If I were to compile a mid-year roundup of favorite restaurants for 2008, Clay’s La Jolla would sparkle at the top of my list – from 11 floors high to be exact. What used to be Elario’s in the penthouse of Hotel La Jolla is now a stylishly redeemed dining room upholding sweeping views of land and sea, and with a starring new owner who serves as kitchen maestro.

Clay Bordan presents his namesake restaurant after cheffing 13 years for American Property Management Corporation, which had him opening new kitchens and revamping outdated ones all over the country.

Here, he’s combined his culinary expertise with an eye for design, transforming the formerly stale-looking space into a tasty sky perch replete with mossy green upholstery, light mustard walls, mahogany accents and a handsome cocktail and sushi lounge. An open kitchen between lounge and dining room teases the senses with tantalizing smells and sizzling sounds while floor-to-ceiling windows provide a dizzying view of hillside residences sloping up from La Jolla Cove. It’s 21st Century, atmospheric dining at its best.

Bordan’s dishes leave long, pleasing finishes on the tongue, hitting every receptor zone with a random succession of sweet, spicy, sour and earthy. His ahi tuna tower, for instance, is a superb and intricate creation of Japanese cucumber providing a refreshing crunch against soft, pliant mango and ahi rising vertically from a foundation of nutty-tasting purple Thai rice. Ginger-guava mustard and pomegranate reduction on the plate added intriguing complexity.

The chef scored additional homeruns in the appetizer category with coconut tiger prawns and pan-seared sea scallops, which were anything but ordinary. A skewer anchored into a wedge of pineapple acted as a totem pole for the prawns, appearing similar to elaborate versions of Thai sarong shrimp, except that the mondo crustaceans were encased in toasted coconut rather than crispy noodles. Too many times when I’ve eaten coconut shrimp, they tasted like donut holes. But not these, as Bordan relies on white peach jam, and I’m guessing fresh, unsweetened coconut, to avoid that frou-frou sugary aftertaste.

As for the scallops, they were large, bulbous creatures smeared in a mesmerizing honey-ginger sauce and laced with “chive essence.” Served in a pair, they sat atop scallion griddlecakes that my companion and I agreed played a neutral role against the sweet, pearly sea meat.

As muted orange light began filling the room from a postcard sunset, I thought about the restaurant’s unassuming location in this hotel of such vapid exterior architecture, kind of like a Holiday Inn from three decades ago. But at the top, you get the feeling that Clay’s is one of San Diego’s newest and best kept secrets – but after two years in operation, it really isn’t. By the time we dove into our main courses, the area’s well-heeled cliques began permeating both the bar lounge and comfy dining room.

The exquisite alchemy of flavors achieved in our starters proved consistent throughout our meal. Cedar-roasted wild salmon was extraordinary, a fleshy woodsy-tasting filet sitting in a puddle of sweet yellow pepper broth along with Maui onion risotto and English peas that tasted like they were just picked from a nearby garden.

My companion’s entrée was a finely marbled filet mignon flanked by two appealing sauces: demi glace made with trumpet mushrooms and a thin heirloom tomato cheese “fondue.” Fontina potato gratin – less oozy and starchy than standard gratins – added further joy.

A la carte side dishes feature both the onion risotto and fontina potatoes, along with white corn bread pudding, grilled asparagus, baby organic carrots and more. We chose French and yellow wax beans, presented upright in miniature glasses and brushed with a little garlic butter – exactly how our mothers never served them. A second side dish, butternut squash ravioli, was the only item on our table that evening that I didn’t enjoy because of the copious amounts of sage and cream in the sauce. Clarified butter combined with less of the herb would’ve complimented the delicate ravioli much better, I feel.

Bordan says that he grew up in a family that made everything from scratch, a standard that carries over distinctly into his own cooking. And his presentations reign supreme, as every dish that leaves the kitchen seems poised for a best-of-show competition.

He changes the menu seasonally, with choices that currently include seared Maple Leaf Farms duck breast, Chilean sea bass with tangelo-ginger glaze and Niman Ranch pork porterhouse with summer veggies.

The drink list includes sakes and sochu’s that match up to some of the menu’s Asian elements. Wines by the glass are limited, and bottle selections might seem a little pedestrian if you’re on the hunt for obscure labels, although the list is ever-changing.

Bordan also acts as pastry chef, which means all desserts are made in-house. His lava cake is gooey and delicious and pointed up with zingy berry compote. And the peach crisp is equally tantalizing, albeit a misnomer since the “crust” resembles a soft pancake blanketing over the fresh fruit.

Whether you’re looking for a place to impress out-of-town company or celebrate a special occasion – or if you’re simply itching to ascend off the beaten dining track – Clay’s La Jolla puts you where you need to be.