Bleu Boheme represents both a culmination and new beginning in a string of neighborhood restaurants launched by Paris-born Philippe Beltran, who has given San Diegans a steady dose of French cuisine with cosmopolitan flair since the late 1980s. His kitchen repertoire includes the former French Side of the West and Voyage, La Vache and Vagabond, which operate without Beltran’s involvement.

Now with a newly formed company (Beltran Restaurant Concepts), the Kensington restaurateur’s Bleu Boheme is a fine preview of things to come. Beltran has two other restaurants scheduled to open in Mission Hills and Point Loma.

Wood beams and chairs, deep-blue walls and a corner area flanked in rough-cut limestone distinguish the Euro-chic interior – a stunning contrast to the campy theme of the former Green Tomato. Stick candles adorn linen-draped tables. And off the front bar area is a sizable chamber with a stately atmosphere and a wooden table for large parties.

My companion and I arrived to a full house on a warm night. We sat with our Grey Goose Vodka martinis made with muddled fruit, and another infused with basil and citrus that is the house specialty. Our appetizers, from a menu divided by traditional French classics and seasonal-contemporary fare, were also delightful.

Classic onion soup gratinée was a winner, an above-average broth constructed with savory homemade beef stock that escapes the salt and MSG found in canned consommés. The sugar from the onions escaped beautifully and was a refined pairing with the nutty-tasting Gruyere cheese on top. No less traditional was escargot imported from Burgundy, sautéed liberally in parsley and garlic butter and served with metal tongs to secure the shells while extracting the plump, earthy meat inside. They were among the best snails I’ve eaten in years.

A platter of charcuterie (cured) meats and patés offered the standard arrangement of air-dried salami, duck liver mousse, pork paté, European ham and pancetta laced in sinewy fat that was too tough to bite through. Adding to our pre-entrée courses was the Bleu Boheme salad, boasting spring greens and those glorious heirloom tomatoes now in season. The dressing was supposed to be a simple combination of olive oil and freshly squeezed lemon, but a salty balsamic vinaigrette somehow slipped in and declared war with the citrus.

We sampled the Provençal fish soup, which, compared to the bouillabaisse on the entrée list, was chunky due to the large assortment of fish used to flavor the tomato-cayenne-saffron broth. The soup was rich in taste and texture, and reminded me somewhat of the outstanding lobster bisque made by French Chef Bernard Guillas of the Marine Room.

My companion turned to the seasonal section of the menu for his main course, opting for filet mignon accompanied by three sauces – creamy curry, zesty peppercorn and a viscous port reduction infused supposedly with truffles that we couldn’t detect. The filet arrived medium-rare as ordered, although a little under-whelming in girth and flavor compared to what you’ll find in destination steakhouses. The plate was supported by excellent, ultra-fresh green beans sautéed quickly in oil, plus a generous pile of skinny fries showered in too much salt for our liking.

Coq au vin is a homey winter dish in France. Here, it’s made to my exact liking, with the bone-in chicken braised in red wine and stock just long enough so that the meat falls away from the bone with a gentle nudge of the fork. Unlike some of the poor versions I’ve had in other restaurants, the potatoes and carrots were added in after the chicken started cooking so everything matched in softness. And the dish sported plenty of chicken sections that seemed to keep welling up from the bottom of the crock as I went along with a glass of light-bodied Bordeaux blanc at hand.

Chef Rene Herbeck sticks faithfully to the classic tenets of French cooking when preparing traditional dishes and sauces, while romping through the seasonal half of the menu to unleash his creative prowess. There you will find homemade wild mushroom ravioli in white butter sauce, roasted Atlantic halibut served over “crushed” sautéed potatoes, and chicken breast baked in a clay bowl with bell peppers.

His facile culinary abilities stem from the fact that he is half French and half Vietnamese, having been exposed to a potpourri of cuisine while growing up in the south of France, where he also trained as a chef through restaurant apprenticeships. Not surprisingly, his desserts coddled our taste buds with homemade chocolate mousse that doesn’t get any better, and a thin and buttery apple tart adorned with double crème fraiche.

Bleu Boheme is hip and sophisticated without being too much of either. It’s the type of restaurant that brings dignity to its neighborhood and gives everyone else good reason to traipse off their beaten dining tracks for a worthwhile visit.