The term “room with a view” must have been coined by early patrons of the Marine Room — at a time when Lobster Newburg sold for $1.35 and a stiff martini added only 35 cents to the bill. Those meager prices have long since rolled out with the tide, but the heart-rending Pacific still feels like it’s dancing at your feet no matter what table you land.

Big picture windows separate surf from turf at this landmark restaurant, which opened in 1941 to the omnipresent sight of cresting waves lapping against the structure’s beachfront foundation. Such beauty turned beastly, however, in both 1942 and 1982, when high tides fueled by storms crashed through the windows and left the place in shambles.

The aftermath is well documented in a photo display near the entrance, with a couple of the older images showing employees standing in knee-deep water with some much-needed cocktails in hand. The window glass is triple-layered now. And customers book reservations months in advance to watch the high tides perform while supping on haute cuisine and precious wines.

But low tides yield some sensational scenery, too. Moments after my dining companion and I nestled into our window booth, two hunky surfers began stripping out of their wetsuits only a few feet away on the sands outside. About 10 waves later the expansive ocean view and burnished sunset came back into focus.

Additional order was restored with a smooth glass of Shiraz from Australia’s Footbolt region and a buoyant-tasting Pinot Grigio from Friuli, Italy. Fresh sourdough bread and highly attentive service were telling clues that our visit was about to get even better.

The kitchen is run by a delicious duo of accomplished food masters — Executive Chef Bernard R. Guillas from Brittany and Chef de Cuisine Ron Nachman Oliver from Southern California. Both men, borrowing from their native roots, bring clarity to dishes that border on the traditional and exotic.

My companion chose the four-course tasting menu ($48), beginning with a stacked-up presentation of Chanterelle-Crusted Barramundi and Foie Gras drizzled with icewine vinaigrette. The former ingredient is a firm, wild-striped bass from Australia that is wonderfully rich and novel. His second course was equally majestic – Goat Cheese Brulée dotted with preserved figs and crowned with spicy greens.

But the real showstopper was my Skillet-Roasted Forest Mushroom Basket, an appetizer that Guillas admits he can’t nudge off the menu because of its popularity. This crispy shoestring-potato nest supports an elaborate mixture of aromatic mushrooms and baby artichokes that are finished off with Vya Vermouth. Fungi never tasted this good.

After a lively production of Caesar Salad made tableside, we sailed into the main event — Maple Chili Smoked New York Angus for the companion and Parsley-Leek Alaskan Halibut for me. Had there been any more surfers strutting their stuff outside, we wouldn’t have noticed.

The steak’s smoky flavor fused beautifully with the subtle wine and maple sauce — not to mention the melting puck of pecan-Stilton butter on top. A bundle of fresh yellow wax beans and a peach Beignet added oomph to the presentation.

My fish was flavored with a unique and expensive ingredient that Guillas obtains from Australia, called lemon myrtle oil. Distilled from myrtle trees, the chef mixes only a few drops of the lemony-tasting sap into two cups of grape-seed oil that seems a perfect fit for seafood. The flavor is tangy sans the acidic flavor you get from lemons.

Genuine citrus, however, came into play with the companion’s dessert — Organic Lemon Gratin that would have tasted like plain ole’ lemon pie filling had it not been wetted with peach-lavender consommé. Much better was my Espresso-Vanilla Bean Cobblestone Pie, which is what Mississippi mud pie would dream of becoming if only it had a fairy godmother.

Among the other innovative dishes here are Fennel Pollen Baja Prawns, Tamarind-Peach Glazed Veal Tenderloin, Pan-Seared Chicken Breast with Foie Gras Sauce and Strawberry-Rhubarb Torte.

Friendly staff shields the Marine Room from appearing overly stiff, although the caviar crowd remains unmistakable. We especially loved the Greek maitre d’, Dimitrios Papadopoulos, who warmly attends to everyone while sharing interesting anecdotes about the restaurant’s history, the food and, of course, those unruly tides.