The cavorting monkeys painted on the walls of Monkey Bar have seen a lot, from the bar’s opening in 1936 through its 1990s reincarnation as a restaurant, and a series of chefs since then.

The last time I went to Monkey Bar, it was a good steakhouse. Now it’s been modestly reconceived with a Chinese motif, while nimbly hanging on to a lot of the tradition that makes it special. Gone, though, are the charming wrought-iron monkey railings that surrounded the sunken center of the dining room; and gone is much of the pleasant Art Deco roundedness that designer David Rockwell gave it. Red chinoiserie scrims have been added, and chopsticks now lie alongside the forks at every table’s setting. The new chef is Patricia Yeo, who opened Sapa in Chelsea in 2004. She brings her playful pan-Asian sensibility to Monkey Bar, insofar as the constraints of the place’s traditions allow. Every chef who works in this kitchen has to make steaks — and baked Alaskas, too. Ms. Yeo grills a decent, if under-trimmed, thick rib steak ($37), seasoned with a fermented black bean sauce that gives the meat a curious but not unpleasant musky note. There are vegetables on the plate — a sure sign we’re not in a steakhouse any more — tempura-fried sticks of broccoli, asparagus, and sweet potato. The batter, appealingly light, is too thin to shield the greens from a bit of desiccation.

Starters are newly delicate, such as a chopped salad ($11) of romaine and avocado with hunks of blue cheese and winning little coins of deep-fried Chinese sausage. The menu promised tea-smoked chicken in the salad too, but there was no sign of it in mine. No Midtown menu is complete without scallops. Here there’s a generous trio of them ($17), to which the chef gives a crisp, sweet surface sear before laying them on individual beds of truffled, diced beets, butterscotch-tinged root vegetable purée, and tomato chutney perked up with distinctively pungent nigella seeds, respectively.

Ordering unusual flavor pairings, like Ms. Yeo’s salad of cuttlefish and banana ($13), is always a gamble: It could be an inspired combination or a puzzling disappointment. Here it is closer to the latter. The chewy chunks of grilled cephalopod and the sweet rounds of banana, accented with tasty, sticky nut clusters seemingly misplaced from the dessert menu, get along like mismatched roommates, not clashing, but not really doing anything for each other either. Much better is the restaurant’s take on moo shu duck ($16), a bowl of wonderfully savory and juicy shredded duck with piquant plum sauce and a few plain crepes to roll it in.

In one of the best main courses, a subtle, savory broth filled with strands of cooked egg, thin asparagus slices, and hunks of crabmeat, makes an appealing foundation for roasted bass ($28), simple and nicely crisped. As the dish is eaten, wayward shards of fish cut from the filets fall into the broth, to be spooned up later. A piece of pale, strong-flavored sturgeon ($33), thickly crusted and sautéed, is well complemented by rich, vernal puréed edamame, but the accompanying pair of pea-shoot-filled dumplings are tough and underseasoned. My neighborhood Chinese takeout does better dumplings; and scallion pancakes better than the old-tasting ones that accompany Monkey Bar’s salt-and-pepper chicken ($26), a juicy, crisp-skinned breast and leg with good, salty flavor.

The restaurant has toned down its wine list, losing the meaty emphasis on big, pricey red wines, and introduced a smattering of sakes. My previous Monkey Bar baked Alaska was a superb persimmon confection; this one’s nothing special, filled with thematic banana ice cream ($9). A balsamic-vinegar reduction is a misguided attempt to punch up a sundae ($9): The dark, sour syrup overwhelms a couple of innocent scoops of ice cream, turning them into a dish as incongruously savory as the banana-cuttlefish dish is sweet. There’s an engaging fun factor, at least, in a plate of assemble-your-own tartlets ($9), five empty tart shells with a choice of fillings: dulce de leche, lemon curd, and chocolate mousse, as well as berries and chocolate shavings to sprinkle on top.

The breath of fresh air that the new look and taste bring to the old restaurant is minor: a new wrinkle for a good institution, but not quite enough to make people who who wouldn’t have done so before seek it out now.

Monkey Bar (60 E. 54th St., in the Hotel Elysée, between Park and Madison avenues, 212-838-2600).