Big Promise, Bright Flashes at Tiny Andre

The 19th century French writer Brillat-Savarin wrote that the discovery of a new dish does more for mankind than the discovery of a new star. By that logic, the discovery of a new chef has to be worth a constellation.

Come and see stars yourself at Andre Restaurant on Balboa Island, where Vietnamese-French chef Andre Lechien is wowing the locals.

This tiny, intimate restaurant looks almost exactly as it did when it was Tete-a-Tete.

The chef handles the kitchen, while his American-born wife, Megan, waits the tables.

The couple have retained the framed oil paintings, flower-print banquettes and captain’s-quarters ambience that made Tete-a-Tete so charming.

But appearances can be deceiving. Lechien is a young man with a resume that would be the envy of any chef I know, having worked in four three-star kitchens in France: Robuchon, Marc Veyrat, Paul Bocuse and Bernard Loiseau. Lechien runs a grown-up restaurant, even though the space it occupies can’t be more than 10 feet across.

In my view, only the small size of this menu and absence of more sophisticated ingredients stand between Lechien and fame. I’d love to taste his interpretation of top quality foie gras, Petaluma duck or even baby vegetables. For now, we have to settle for New Zealand mussels, Atlantic salmon and a reasonably tender rack of lamb persillade.

My estimation of Lechien’s potential is based on flashes of brilliance he’s shown. On more than one occasion, he dazzled my table with amuse-gueules (tiny first bites to tease the palate) and other little surprises.

On my most recent visit, the chef started everyone off with delicate scallop sashimi sprinkled with a spice mixture dominated by saffron and coriander. He also sent out zucchini flowers stuffed with an emince of wild mushrooms, perhaps the most exquisite thing I’ve eaten in his restaurant.

Lechien calls his food “extraordinary cuisine,” and sometimes it lives up to the billing.

Like his mentors in France, he combines Asian and European sensibilities in creating dishes on a menu that is changed every season. His salad of smoked salmon is basically very French, a mound of greens with a truffle vinaigrette, but the garnish of crisped salmon skin and slightly seared pieces of smoked salmon are Japanese in spirit.

The cucumber salad--unusual in that the vegetable has been spiral-cut into a long ring--balances the sweetness of cucumber with pickled red onions and sake. Mussels are prepared the way snails usually are in this country, smothered in garlic butter and chopped parsley. I like to imagine how good the dish would be if the chef replaced the big, mealy, green-lipped mussels he uses with better-textured, more complexly flavored mussels, say from Prince Edward Island.

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There are fusion dishes as well. Shiitake and oyster mushroom ravioli combines Japanese mushrooms, a won-ton skin pasta wrapper and a French-style reduction of Port wine; it’s a conceit that will work best for those who like their sauces sweet. Breast of duck comes in an even sweeter honey ginger sauce, which I find cloying. The duck is cooked pink, and the slices are topped with toasted sesame seeds and surrounded by a necklace of caramelized turnips.

Salmon seared on one side, the menu tells us, is made with Meaux mustard “Ambroisie way,” paying homage to yet another three-star chef, Bernard Pacaud of L’Ambroisie in Paris. The salmon, a ruddy chunk rubbed with coarse salt, looks rather majestic on its perch of green cabbage perfumed with a hint of cumin. The mustard comes across as a faint echo, rather than the roar it becomes when overused.

Monkfish roast is a chunk of the boned, handsomely braised fish in a highly eccentric sauce of fennel and blood orange juice. Shrimp and scallops saute is notable not so much for its light pink peppercorn jus but for the judicious use of soy in the sauce, where its saltiness accentuates the sweetness of the shellfish.

Lovers of red meat must choose between filet mignon Bearnaise or rack of lamb. The filet is presented in a moat of buttery pureed potatoes, the Bearnaise sauce dribbled around the side. The lamb rack consists of four individual chops in a red wine and sweet garlic reduction.

By the way, I wouldn’t call Lechien’s entrees tall food, but they’re all big on tall garnishes--potato straws, long strands of pasta protruding from pools of sauce or elaborately sculpted vegetables.

Desserts are limited to a small selection because the chef insists on doing everything himself, hence they are made with great care.

The list is topped by an impeccable chocolate marquise, a dense, mousse-like slice surrounded by creme Anglaise. Clafouti is a pie crust topped with a custard-like filling laced with fresh raspberries. The tarte tatin is made a la minute; that is, to order. It may actually take up to 15 minutes, but this round of puff pastry topped with caramelized apples would be worth twice the wait.

Andre Restaurant has been open only four months and has not yet acquired such resources as fine stemware and crockery to enhance the fine cooking.

The wine list is also limited, and the restaurant’s corkage fee of $10 is an alternative that some diners may wish to exercise while the house list is under construction.

Andre Restaurant is expensive. First courses are $5 to $9. Entrees are $17.50 to $22. Desserts are $4 to $6.50.

* ANDRE RESTAURANT

* 217 Marine Ave., Balboa Island.

* (714) 673-0570.

* Dinner only, 6-10 p.m. Tuesday-Sunday.

* All major cards.