Jasper

Jasper could be a poster BYOB for the DIY era.

Owner Nick DiFonzo did all the renovations himself, spending a year and a half converting a Victorian home in downtown Downingtown into a 45-seat restaurant. He trained the servers, mostly high school and college students, to his own specs. He personally sources all his ingredients on regular trips to the Regional Produce Market in South Philadelphia. And he is the only chef in the kitchen.

I always appreciate such a personal touch. But considering the mod red bathroom is this restaurant's most interesting space, it's clear Nick DiFonzo is no interior designer.

What was he thinking when he installed fluorescent lights in the dining room windows? They're tucked up behind a fussy window treatment, but not nearly enough. So instead of basking in the warm romance of a converted Chester County home, which these two parlorlike rooms could so easily be, my guests were washed in a ghoulish white glow better suited to an accountant's office.

The upscale New American menu looked tempting. But my friends wore a polite but uncertain look as to whether it had been such a great idea to drive all the way to Downingtown for dinner.

I was thinking the same thing when the cheerful waitress approached us with a husky hello: "So . . . are youz guyz repeat offenders?"

Experienced servers are hard enough to find in the city, but they're an endangered species this deep into exurbia. And DiFonzo is doing his best to train them up into $27-entree shape.

I was thrilled to discover, though, that DiFonzo's solo act is already up to speed in the kitchen.

It was clear from the first sip of the complimentary amuse-bouche, a silky potato-leek soup that was served hot from an espresso cup.

The meals that followed were just as eye-opening. Deceptively light tubes of gnocchi came in a delightfully bisquey tomato broth infused with olive oil. Crab cakes filled with sweet meat and bound with a delicate seafood mousse took on a confident Asian flair beside a glass noodle salad blushing sweet and spicy with caramelized sriracha.

Crepes came elegantly rolled around a mushroom puree so rich, it had the intensity of a good rich soup. And the perfume of mini-kobe Rossini burgers splashed with demi-glace was so heady, the entire table inhaled their truffled aroma when those foie gras-topped sliders landed before me.

I had another moment of hesitation when I saw appetizers featuring peaches and watermelon, which were as out of place on an April menu as fluorescent bulbs in a Victorian room. But DiFonzo's scouting missions to the produce terminal have taught him to remain open to the unexpected. And if there are crates of luscious summer fruit from Chile: "I'll buy it," he says.

It was a wise move, because DiFonzo's crispy sweetbreads were perfect against the savory sweetness of those brandied peaches. A delicately fried puck of soft goat cheese was also given exotic new life when posed atop a pedestal of sweet watermelon. Ringed by saffron aioli and pistachios, it was a combination worth bending the seasons for.

Speaking of salads, Jasper is one of the last fine dining spots that still gives a complimentary house salad with every meal (it's an even better bargain Wednesday and Thursday, when there's a six-course prix fixe for $35.) But DiFonzo, a Restaurant School grad and veteran of Tacquet, Passerelle, and the Rose Tree Inn, doesn't just serve the perfunctory spring mix blahs. I found shaved root beets, black radish, slivered fennel and oven-dried strawberry chips in mine, not to mention a lovely Champagne-pear vinaigrette.

Considering DiFonzo's solo act in the kitchen, the cooking was reasonably consistent - though some dishes were a little flat. The slow-poached pear in pastry was a little too crunchy. A couple of entrees intended for conservative eaters were so safe that they were boring, like the bland salmon escabeche or the bacon-wrapped filet mignon.

One promising entree, the striped bass over risotto Milanese, suffered from rice that was simultaneously mushy and crunchy. The duck breast entree, meanwhile, was undercooked, but the dish was saved by a wonderful ragout of tender rabbit and a moist parmesan bread pudding that could have been the meal in itself.

For the most part, though, DiFonzo's cooking hit the mark. Succulent slices of lamb sirloin came with a crackly fennel crust that was a perfect contrast to the silky flan ribboned with earthy porcini mushrooms. An aromatic crust of coriander and coffee brought out the best of an Angus sirloin steak (though the bleu cheese mashed potatoes were dry.) A clove- and cinnamon-brined pork chop was spectacular next to gnocchi tossed in herby chimichurri and scattered with bourbon-soaked cherries.

DiFonzo brought an occasional Asian fusion touch to a largely Euro-influenced menu, but he carried it off, especially with the big scallops in a mango-pickled ginger essence that had just the right balance of exotic fruit and tingly spice.

DiFonzo also did a decent job with desserts, which went a half-step beyond most chef-baked pastries, including cinnamon-spiced crepes wrapped around rich mocha creme, a martini of strawberries and ladyfingers tossed in chantilly cream, a tiramisu bombe, and a buttery puff pastry tart topped with apples and golden raisins. There are also the tried-and-true creme brulee and chocolate lava cake, which were as predictable as the salmon and filet mignon.

A little more kitchen help, of course, might allow for some more interesting desserts. It might also unlock Jasper's potential to grow and improve upon its fine start (and even change the lightbulbs!). DiFonzo has advertised in the local daily for experienced help, but after a month, no qualified candidates have turned up: "Everybody thinks he's a chef," he says, sighing.

And so it's back to DIY for this promising BYO.