The first phrase I heard on returning from a trip last month was: 'Say it isn't so!' A phrase originally wailed to a corrupt baseball player in 1919. This time it was not about sports but the intended transformation of Bela Vista Hotel and Restaurant into the Portuguese consul's residence when Macau reverts to China in 1999. The Bela Vista does inspire strong emotions in the bosom. But, while the sentiment is reasonable, the Bela Vista has had so many incarnations in its 127-year lifespan that one more change is hardly all that surprising. It opened as a private home in 1870, became a hostel for lonely mariners, evolved into a dormitory for Portuguese officers, was almost traded to the French to gain a foothold on China (protests from the British Parliament of 1901 changed that), and then became a convalescents' home, a hotel again (W H Auden wrote a lovely poem when staying there), a school, a brothel, a refugee sanctuary in the 1930s, a rest-and-recreation club for the British Navy, Army and Air Force Institutes, an inn for poverty-stricken travellers (I stayed there on my first visit to Macau, paying $50 a night), and finally, (whew!), under the Mandarin Oriental Group and others, today's hotel. But nothing is final with Bela Vista, and it will indeed disappear as a public institution within the next 18 months or so. For the moment the hotel simply doesn't work too well on weekdays. As the number of visitors to Macau declines at an alarming rate, the Bela Vista veranda on a Monday lunchtime has as much action as Arabia's Empty Quarter. Two or three tourists take pictures of themselves, a few waiters, a feature writer and a massive menu. The same isn't true on weekends, of course. The veranda is packed, reservations a week ahead are a necessity, and even the rooms are filled. But the Mandarin Oriental Group prospers less on dreams than bottom-line reality. The Bela Vista simply cannot function as is. The main economic problem is compounded by the loss of a once-stirring view from the colonnaded veranda. The view today is of cranes and bulldozers, a swampy lake that was once a harbour, a stretch of green and concrete that is supposed to be a new road in the water - altogether, not very appealing. Nor are the frequent changes to the menu since the Mandarin took over half a dozen years ago. Nobody quite got the formula right. It was partly Portuguese, partly European, a few original recipes, a few errors of judgment. Like the hotel itself, it was always in flux. The final change (perhaps) occurred a few months ago, when manager Paul-Andre Guidat brought in an old colleague from Phuket Yacht Club, Australian chef Chris Hyams. These two, with maitre d'hotel Alain Gomis, went for broke with a totally new menu. Classification, though, is not easy. 'What we have now,' says Mr Guidat, 'is Portuguese food. But daring Portuguese food. Originality, creativity, combinations which have never been done before.' The menu is mainly original, but old favourites - what had been considered cliched dishes before, such as grilled sardines, African chicken and codfish balls - have remained. But variations are numerous, especially for sardines, served with a sauce of roast bell pepper. And the claim that this is Portuguese is belied by irrefutably French dishes. Goose-liver terrine, rack of lamb and chocolate mousse are hardly Iberian. But two of us decided to be relatively adventurous, starting with what I thought would be awful. These were the escargots, pan-fried with a maize porridge. The latter could have been a polenta, the world's most boring food. But the corn was also fried, and the sauce had a piquant touch, covering about a dozen snails out of their shells. They were soft, not chewy, and the three elements had a delicious contrast. The shrimp-and-scallop salad on mango salsa sounded good, but we had a chicken breast salad. This was a huge portion, certainly to be shared. The sesame oil was very lightly spiced, the breast a bit tough, the lettuces were a bit wilted . . . not the best salad in the world. Bela Vista also has a caldo verde, the ubiquitous Portuguese vegetable soup. But the gazpacho, on this relatively summery day, was called for. It was thick with tomatoes, as well as a hearty helping of grilled scallops. The scallion oil added that oniony taste. Besides the daily specials, Bela Vista probably has too many entrees for its few customers. We were tempted by the two veggie dishes, one of them passed off as 'Mongolian grilled vegetables'. Never having seen anything grow in Mongolia except sheep and camels, this seemed enticing. But no, it just meant the fresh vegetables were grilled, along with a pasta. My companion, a lover of Portuguese veal, had to order that. The veal was as tender as possible, and came surrounded with a ring of prosciutto ham. This itself came on a bed of roesti potatoes, with garlic. It was a tasty dish. I chose the tuna steak - rare - and it seemed far more Gallic than Iberian. The tuna came coated with a crust of fresh coriander (which, in an unusual dining experience, actually tasted like coriander). It came with a lobster sauce both sweet and chillied. The combination was unforgettable. At least in its last days Bela Vista is trying hard to overcome the double-edged sword of a) being a tourist showcase and b) its reputation for being a place you enjoy a pre-prandial drink and a codfish ball before taking off to other restaurants. In these dying days of the Portuguese Empire, the management and staff are at last lending an imperial veneer to the food. BELA VISTA RESTAURANT, Bela Vista Hotel, 4 Rua do Commendador (above Rua da Praia Grande), Tel: 965-333; Open: 7-10.30am, noon-3pm, 7-10pm