COME TOGETHER NOW: Sea scallops served with a potato-and-celery pancake and watercress salad is one of Chlöe's winning combinations. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

Chlöe opened in 2001, the great year of the BYOB in Philadelphia, when a new wave of chefs, frequently alumni of the city's finer restaurants, were bursting with fantastic ideas about elevating bistro cooking and showcasing local ingredients in the humblest of settings. Chlöe's menu was perhaps more novel back then, but I find it especially appealing that co-owners Dan Grimes and Mary Ann Ferrie have mostly stuck to the same offerings over the past five years. In a neighborhood that has seen dozens of flashier eateries open and close in that time, Chlöe has remained a consistent presence with a strong sense of self.

The little storefront dining room charms with its relaxed, almost random decor. Pale walls reflect the glow of paper-wrapped votives. The pressed flowers beneath the glass tabletops, the hanging kilim and shelves filled with tchotchkes are the kind of personal touches you might see in someone's home. It's comfortable, if a bit loud, because the 40-seat room is almost always packed to capacity. Listen closely, and you'll hear among the buzzing conversations the steady interjections of oohs and aahs.

The wait I dreaded is well rewarded in the end by personable, smart service and a dish of chipotle hummus — pink-tinged, smoky and just right for slathering on slices of rustic bread from Metropolitan Bakery.

Though the regular menu is enticing on its own, ingenious creations on the specials list beckon from the wall-mounted chalkboard. On recent visits there was a bowl of white polenta rich with creamy mascarpone, topped with an earthy swirl of sauteed local porcini mushrooms and a sprinkle of fresh thyme. A brilliant masterpiece of a salad starred lusciously tender duck confit, chunks of caramelized pineapple, bing cherries and a vinaigrette flavored with pomegranate molasses.

Then again, you don't want to miss out on the Chlöe classics: long pencils of asparagus tied up with salty ribbons of applewood-smoked bacon and a creamy smear of Boursin cheese in a pool of sweet balsamic reduction. Spicy Indonesian-style shrimp grilled and stacked on top of a corn cake, then doused in a smooth but fiery coconut chili sauce. A roasted beet salad embellished with crumbles of blue cheese, mandarin oranges and toasted pecans.

This restaurant's hallmark is wholesome and substantial food, served in hearty portions yet executed with the utmost delicacy. I couldn't get enough of the impeccably seared scallops, their salt-and-pepper crust yielding plump white meat. But they were only one component of a plate full of dueling flavors: the crisp, oily potato-and-celery pancake, the lacy watercress salad with bites of red onion, and the cool sour cream drizzle with a fiery spark of smoked chili.

Even the kitchen's simplest combinations seem like brand new ideas, like the pairing of salmon and eggplant. Here it's a grilled fillet and a glossy eggplant chutney on a pillow of crusty baked polenta. Homemade ravioli stuffed with honey, goat cheese and ricotta are little flour-and-water packages of joy, bathed in a brown butter sauce with sage, wild mushrooms and edamame.

Other dishes seamlessly blend international ingredients, like the tender Moroccan-inflected lamb grilled on skewers and served over fluffy mint couscous with cinnamon-roasted tomatoes and cucumber raita, or rosy seared tuna, bathed in a fragrant banana ginger broth, strewn with curling fried wonton chips. The sushi-grade fish is anchored by translucent green seaweed dotted with sesame and a mound of jasmine rice.

Only the grilled 6-ounce sirloin fillet was off. The meat was a bit tough, though its flavor was rich and complex and I loved the trimmings: a crisp confetti of potatoes and corn, garlicky seared spinach and tangy pineapple catsup underneath.

I was also disappointed by the house-made sorbets, which change regularly and are served in large scoops with biscotti. On one visit, both the prickly pear cactus and coconut flavors were marred by chunks of ice.

Otherwise, the desserts displayed the same timeless quality and honest approach as the preceding courses. The coffee of choice is from Phoenix, a sister company of La Colombe, and it pairs beautifully with the oven-warm banana bread pudding topped with whipped cream and caramel bourbon sauce. We loved the strawberry rhubarb cobbler, likely the last of the season, the tart fruit and tender crust soaking up homemade vanilla bean ice cream. I'd forgotten all about the amazingly light flourless chocolate gateau, handsomely presented with fresh strawberries, chocolate sauce and a white chocolate pirouette.

Chlöe, it turns out, is as good as it's always been. This excellent, dependable restaurant still merits high recommendations. It's also well worth the wait, which, even after five years, shows no signs of letting up.

Chlöe

232 Arch St., 215-629-2337, www.chloebyob.comHours: Wed.-Sat., 5-9:30 p.m.Appetizers, $6.50-$11; entrees, $16.50-$24Cash only. BYOB.