of “Califoriental Cuisine.” (I didn’t make that up.)

On the inside, this bistro looks like something between a sushi bar and a high-tech fast-food outlet with exotic plants. The display kitchen is surprisingly large, crowding out some of the dining space (they may be figuring on a lot of takeout business anyway). Seating is mostly stools at counters rather than tables, although some counters do face windows and have a view.

As for the name Ho Sum, it’s actually the English word “wholesome.” (I didn’t make that up either.) There’s a bit of health-food consciousness here: harmless fruit sorbets among the desserts, a vegetarian mu shu (this is a menu that actually uses the word “veggies”).

What Califoriental Cuisine translates to is an eclectic, but basically Cantonese, repertoire. And I must say, it is fun. On the whole, the dishes--mostly light snacks--are engaging.

The crepes served here are extremely light and fine. So fine, in fact, that they are virtually unable to perform their task of, say, holding the mu shu together. But still they are something to marvel at. As for the mu shu , it’s OK, though I don’t see any tiger lily buds; and if there is plum sauce, it’s on the subtle side.

The crepes figure in the clever “California crepe salad,” a mixture of sprouts and cabbage and such--in effect, a salad--wrapped in a crepe. It has faint Vietnamese overtones and even comes with a dipping sauce, but a truly Califoriental one: poppy seed vinaigrette.

The menu’s real emphasis is dim sum and noodles. The best of the dim sum probably are the pot stickers because of their lively ginger sauce, but everything is fun. There are tiny meat dumplings in a hot green sauce that is probably minced cilantro, poached wontons in a red pepper sauce, fried wontons served with a somewhat faint apricot dipping sauce and a decent spring roll without a drop of oil (this place uses good fresh oil, so you don’t smell the usual Chinese restaurant aroma of scorched, overused oil). Then there are the “dumplings stuffed with meat-vegetable quenelles, “ which are soft, probably steamed dumplings filled with pork and cabbage in a very enjoyable light sauce of vinegar and soy.

The quaintest dish among the noodles is “noodles Marco Polo”--a nice meaty Oriental mixture of ground pork with red pepper sauce--served on Italian spaghetti. Ho, ho. Actually, it’s pretty good. The best pasta, though, is the tai tai mein , or cold noodles and sprouts in an addictive peanut butter dressing flavored with red pepper and ginger.

There also are three pretty good meat dishes. Sichuan chicken is simply roasted and served with a bit of garlicky-gingery hot sauce. The excellent barbecued spare ribs, like the pork cha sui (barbecued pork loin, sliced in faintly nouvelle cuisine fashion), comes with an attractive sweet brown sauce that tastes as if it has honey in it.

The “cold dishes” section of the menu is evidently meant to accompany wine--a selection of some of the fancier California wines appears Magic Markered on a mirror. Some are rather bland in themselves, like drunken chicken--which is plain, cold poached chicken--or the aromatic peanuts, which are boiled rather than roasted and served with a thin sauce flavored with star anise. They must be getting mixed reactions from these peanuts, which taste like somewhat crunchy beans, because half the staff cautiously asked me how I liked them. Not at all bad, in fact, although you do have to get over thinking of them as peanuts.

However, the garlicky vegetable spears and the “crispy cucumbers/cruciferous veggies” are far from bland--they are spicy and at least the latter seem pickled, rather like Korean kim chee. While we’re on vegetables, I’d like to put in a word for a salad that might not leap to your eye. Aunty Ada’s tofu salad is remarkable: cool bland tofu, cut into a wobbly slab of cubes and covered with pickled ginger and minced roasted peanuts.

There are actually some desserts here, and not just the usual almond cookies and ginger ice cream. The candied walnuts, which are excellent, crisp and not over-sweet, would also make good snacks. There are those wholesome fruit sorbets, of course.

Then there are chocolate-dipped fortune cookies, meaning that probably 30% more of these fortune cookies will get eaten than in most Chinese restaurants. A piece of advice: Eat the fortune cookie, extract the fortune like a bone and toss it. These are some of the dullest fortunes I’ve ever read (“I know no way to judge the future but from the past.”) Indeed! Who wants to listen to a diffident oracle?

HO SUM BISTRO 3112 Newport Blvd., Newport Beach

(714) 675-0896

Open for lunch and dinner daily. MasterCard and Visa accepted.