Two telltale signs that a restaurant’s food will be fabulous are the absence of salt and pepper shakers on the tables and the fast delivery of addicting homemade breads accompanied by some sort of creative dippers or spreads. If you can add to the equation a wine list that aggressively chases after pinots and bordeauxs, then you’ve gathered enough positive clues to become the culinary seer in your posse.

All said indicators are evident at Stingaree, the new downtown hot spot that stood as a produce warehouse before soaking up more than $6 million to become a strikingly superb restaurant in the front and a wildly posh nightclub in the back. Its name hails from the historic area in which it stands. Throughout the late 1800s, the Stingaree District defined several infamous blocks south of Broadway, where opium dens, brothels and gambling parlors served Coq au Vin to sailors and locals. That dish, it just so happens, is a very real and exceptional treat at today’s Stingaree.

The restaurant’s five-section menu is the brainchild of executive chef Antonio Friscia, a maestro of European cooking who formerly orchestrated much of the Tuscan fare at Alfiere in the Sheraton San Diego Hotel & Marina. Here, the dishes we tried from each category were rich and well seasoned, and bursting with fresh components. And the house-made breads (olive, seeded and foccacia) that arrive early in the meal poke and prod at your willpower until every last piece is dredged through the accompanying sun-dried tomato paste.

Grilled asparagus with torpedo onions, red peppers and plump almonds from the Picolo page ranks as the best grilled veggie medley I’ve had to date. Everything on the plate was evenly tangy and seeped a judicious fire-roasted flavor. Royal Shellfish Bisque, Hama Hama Oysters and salads also appear on the starter list.

My companion and I upped the ante when perusing the Mezzo choices, which feature 10 different items that are portioned bigger than appetizers and a smidgen tinier than entrées. In what should be a final lesson to restaurants clinging to those gourmet lobster mac-and-cheese concoctions, which give shellfish no justice, the chef’s Serious Mac-N-Cheese Fonduta is a victorious iconoclast laced with melty Gruyere and Appenzeller cheeses, plus bits of chewy bacon for accent. Like Swiss fondue, the recipe is finished off with cherry brandy and makes for a highly decadent middle course.

Also downright sinful – especially when sharing table space with the above – was the duo of foie gras featuring a grade-A goose liver, which was drizzled with white truffle oil, and a puck of torchon (rolled foie gras braised normally in meat or vegetable stock and then chilled). Chef Friscia’s spin involves soaking the torchon in milk and honey for a silkier end result.

Of the Coq au Vin, my advice is to eat it when at Stingaree since you won’t find the dish served at too many other places in town. This classic French stew of chicken gets a major dousing of red wine – at least 21 bottles plus cognac, says the chef – and uses Onagadori chicken, a smaller bird with denser meat. Gingered carrots and roasted fingerling potatoes sitting alongside the crock ended up getting plunked into the dark robust juice along with the fuzzy garnish of fried leeks. I left only the bones behind.

My companion’s main course, Garlicky Niman Lamb Sirloin sliced into medallions, was sweet and delicious rather than pungent, thanks to the aged balsamic demi sauce that complimented the soft, roasted cloves of garlic. The combined chemistry is carefully crafted so as to not upstage the fresh, pastoral essence of the lamb.

The fourth chapter of Stingaree’s menu, called Verdura, features various side dishes at $7 apiece, such as Boursin mashed potatoes, Chino Farms sautéed spinach and sautéed brussels sprouts with bacon and chili flakes. We opted for the truffle parm fries, which could have disappeared in a snap had we showed more restraint in other areas.

Yet somehow the chocolate lava cake from the Dolci page slid down easily, due to the fact that our stomachs had a 15-minute rest in the cooking time it takes for the dessert to achieve that hot, liquidy center.

Afterward, we requested a tour of the two-level club, which was dark on the night we visited but equally marvelous in design as the restaurant, with dreamy high-tech lighting and lots of nook seating options. From there, we were led to the stunning 7,000-square-foot rooftop patio, which is open during club hours and also on Sundays for an all-day happy hour.

Despite its bawdy connotation, this Stingaree rolls out a savory, promising welcome. Got a food scoop? E-mail it to editor@uptownpub.com.