Mosey through the stately wooden threshold off the spotless, chandeliered lobby of the US Grant Hotel and into the Grant Grill’s cocktail lounge and you’ll see a gold plaque inside that reads: “No women allowed before 3:00 p.m.” It’s the original sign that kept male chauvinism alive on the property until 1969, when six women challenged the policy with a staged invasion, clamping down their heels during a defiant lunch of mock turtle soup that changed forever the assumed privacy of this former men’s-only lunch spot.

The plaque is one of the grill’s last remaining vestiges of a bygone era, which, until 1981, served food from pushcarts while presidents, famous music composers and wealthy entrepreneurs waltzed throughout the hotel’s marble-floored chambers and feasted on caviar and sweetbreads.

The 96-year-old hotel and its Grant Grill, which wasn’t born until 1951, has endured a shower of costly renovations over time, including the most recent $52 million facelift orchestrated by its new owner, Wyndham International. Compared to the last time I visited the grill several years ago, the redesigned space is barely recognizable, though it still has a masculine look, showing off a Waldorf Astoria-like style of richly molded mahogany paneling, dark wood flooring and stately light fixtures set against crisp white walls and upholstery. The names of the activist women who brought gender reassignment to the restaurant are credited on a separate plaque just below the one that kept them out every afternoon.

My companion and I settled in to a center dining section flanked by two rooms that offer booth seating and significantly dimmer lighting. We arrived only three weeks into the grill’s reopening and yet the operation didn’t have a hair out of place. Executive Chef Andreas Nieto appoints the tables with elegant glass plates made in Greece and gold inlaid tableware crafted in Europe. A sommelier had just come on board to expand and fine-tune the wine list. And fresh sage bread baked on site in round copper pots marks a warm preclude to dinner.

In what was the tastiest, most tender lobster that’s passed my lips in the past year was consumed in one of our starter courses – a succulent lobster cake bolstered by lemon grass, ginger, sweet onions, sambal hot sauce and tangerine reduction. My companion’s Melville Viognier, served a tad too chilled, struck beautiful harmony to the dish after the wine’s temperature rose and released its bloomy components.

Whether you’re new to foie gras or in protest of it, Nieto’s presentation appears sporadically as an appetizer special when he can get it free-range, which means it’s raised under humane standards. We had it served over black trumpet mushrooms and a profound white truffle risotto. A few chunks of baked apple appeared on the sidelines, setting a perfect stage for this rich and dreamy goose liver. Another appetizer, a sprightly crab salad stuffed into bright-red paquilla peppers, was also outstanding, as were the meaty Manzanilla olives served alongside.

Standing in neat array on a long rectangular plate was my companion’s prime beef filet accompanied by fire-roasted local tomatoes, jumbo white asparagus and a small copper pot brimming with Yukon mashed potatoes that seemed straight from the best holiday dinners I’ve eaten. The chef uses cream and high-quality Plugra butter in the mash, not to mention a 50-year aged balsamic for the steak reduction. From end to end, the entrée was supreme.

My main course, Arctic Char (similar to salmon in color and texture), would have been perfect if 50 percent less salt was used on the side sporting crispy skin. The filet was enhanced with a deglaze of fish stock, butter and a little starch from the water used for boiling the accompanying gnocchi, which tasted wonderfully fresh and light. The plate also featured tender baby artichokes and snappy dried pepper-crusted tomatoes.

Perhaps the char would have tasted less brackish if smoked sea salt was used in the equation instead. The chef uses it on local Pacific halibut and in a Bouillabaisse composed of the same fish, plus clams and Baja shrimp. Many of the menu items take on such interesting notes from ingredients the supper folk of yesteryear might have found eccentric: toasted coriander seed oil in white corn soup, purple beans with Colorado lamb rack and farm-raised quail eggs with grilled asparagus. Nieto’s cooking is stylish and innovative and catapults longtime denizens of the grill safely into the 21st century.

Desserts are as equally snazzy. My favorite was a stacked creation of raspberry cream, raspberry mousse and mascarpone cheese separated by thin crispy disks of pastry – a luscious shrine to what has always been my favorite berry. We also tried the Sweet Banana Corny Dogs, which sounded too novel to pass up. The bananas are skewered, encased in fried dough and sprinkled with sugar. Chocolate ice cream and fresh mango puree on the side provided an extra sweet spark to the dish.

With an illustrious history checkered by social politics, the Grant Grill is a splendid culinary landmark that San Diegans can proudly call their own.