THE MODADA MYSTIQUE : Dali Lobster, Surreal Eel, Erotic Chicken, P Soup: Wit, Whimsy--and Adventure

The plain wooden facade doesn’t give much away. Pale seaweed and fish traced on the milky glass window waver in the lights of passing cars. For weeks there wasn’t even a sign. Modada? Bemused, I step inside.

Coltrane snarls in the background. A small, neat bar is faced in copper. Candles in glass sconces bounce light off the burnished walls. Tables are set with heavy silver and oversized wineglasses. The effect is charming and oddly sophisticated.

I take one of the booths covered in boldly patterned African mud cloth and black patent leather. Saucy little chairs are upholstered in the matte fabric, too. I sip a glass of almond-scented La Gitana manzanilla and peruse the menu, divided into courses called Air, Land, Sea. I’m pondering a breathless description--”envision a braised lamb leg, a grilled lamb chop, and a lamb loin wrapped in feuille de brik , all seen in the Lamb in 3-D. Served au jus with Moroccan mint oil”--when the rest of my party slips into the booth. We immediately get down to business: What’s for dinner in this uncharted land?

I have high hopes. Someone has put a lot of thought into the entire restaurant experience, from the music and the charming cigar box of breads to the way waiters have been trained to pour the wine. That someone is Sam Marvin, a home-grown chef who has cooked around France, at Patina and at the Monkey Bar. In this new place, he is joined by his childhood buddy, Rosie Rosen, a veteran of the restaurant and club scene here and in Aspen.

“Green eggs and ham,” announces our waiter as he sets down a bit of prosciutto with American caviar tinged green by wasabe. And we’re off to a whimsical Dr. Seuss start. Shiny black mussels arrive in a pint-sized silver watering can, fragrant with lemon grass and showered with frizzled leeks. “P soup” takes my fancy: a clear, delicious broth in which peas, pea pods, pea shoots, black-eyed peas and pale green pea dumplings float. I love the pillar of crab and artichoke confit, layered with pole beans sticking out in all directions, everything doused in a distinctive mango vinaigrette. “The Surreal Eel” is an inspired takeoff on crab cakes, pan-sauteed and made with freshwater unagi . It’s accompanied by a spicy tartar sauce and a little crock of lime aioli.

“Should I have the Dali lobster or the special?” asks the New Englander at our table, flirting with our young waiter. “I really love lobster,” she says with an impish grin. He swears the lobster is totally divine. The special is divine, too, he hastens to add, but admits he hasn’t tasted it yet. Lobster it is, pale chunks, perfectly cooked, played against saffron mashed potatoes, wild mushrooms and a tangy apple jus. It works. So does a special: Two quail eggs astride a dry-aged piece of New York strip make steak and eggs Modada, which is served with a big, bold, vinegary “pan-made” steak sauce. When I hear our hard-boiled New Yorker pipe up, “I’ll have the ‘Erotic Chicken,’ ” I sputter. But that turns out to be the best dish, a whole, boned young chicken glazed mahogany with a sumptuous stuffing of wild mushrooms and herbs served over purple endives and with a garnish of rose petals.

On subsequent visits, I’ve struck gold: Indochine pork ribs with a haystack of fried sweet potato. Beguiling seared scallop-and-leek tart, deconstructed into fat scallops on a bed of caramelized leeks flanked by a tall marrow bone sporting a chapeau of marrow toast. Sturgeon smothered in its own caviar.

I’ve struck out, too: seaweed salad, Wild West cassoulet with sweet-glazed duck and undercooked beans (later pulled from the menu, which shows Marvin can own up to a mistake). He’s attempting a lot here, and he doesn’t always have it under control. Witty-sounding fondue for two with “Parisian accessories” is a workmanlike fondue accompanied by good walnut bread, a glass of apple cider or red wine, and chunks of icy cold potatoes, salami and sharp, vinegared pearl onions to dip in the fondue. Brrr.

Modada’s wine list is fairly priced, filled with interesting choices from far and wide, like a Sancerre Rose (Paul Cotat) $24, an ’88 Rioja reserve (Marques de Riscal) $18, or the ’88 Chianti Buccerchiale (Salvapiana) $27, all of which can hold their own against Marvin’s charged-up cooking.

The dessert of note is the “King” cake, a rich confection of nut paste folded into a neat packet of filo. Espresso arrives in tiny porcelain cups emblazoned with Man Ray’s famous image of a wide-awake, black-lashed eye. And as we saunter out into the night, our farewell is an existential question mark bolted to the door.

Modada, 8115 Melrose Ave., Los Angeles; (213) 653-4612. Closed Mondays . No lunch served yet. Beer and wine. Smoking permitted at bar. Valet parking. Dinner for two, food only, $46-$64. Corkage, $8.