It’s an undiscovered restaurant with a most unusual fish in residence. Sierra Pacific has pretty much escaped the radar of local foodies because of its concealed location inside the Hilton on Harbor Island Drive. Unless you keep a vessel berthed in the scenic backyard marina, or overcome the myth that hotel restaurants exist only for tourists, you’ll sadly miss out on a peaceful top-dining experience that isn’t easily found on San Diego’s beaten track.

You would also never get the chance to meet Chopper, an 18-year-old puffer fish with big puppy-dog eyes that frantically wags his cartoonish body and floppy fins at anyone who approaches his tank. He’s like a beagle without legs – a freak of nature that wants nothing more than to leap from the water and cuddle in your lap.

Chopper’s aquarium is among four others gracing the two-tiered dining room, which is pleasantly dominated by an up-close view of Harbor Island Marina. French doors open to a balcony that runs the entire length of the restaurant, including an adjoining bar lounge. And the absence of hubbub in a city that’s becoming known for its “get ‘em in, get ‘em out” dining scene allows you to loiter guiltlessly over your food and drinks – and take in plenty of winking from that darling fish.

Sierra’s sauce-savvy executive chef, Mary Trimmins, recently rolled out a new menu that incorporates a touch of Asian influence into cuisine that is both traditional and contemporary. Her Seared Scallops in sesame oil, for example, are laced with a spunky Szechuan tomato sauce that my dining companion and I went gaga over. And the Chicken Lettuce Wraps, also from the appetizer list, took on the added zest of assorted peppers from a drizzling of piri piri oil.

Innovative sauces reign over many of the main courses as well. Ginger and mint are cleverly united to form a refreshing glace for the Herb-Crusted Lamb Chops, which kept my companion reciting “oh my god” down to the very last bone. The plate contained eight tender French-cut chops arranged like an accordion around some tasty roasted potatoes and steamed baby carrots.

And in what appeared like savory gravy sticking to my Old Fashioned Pork Chop turned out to be an outstanding orange-rosemary sauce that tasted tailor-made for pork. The meat was thick and tender, although the sharpest utensils included with our silverware were spiky butter knives, which didn’t allow for precision cutting.

We somehow managed to adopt a third stomach when wolfing down yet another entrée of Crab Stuffed Prawns dusted in Panko bread crumbs and bathed in a delicious sun-dried tomato sauce. We were clearly on an unstoppable roll, given the fact we had previously slurped down one of the most flavorful black bean soups I have ever tasted. The kitchen would be wise, we felt, to add this spicy vegetable-based soup to its permanent menu rather than occasionally offering it as a special.

If you’re a red wine lover, I highly recommend Valley of the Moon cabernet from Sonoma, which sells for $8 a glass. It’s one of those smooth magical reds that matched up well to the lively meat and seafood dishes we discovered here.

Other temptations on Trimmins’ succinct supper menu include Grilled Chicken Breast with teriyaki-apricot sauce, Filet Mignon with peppercorn-mushroom sauce and Sautéed Scallops with mustard-garlic sauce. An obliging selection of entrée salads is also available, including a hearty Sierra Pacific Cobb or Spinach with mango and mandarin oranges.

Additionally, the restaurant recently launched a series of $9.95 dinner specials on Wednesdays and Fridays that feature monthly rotations of mixed fish-fry, ribs, meatloaf and salmon Caesars.

Desserts here cross into sinful territory. Our calorie intake flew off the chart with a decadent Caramel Sundae served in a martini glass and an elaborate creation called The Oriental. The latter features passion fruit mousse shaped into a sleek mold with a dark chocolate palet inside. Both were excellent.

We had shamelessly made it to the finishing without leaving behind a single morsel of food or popping a zipper. And judging from Chopper’s rapturous break dance and pet-like stare as we exited, I could swear he was expecting a doggie bag.