The La Jolla restaurant formerly known as Fresh[er] has undergone some daring changes despite an established clientele, which would prevent most restaurateurs from taking a gamble.

Owner Arturo Kassel has renamed it Whisknladle, a quirky yet telling indication of his longtime philosophy that “what you put into the pot is what you get out of the pot.” Toss in the notion of a whisk and ladle parked near the stove, and visions of comfort food stamped with an earnest soul wholly emerge, at which point the Amish-sounding name doesn’t seem so risky after all.

Yet for those staid palates stuck on Asian fusion and weightless California cuisine of the last decade, Whisknladle’s homey menu might send them running. For my companion and I, the new “everything-homemade” concept kept us planted firmly in our seats.

A paddled board holding house-cured meats and artisan cheeses made for a fine introduction to the culinary revisions set by Kassel and Chef Ryan Johnston. It contained a thick square of lip-smacking paté made of pork shoulder and duck liver. Entombed in the center was a chunk of pinkish pork tenderloin, a little bland compared to the paté, but offering a favorable contrast in texture. And from a cedar kitchen closet built during the remodel were slices of Tuscan-style salami and spicy chorizo resembling pepperoni, accompanied by wedges of Humboldt Fog goat cheese and mild manchego. Small dollops of mustard, pickled onions and cornichons (baby pickles) were the acidic complements to this superb, fat-laden appetizer.

What a surprise it was to see roasted bone marrow also listed among the starter courses! The decadent, mealy substance may appeal less to culinary conformists than it will to “real foodies.” To our disappointment, however, there was a heavy infusion of parsley and preserved lemon stuffed into the bone, which ultimately stole the show.

Chili, basil and Italian fish sauce cloak Jidori chicken wings, providing a sweet and snappy flavor to the skins, although I could have withstood more crunch. Another starter, fondue made of raclette cheese, was much saltier and less pungent than its un-pasteurized European counterpart, which I’ve eaten several times overseas. My companion didn’t complain though, considering that it was his first encounter with raclette. And the chef’s presentation was on target, serving it customarily with cooked potatoes for dipping.

Equally novel was halibut ceviche, served not in the ubiquitous martini glass, rather, draped across a plate carpaccio style. The paper-thin slices absorbed waves of good flavors from blood orange sections, cilantro, avocado and raw almonds. Simpler and wildly sensational was an order of fresh grilled asparagus anointed with shaved manchego cheese and Meyer lemon.

Much of the culinary “action” exists in the top portion of the menu, where you’ll also find roasted sweetbreads, beet-tangerine salad and ravioli stuffed with local greens and ricotta. The lineup gives way to about eight full-size entrees that are more domesticated, such as Niman Ranch hangar steak, spicy ahi tuna and braised lamb. Nearly every dish is propped up with various veggies that the chef purchases daily from Chino Farms.

My companion scored well with papperadelle bolognese involving wide homemade noodles and meat sauce comprised of pancetta, chuck steak, cream and a hint of tomatoes. Though excellent, we would’ve welcomed an extra ladle of the mixture over the pasta.

I took the Southern route with fried Jidori chicken, a breast, thigh and drum encased in crispy batter laced with a scant measure of buttermilk that I struggled to detect. Served with cubed potatoes, a fluff of watercress and harissa (Tunisian chili paste), the meal seemed more like a cousin to classic Southern Fried chicken than a close sibling. It was tasty nonetheless as evidenced by the aftermath of bare bones we left behind.

Kassel and Johnston say they will continue instilling adventure into the cuisine by eventually purchasing a whole cow, for example, and using every part of it for upcoming menu changes – the tongue, cheeks, tail, etc. It’s an idealistic, labor-intensive approach to cooking that already puts homemade pasta, bread and ice cream on our plates. Even the syrups used in some of the inventive cocktails are made in house.

Careful attention is paid to the wine list as well, which covers a broad spectrum of labels from global wineries – most of them sold by the bottle.

Kassel has successfully transformed the vibe from his Fresh[er] days, adding a sleek bar lounge and neutralizing the color scheme on the main, semi-enclosed dining patio. His young, blue-jeaned wait staff is professional and knowledgeable about the food while helping to eliminate the stiffness inherent to La Jolla dining.