FACES OF CHANGE: Restaurant M's executive chef David Katz and co-owner Michael DiPaolo breathe new life into the 219-year-old Morris House. : Michael T. Regan

These men brought glorious prominence to Eighth by building their palatial dreams there — especially the latter team, whose Morris House, constructed in 1787, made colonial elegance shockingly austere without losing its garrulous kink.

In 1914, another Morris restored the manor's north and south sides, and added a gorgeous English-style garden as a lush centerpiece. Save a few minor renovations, the house hasn't been touched since — until now.

That real estate developers/restaurateurs Gene LeFevre and Michael DiPaolo were able to turn Morris into l'hotel prive with the newly appointed Restaurant M is one for the history books.

Think Luke Morris could have pan-roasted a red snapper to center-succulent perfection and then known to place it on a bed of noodle-thin summer squash and tangy black-olive tapenade? Or blended an icy cantaloupe sorbet, mint, blue crab and Serrano ham into as delightful a chilled salad appetizer as M executive chef David Katz (Lula, Salt) has?

Think its original gardeners would've had the cajones to shower one of the fountains with kitschy fiber-optic discs from Home Depot?

Think any member of the Morris clan would have jokingly commissioned paintings of themselves dressed as Napoleon like DiPaolo and LeFevre did? Or had the foresight to hire a sturdy maitre d' like Joe Conti, a lion of the Philly restaubar scene, to oversee the whole thing?

"[LeFevre and DiPaolo] are funny guys," says Conti, 52, a renowned former captain at Le Bec-Fin and Manhattan's Lutesse.

Funny not because they posed like Napoleon, but because owning (and maintaining) a green oasis amidst city smoke and gristle shows bravery and sensitivity to design aesthetics.

"Neither man had ever done anything like this," says Conti of the restored hotel's 11 colonial bedrooms, four modern rooms, original Pennsylvania ironwork and new eatery. "Gene and Michael own this prime piece of Philly. Many realtors would've used it for more commercial purposes — [to] add hotel rooms or parking."

Instead the duo forged a fine restaurant and elaborate spacious garden whose greenery has been left to breathe and flourish. From a seat inside the rectangular M, you can peer through the beveled glass of its opera doors and watch day turn to night as red and orange coleus, petunias, geraniums and climbing vines glisten with August humidity. Sparrows dance and fly. Hydrangea bushes, rock fountains, holly trees and sweet potato vines are ripe throughout the gardens. But not so much that you can't peek into the Morris and spy its dining areas and wide sitting room.

The plainspoken Katz, 29, jokes that terms like "casual sophistication" are overused.

"I just strive to keep it simple and technique-driven in taste and in design," he says of his New American cuisine. "There's not a lot of stuff on the plate or words on my menu."

That's evident in his truffle white polenta that's nestled below a breast of free-range chicken, and the fregola sarda with wild mushrooms beneath his formidable New York strip steak with a touch of bordelaise sauce. Or most deliciously, Katz's slightly seared patty of foie gras that sits alongside plump Washington state blackberries — so juicy they pop, then squirt.

Nothing inside or outside M is understated or overstated; neither too fussy and dainty nor too frank or blank. It's simply lit and romantic. It doesn't lack for formality, but it certainly isn't stuffy.

The gladiola and pansies that fill M's watercolor paintings seem to drift toward the torch-lined gardens. Before and after dinner, during your hotel stay, or any other time, you can sip cocktails and stroll the outdoors.

A decorous bar selection, fashioned by Conti, includes two featured reds and whites daily and an edgy collection of rosés.

"[I] always have as big and diverse a bar as possible," says Conti of the M's candy-storelike liquor cabinet. "I stock Pernod, absinthe and Granier pastis to drink with sparkling water, the way the French do. Not many bars have that wide a collection."

Not many bars are Restaurant M.

(a_amorosi@citypaper.net)