If you haven’t been to the U.K. in the last 15 years, then you’ve probably missed out on some of the snazzy pub grub that’s being served in lieu of those gelatinous meat pies, bone-infested fish filets and gristly sausages. In a welcome trend, a growing number of pubs have turned “gastro” – meaning they’ve brightened up their menus with global cuisine from seasoned chefs while retaining the communal, neighborhood trappings of traditional pub culture.

Jayne’s Gastropub in Normal Heights ranks among only a handful of eateries sporting this concept in the U.S., along with such places as Ford’s Filling Station in Los Angeles, the Red Drum in Mount Pleasant, S.C., and the Spotted Pig in New York’s Greenwich Village.

How do American gastropubs differ from cafés or bistros, you might ask? The contrarieties are subtle and dictated foremost by the eateries’ structural quaintness, commitment to quality and value, and their ability to offer visitors a warm, casual welcome. Jayne’s Gastropub pulls it off on all levels.

Proprietor Jayne Battle is a native of Liverpool and has lived most of her life in the U.S., arriving to San Diego after working years in San Francisco’s restaurant scene. Having visited England’s gastropubs in her adult life, she felt the time and place were right for opening her own joint, located only a stone’s throw away from a village-like stretch of Adams Avenue.

The modest-sized space was meticulously designed in a circa-1940s revival by her fiancé, Daniel Manrique, who installed a stamped-tined ceiling, hexagon-tiled flooring, crown molding and marble-glass light boxes behind the bar. Sheer lace curtains in the front windows soften the pub’s simple black-and-white color scheme, which lends itself to noshing with good friends over a bottle of wine or goblets of Belgian Chimay beer on tap.

Jayne’s menu is smart and elegant and begins with several appetizers that include whole-leaf Caesar Salad drizzled in a lemon-garlic dressing that my companion and I rated “above average.” We also took heart in Tomato Carrot Soup, a lip-smacking combination that tasted like butternut squash soup with a subtle, tangy twist. Another starter, White Bean Crostini, featured grilled levain bread and several delightfully sweet South African piquante peppers on the side that were as red as strawberries and provided oomph to the somewhat under-seasoned bean purée when paired up.

My enthusiasm doubled when I spotted Wiener Schnitzel on the entrée list. The pounded-out pork filet, breaded and fried and served with a lemon wedge, stacked up to the many fine schnitzels I’ve consumed on trips to Germany – crispy on the outside and tender and teasingly thin inside. Fresh sautéed broccolini and homemade spaetzle that took on a designer touch of Gruyère were fitting accompaniments.

Among the offerings that Battle says are close to her heart is Parisian-style Steak Frites. She ups the quality by using a thick cut of Niman Ranch flat-iron steak topped with an earthy, herbal salsa verde the color and consistency of pesto. The flame-cooked meat was mostly tender and came medium as ordered. And the traditional long, skinny fries served alongside, we discovered, buddied up nicely with the kitchen’s garlic aoili when we requested a “dipper” for them.

We also added a fish entrée to our gastropub foray – a pan-seared filet of Alaskan Halibut seasoned with a modicum more salt than we preferred. The light and chunky filet sat atop a puddle of escabeche, a Latin-inspired, tomato-based sauce spiked usually with onions and chilies that helped thwart the saltiness.

What our gastrointestinal systems couldn’t possibly have handled after engaging in three substantial entrées is the Jayne’s Burger with Vermont cheddar and pickled red onions (yum!), Braised Beef Short Ribs in Port wine reduction, Herb Roasted Free Range Chicken with currant couscous, or the Sea Bass Fish and Chips.

But we managed to squeeze down Butterscotch Crème Brûlée, a tasty treat that we agreed rivals all other tongue-coating recipes that put nothing more than cream and egg yolks down your throat. The Lemon Tart, too, was a fine piece of work of modestly puckering custard contrasted by a dry almond crust.

Jayne’s is adorable and inviting the moment you set foot on its curb. And the owner makes it easy for San Diegans embarking on a local gastropub crawl, which begins and ends right here.