When California Cuisine opened nearly 30 years ago in Hillcrest, it resonated to a namesake genre of food that soon became the buzz among chefs and consumers all over the country.

What exactly was this newfangled fare?

It’s unclear whether the restaurant’s original founders had fully grasped the tenets of “California cuisine” by the time they sold the business in 1985 to current owner Stella Kalamaras. But the name they chose undoubtedly jived to a gastronomic movement in our state that saw disparate culinary influences land onto single plates. Locally grown ingredients used to construct these fused masterpieces further defined the term, which remains cemented in the foundation of modern-day healthful eating.

Off and on, California Cuisine has soaked its feet in – you guessed it – California cuisine, while also toggling over the years between American-comfort and French-inspired cooking. And let’s not forget that Chris Walsh of Bite emerged from this kitchen after exposing us way back when to nouvelle dishes crafted artfully to a young and powerful dining trend.

A balance has been struck with the current guard. Executive chef William Todd Atcheson and sous chef Rodney J. Robinson have both worked here for several years, adhering to an organic-fresh standard that seasoned diners nowadays have come to expect no matter where they eat. The menu changes almost daily, which fits into a 21st Century genre that can be safely labeled “chameleon cuisine.” (Words like “global” and “contemporary” are getting old to me.)

New to the restaurant, if you haven’t visited in the past six months, is CC Lounge, an art-filled breezeway that sits between the sleek front dining room and the pretty back patio. Conceived by fashion-conscious General Manager Robert Romano, the lounge serves as a hangout for those wishing to skip the white-linen fare in lieu of crafty libations and casual nibbles.

Arriving for a front-of-the-house meal on a Sunday evening, and after a reported hectic Restaurant Week, every table in the room became occupied – a telling clue of the restaurant’s longtime following. Our meal began on low notes and swerved to a much brighter pitch as we went along.

A liquidy Baja pork and white bean stew, for example, lacked the starring ingredients and tasted much like tomato-y minestrone sans any physical matter. In a divided order, I fished two small pieces of pork from my bowl and my friend didn’t find any in his. As for the beans, they were scant and tiny. Fresh ricotta gnudi (doughless ravioli), kissed by a smidgen of lemon zest, were good on their own until joining forces with salty and acidic braised tomatoes on the plate. The presence of gnudi on the menu, however, is on-trend and proves that the chef stays attuned to the latest and greatest innovations of the fine-dining scene.

The lobster bisque here is magnificent, and we would unexpectedly encounter it again as a sauce for scallops. The recipe uses whole lobsters – the shells and all, plus accurate measures of what I’m guessing included robust chicken broth, butter and sherry. Or was that Cognac? Either way, the flavors were muscular as pieces of fresh avocado and gently cooked lobster meat welled from the bottom of our bowls.

My friend proceeded to a satisfying Bosc pear and gorgonzola salad – one of those dishes that I’m afraid will cling onto restaurant menus as long as ahi tuna has, which the menu thankfully lacked the night of our visit. The addition of Belgian endive in the salad, however, provided a mild sense of novelty.

We deferred to our sharp, young waiter for entrée recommendations. And he steered us right. The thick Niman Ranch pork chop (a rich shoulder cut) is a mainstay, and on this particular evening, the meat glistened with bourbon glace that meshed swimmingly with juicy apple-cherry-apricot compote served alongside. Bulking up the meal was one of the best preparations of sweet potatoes my lips ever encountered, a gratin layered with smoked Gouda and bits of bacon. At last, a savory version of sweet potatoes that screams, “To hell with the brown sugar and butter.”

Our other entrée, Mano de Leon scallops with fingerling potatoes, was presented in a pond of the lobster bisque, which formed a natural partnership with the plump, pan-seared bivalves. Smoked bacon hiding in the dish contrasted nicely with the sweet essence of the seafood. Strangely, we received four scallops, while two customers who ordered the same dish at a table next to us each got three. We hardly complained. All meals involved came with fresh string beans, carrots and broccoli, which in our case at least, were flawlessly par-cooked and laced lightly in butter.

Desserts are made in-house, including various sorbets. The grapefruit sorbet charmed my companion, although I felt it lacked zing. Chocolate gateau and white chocolate cheesecake were toothsome, each served on exceptionally large plates beckoning to the showiness of California cuisine two decades ago.

The restaurant is a hospitable anchor to the Hillcrest dining scene, offering more hits than misses while sticking deftly to the culinary fads of today and tomorrow.