The Hillcrest restaurant long famous for its ornate signage and unswerving Chinese fare has adopted a split identity. Looming high above the entranceway remains the imposing neon sign for Jimmy Wong’s Golden Dragon. Yet on the canopy shading the property’s front patio the name reads The Asian Bistro.

Two calls to directory assistance confirmed what I had suspected before visiting: the restaurant is double listed under both titles. And the new ownership admits that the circa-1946 sign it inherited is protected as a historical landmark after generating 50,000 signatures of support to keep it in place.

In an effort to fully modernize the former Golden Dragon, the interior scheme is distinctly unrecognizable. Gone are the worn-down leather booths and tarnished wall mirrors that set the stage for pedestrian Chinese stir fry for the past 60 years. Now, a cohesive minimalist design accented with granite flooring, squash-colored paint and banquettes upholstered in floral brocade point to a reconfigured menu of Thai, Chinese and Japanese specialties served until the wee hours of the morning.

My opposing lunch and dinner experiences here attested to the restaurant’s challenging reincarnation process, while keeping in mind that it reopened only about four weeks ago. Starting with Hot & Sour soup on a midday visit, my companion and I agreed that the broth was bland – not enough sourness and only a wisp of heat that tasted as though it originated from black pepper. Conversely, the Tom Kah soup I tried a few days later unleashed a glowing burst of sweet and tart flavors indicative of Thai fine dining.

What’s known as Sarong shrimp is called Hedwig on the appetizer menu, a vertical presentation of six skewered shrimp spun in crispy egg noodles and protruding from a raw onion. My lunch companion didn’t mind as much the overuse of noodles entombing the crustaceans. Yet we both agreed that the accompanying sweet chili sauce tasted too candied. A quintet of veggie egg rolls called Yummy Sticks proved much better, albeit less adventurous, but a more manageable starter. For those, we requested peanut sauce on the side because the jelly-like sweet-and-sour sauce that came with them was too similar to the aforementioned sugary chili sauce.

Among the inexpensive lunch specials is pork in ginger sauce, which offered chewable bits of meat but with a weak finish on the palate. And from the regular menu, an item called His Secret is an original Golden Dragon recipe that gave us parts of a half bird, scored through the bones, that was so mildly flavored we wondered what the big secret is all about. The dish’s strongpoint is supple meat and crackly skin obtained from slow baking and then quick-fried for reheating. Yet from the start, it tasted basically like pre-cooked poultry.

The preface in the leather-bound dinner menu touts the illustrious culinary experience of executive chef Songsri Thammasuckdi, who began her career at top establishments in Thailand and has cooked for that country’s royalty. What I sampled on my subsequent visit supported that claim.

An order of Lettuce Wraps turned out to be anything but ordinary. I’m not sure if the kitchen ran out of lettuce leaves or if the cabbage “cups” used instead was deliberate. But we loved the variation, along with their filling of diced chicken that exploded with cilantro, mint, basil, lime and just the right amount of heat.

Also highly recommended are the Asian Hog Wings, which translate on the plate to four drumstick-size pork shanks that were fork-tender and kissed with a smoky coating of teriyaki and chili sauce. If you’ve never experienced the succulent flavor of whole pig cooked on a spit, this dish comes close to the real deal.

Always a sucker for Drunken Noodles, the bistro prepares them well and doesn’t shortchange you on the basil, chilies and whatever main ingredient you choose to have tossed in: beef, scallops, roasted duck, tofu, etc.

While the new menu takes a broader approach to Asian cuisine (though clearly leans more heavily toward Thai), there are a few unlikely dishes listed such as Jumping Jarvis, battered soft shell crabs with Cajun “potion” or Tangerine Chicken, a potential fit for contemporary California kitchens. And then there’s Caesar salad, which I wouldn’t want accompanying my Peking Duck.

Service is gracious and reasonably fast, although the servers offered more smiles than they could answers about certain dishes we inquired about, and sent over the friendly owner once to better explain the earnest recipe standards implemented by the chef.

For recent transplants to San Diego, or anyone with an eye for eateries new to the restaurant scene, The Asian Bistro awaits with open doors. And for those who wax sentimental over this long-established haunt, your Golden Dragon is once again calling with its neon glow – provided you don’t come knocking for chow mien and beef with broccoli.