If you entered Bing Crosby’s Restaurant and Piano Bar blindfolded, you’d never guess when opening your eyes that hordes of mall rats are scampering just outside the door. The 10,000-square-foot structure, with its arrestingly graceful front entrance, replaces the former Crocodile Café at the east end of Fashion Valley Mall. It is the third enterprise paying homage to the singing legend, with other locations bestowed to Walnut Creek and Rancho Mirage.

What isn’t surprising is that beautiful Bing’s is corporate owned – by a firm called Dudam Sports and Entertainment. Surely, no sole proprietor or amateur partnership can afford to plop down $4 million for a restaurant of this scale in today’s unfriendly economy.

Rich woods, plush fabrics and scads of framed photos from Crosby’s personal collection flow opulently through the high-ceiling space in a classical style fitting of the Waldorf Astoria. On one side is a spacious lounge replete with marble tables, leathery chairs, a handsome cocktail bar and a platform stage housing a polished grand piano for nightly entertainment. The other side boasts a dining room with a bygone supper club feel, cushier than any you’ve ever seen connected to a mall.

Which leads me to wonder: Are consumers who shop for spiritual fulfillment likely to dabble in foie gras and aged Port during their daylong sprees? And conversely, will culinary sophisticates turn a blind eye to the hyperactive mall culture surrounding these fine edibles? If the restaurant passes that critical one-year mark next fall, we can presume the answer to both is “yes.”

Crosby’s illustrious career as a singer, movie actor and supporting developer of the Del Mar Race Track afforded him a privileged lifestyle that we get to taste in the form of finely prepared dishes once reserved for the upper class some 50 years ago. On the appetizer list, for example, there’s steak tartare with quail eggs, oysters Rockefeller, foie gras with scallops and dramatically presented jumbo shrimp cocktail served on a chalice over fogging dry ice.

Corporate chef Frank Palmer mixes the past with the present, as the menu yields also to things like barbecued duck crepes (sold out on this visit) and trio of Ahi tuna, which my companion and I rated as good, clean California cuisine of more recent days. We also tried Dungeness crab cakes, a disappointment because the innards were mushy and the plate came out suspiciously fast. But the saucier did well, adorning the precooked cakes with sweet tomato-ginger chutney and buttery champagne beurre blanc.

Salads are hearty, as we discovered with the “Crosby’s signature” medley featuring baby lettuces, still-juicy sun-dried tomatoes, aged Pecorino and pistachio-currant vinaigrette used ever so lightly.

Another signature dish, though from the entrée list, is grilled filet mignon with black truffle demi glace. It’s a fancy presentation involving three labor-intensive potato “cannelloni” standing upright against the nicely marbled meat. My companion vouched for sole amandine, with the fish lacking “soul,” but served over a bed of exceptional red rice pilaf strewn with wheatberries – not the stuff you’ll encounter in the upstairs food court.

About 10 side dishes are available ala Carte. And those we tried exceeded in quality the usual peripherals served in many leading steakhouses. Buttery brocccolini was so fresh, “you could taste the vitamins,” my companion commented. Creamed spinach rose above the norm, thanks to the addition of leeks providing a hint of anise. And squash-mushroom risotto was thick and dreamy in comparison to potato gratin, which we quickly cast aside due to excess cream lurking between the layers.

Wine and cocktails abound, some named to reflect Crosby’s legacy, such as the Stoli-infused “bada Bing” topped with prosecco and blueberry pomegranate juice, or the dessert-y “white Christmas,” evoking for me the memory of Crosby singing the namesake song in a 70’s duet with David Bowie.

But the photographs plastering these walls arch back to years prior, showing Crosby hobnobbing with the likes of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Bob Hope and a host of other Hollywood types who were an integral part of Crosby’s prolific stardom.

Yes, it’s a theme restaurant attached to a mall. Yet the era of houndstooth sports jackets and silk ascots is tastefully captured with some surprisingly good meals to boot.