The Guild is a way-hot restaurant strangely removed from where we’re accustomed to venturing for contemporary dining experiences. Located only a few blocks off the Cesar Chavez exit in Barrio Logan, and a stone’s throw from the East Village, it pierces through these dormant surroundings with the kind of architectural gleam that you’d expect from a hip, new haunt in the Gaslamp District. Part of the restaurant’s beauty is that it doesn’t operate there.

Thanks to efficient target marketing that included a two-day preview party last month, San Diego’s cool-cat urbanites have taken root within a unique interior design that shows off a metal workshop in the back and a stylish bar and dining room in the front.

Designer Paul Basile, who runs the restaurant with his wife, Linda Karp, owns the workshop, which you can easily peer into through large window panels. He’ll eventually stock the space with craftspeople in the evening hours to give diners sporadic displays of masked welders generating brilliant blue and orange sparks. Such was the case during the opening party I attended – a live art show of sorts that cleverly played up to Basile’s sleek atmosphere fabricated cleverly in glass, steel and concrete. The restaurant’s oddball, one-armed chairs, designed by Basile, would be worthy of top honors if entered into a show of fine woodworking.

The menu is comprised of small plates by chef Melissa Mayer, who doubles as an artist outside of the kitchen. Many of her culinary creations are packed into circular molds and adorned with whipped, flavored foams made popular in the ’90s by chef Ferran Adrià of Spain’s El Bulli restaurant. San Diegans saw a late arrival of these foams, so there still remains a smidgen of novelty about them.

Airy basil foam was the crowning element on a tightly packed mold of pesto-infused mozzarella, snips of fresh basil and nicely chilled tomatoes, though too few of them. Listed on the menu as “Caprese – A Study,” it was enjoyably brisk on the tongue while imparting pleasing bursts of sodium when our molars clamped down on the occasional flecks of Hawaiian black sea salt used judiciously in the dish.

Equally refreshing was the Unexpected Greek Salad, another molded item topped this time with tzatziki foam over baby arugula, diced cucumbers, Kalamata olives and fresh mint. “It’s the kind of salad that makes you want to eat salad,” my companion commented. And we both agreed that a basket of pita bread and hot summer weather would have paired up perfectly.

Some of Mayer’s foams are weightier than others and resemble the consistency of Dream Whip, as seen in the feisty wasabi foam presented on an excellent tuna sashimi enhanced with chile-sesame oil, avocado and red sea salt. When asked for the key ingredient that made this foam creamier, Mayer defended her secret humorously and replied, “Metal.”

Soups come and go from the menu. On this rather cool night, Mayer concocted Smoked Shrimp Bisque thickened with roux to the point that it struck the consistency of Bernaise sauce, we felt. But a fine alchemy of flavors persisted – slightly smoky and charmingly sweet with a touch of earthiness from basil oil and toasted pepitas.

The chef’s Kobe Sliders are blue-ribbon treats because the mini patties are thicker than most that I’ve had around town, which means more of the meat’s prized, savory juices ooze into the bread. You get two to an order, each topped with Humboldt Fog goat cheese and served with a side of arugula aioli and a generous serving of crisp, skinny French-fries that turn lively when dipped in the stimulating house ketchup spiked with lemon juice and chipotle.

Another beefy dish is the Organic Flat Iron + Frites, which features a puck of super-tender steak pointed up with sea salt, herbs and horseradish “fraiche” – a near-foam with a slightly sour taste and less air beaten into it.

The most expensive items on the menu (sans the market-priced “chef’s selection” and fish of the day) are Lobster Crab Cake served with chipotle sauce and garlic mash and the New Haven BLT, each priced at $13. In sampling the latter, I reaffirmed my belief that lobster meat should be augmented by nothing more than drawn butter or citrus. Though the lobster on the sandwich was substantial and not overcooked, it was predictably upstaged by wasabi mayo and smoky bacon, which danced a better dance as their own duo.

Other menu items include Stuffed Roasted Pasilla, Sesame Seared Yellowfin with Spicy Chile Sauce (which we salivated over at the opening party), Grilled Mahi Mahi Fish Tacos and a Chocolate Sandwich for dessert.

As in most restaurants serving small plates exclusively, there’s a stay-awhile feel with fewer customer turnovers. That non-rushed, loungy atmosphere is particularly evident at The Guild when you consider that wines by the glass exceed in choice wines by the bottle, and that the staff is laid-back and neighborly, as though you’ve entered a really cool house inhabited by really cool friends.

Whether you’re coming for the libations, which also include crafty cocktails made with soju (the Jade Kiss with cucumber and lime is oh-so green and memorable) or hankering for small bites constructed with creative ambition, you need only travel a few exits south beyond the clamorous downtown dining scene.