What was once the snottiest French restaurant I ever witnessed has turned into a wonderfully slick neighborhood supper club called Modus. For those who recall the former Liaison, with its icy wait staff and heavy stone walls that trapped in heat from a blazing fireplace, this radically new replacement prompts you to loiter rather than flee – and into the wee hours of the night if you choose.

The new leaseholders are Scotty Johnson, former sommelier of Region, and his wife, Ariana, who reigns over a full cocktail bar neatly sectioned off from the main dining room. Unlike so many other restaurants that entangle their bars with their mess halls, Modus not only keeps the two physically separated but uses soundproofing materials in its scheme to contain the music playing within its sleek and airy lounge. The dining area is more dimly lit from ethereal floating globe lights. A little squinting is needed to read the menu, although it’s a cozy and comfy space replete with fresh carpeting and doublewide, upholstered chairs to accommodate extra girth.

The other co-owner is chef Nathan Coulon, who descends from a bloodline of restaurateurs that operated the Belgian Lion in Ocean Beach. There he gained enough solid kitchen experience to fold the hardcore French-Belgian cooking approach into a more worldly style labeled these days as “new European cuisine.”

Sticking tightly to regional purveyors like Chino Farms and La Milpa Farm, Coulon’s offerings are subject to change a couple of times a week. In the week that my companion and I visited, red and golden beets were popping with freshness, as evidenced in a salad that paired them inside a cleverly sliced ring of avocado – a pretty dish with complimentary flavors and textures embellished with a spark of citrus vinaigrette.

In the not-so-American tradition is Beef Carpaccio served with a soft cooked egg. Only in Europe have I had carpaccio served with this bonus cholesterol. Here, the egg along with a small bouquet of mildly dressed arugula gave rise to the thin slices of prime beef that we found flavorless on their own. Another starter, Wild Mexican White Shrimp, proved exciting because it broke the scampi paradigm we expected. The shrimp are poached rather than flash sautéed in garlic butter, thus the flavor runs deeper and the tongue enjoys a more lasting, buttery richness.

“Stellar” was the word my companion expressed as we poked through the mantle of Emmenthaler cheese capping our French Onion Soup, which coincidentally ranked among my favorite menu items when the address housed Liaison. Coulon’s version is even better. It’s served in an urn-shaped bowl and delivers a savory, herbal undertone from bay leaf and thyme. The onions were super sweet and the toasted cheese was strong and nutty tasting.

Too sweet for my palate, however, was the soup du jour, a smooth, silky chowder of Chino Farms corn that tasted as though it was spiked with sugar. But I stood corrected when Coulon told us it isn’t. Corn these days simply tastes sweeter, I suppose, and it hits the stratosphere when concentrated into a soup recipe such as this.

For our entrées we chose classic European dishes that Coulon brings to our doorstep with great finesse. He uses a thick and tender 10-ounce New York steak for Steak Frites. It’s served with fries made from fresh organic potatoes that are cooked in peanut oil – a trick that nearly mimics the marrowy flavor of french fries when they used to get submerged in bubbling-hot animal lard. An overall basic but delicious meal.

Sinfully good was Confit of Duck. Expect nothing less than a hypnotic rush of comfy flavor from the leg section cloaked in crackly skin, plus a decent-sized puck of foie gras on the side. We’re talking fat at its best that’s pointed up with a red wine reduction that puts the flavor of vino in the forefront. So rousing and perfectly cooked was the fowl that the thin, fried potato disk sharing occupancy on the plate became a footnote.

Where the food menu contains other meaty fare that offers little solace to vegetarians, the drink list picks up with a mosaic of global wines by the glass or bottle, plus international beers and crafty gourmet cocktails whimsically named Bitter Bitch, Foreplay and Shoulda Woulda Coulda.

The beauty of Modus (Latin for method) is that you can eat, drink and lounge merrily under one roof without feeling as though you’re trespassing on one or the other domains. The kitchen stays open late. And the staff is young and friendly, and caters well to the diverse demographic indicative of this location, which from its Bankers Hill setting has toes in downtown and Mission Hills while extending a stylish arm to the urban neighborhoods beyond.

No doubt, Modus’ welcome mat is a heck of a lot fuzzier and colorful than what came before it.