Restaurants have always had a reputation for a high risk of failure. That’s because restaurateurs, with their combination of ego and chutzpah, open their doors with expectations of overnight success. The crowds often materialize out of curiosity, but whether they return is another story.

A younger generation is taking another path; they’re willing to take things slow and build an audience before committing to bricks and mortar. There are plenty of food trucks that serve as experimental kitchens for future restaurants. Ahead of them are a fair number of success stories, including The Pig & the Lady.

Chef-owner Andrew Le emerged from Chef Mavro’s kitchen with the aim of developing his own style and signature, rooted in his Vietnamese heritage. With the help of his indefatigable family, he started by hosting pop-up dinners for foodies within Hank’s Haute Dogs’ space on its dark nights during the summer of 2011, establishing a noodle bar routine at Taste Table and catering to the hungry browsing various farmers markets. 

The groundwork is reflected by the diverse crowd that now packs The Pig & the Lady’s new digs in Chinatown’s Pacific Gateway Center. I have never been in a restaurant with the kind of following you never see in one place, from Brooklyn-styled hipsters to huge local families.

The setting is retro chic, and the restaurant makes the most of the space’s red brick walls and the found and donated materials that go into its carved wood tables, light fixtures and chicken-wire lamp shades. It manages to be cozy, homey and stylish at the same time.

A creative Le — who last month was nominated (along with Vintage Cave’s Chris Kajioka) in the Rising Star Chef of the Year category in the prestigious James Beard Awards — is not content with serving the same old at morning, noon and night, so you’re guaranteed to find something different on the menu at different times of the day. The downside is, if you find something you really love on the lunch menu, like bo la lot (the traditional betel leaf-and-beef combo), redone in burger form ($12), you won’t find it if you return for dinner.

Newbies should start with lunch, where you’ll find the dishes that put Le on the map, such as heavenly P&L pho ($13) topped with smoked bacon, melt-in-your-mouth 12-hour roast brisket and soft egg, and the Le Saigon banh mi ($11), which outdoes every other Vietnamese sandwich out there with its juicy and flavorful combination of pork belly, ham, chicken liver pate, pickled vegetables and roast pork drippings. Le manages to coax every ounce of flavor from the restaurant’s namesake pork.

On Saturdays you’ll wake up to brunch that includes a crispy Thai omelette ($12.50) of eggs, mussels and bean sprouts built over a crisp mung bean crepe, and topped with a vegetable slaw, with a hint of heat from chili sambal. (There is also a vegetarian option.)

If you’re looking for a traditional breakfast combo of toast, eggs and meat, you’d better have an imagination and sense of humor. One-Eyed Willie toast ($14) is a round of coffee-can bread with a baked egg forming the "eye" at its core. It’s served with a delicious slab of roast pork, and if you’re sharing this plate, I imagine there’ll be some scrapping over who gets the lion’s share of the strip of cracklin’ on top.

But the real stars of Saturday’s menu are the Dutch Baby pancakes ($12.50), in sweet and savory versions well worth the 20-minute wait. If you’re accustomed to the sweetness of typical pancakes, by all means start with this combination of kaya, or coconut, jam, lychee, Thai basil, lilikoi and basil seed sauce. The savory version tastes more like a pizza, with its combination of Gruyere, leeks, fried curry leaves and brisket gravy.

In the evening, P&L pho returns. There’s also a tsukemen (dipping style, $13) option featuring the house 12-hour brisket, salt-cured egg yolk, fried shallots and roasted peanuts.

Before getting there, settle in with family-style share plates of smoked ham-hock croquettes ($7.50), a crunchy salad of Asian pear, Otsuji Farm lettuces and sprouting seeds ($9.50), Laotian fried chicken ($11) or coffee-can bread ($8.50), this time with a center of chicken liver mousse that was runny but tasty.

If you’re feeling your inner caveman, there’s stewed beef bone marrow ($10), with shanks big enough to wield like a club. It’s fun to watch people tackle this dish.

Pork makes its return, this time served with kim chee, date puree and smoked pork jus ($23). Even more impressive is charcoal-grilled chicken ($17.50), smoky and juicy throughout, served with "chicken fat" jasmine rice dotted with chicken cracklins.

I have yet to move on to the pastas, including chi?tara ($18) with braised chicken and more of the chicken cracklins, ikura, green apples and chicken jus. It takes a lot of experimentation to come up with such an incongruous combination. 

I find not all combinations work, and when they don’t, they veer into the realm of extraneous ingredients on the plate and bitterness, as with a brunch offering of char siu pork. The fattiness of the meat is balanced with sweet pomegranate seeds, but it’s laced with a bitter spattering of ground coffee beans. A dessert offering of Greek yogurt panna cotta for dinner is drizzled with olive oil that lends its fruity character to the dish, but it’s also topped with mounds of ground Oreo cookies. A little would add a pleasant crunch to the dessert, but the sweetness of the panna cotta emphasizes the bitterness of this much cookie crumbs.

Maybe there are fans of bitter foods who are being underserved in Honolulu. Others will be more satisfied sticking to the tried and true.

Nadine Kam’s restaurant reviews are conducted anonymously and paid for by the Star-Advertiser. Reach her at nkam@staradvertiser.com.