Don’t let the ho-hum, earth-tone, low-slung buildings fool you. Nor the location right off the traffic-clogged Sand Hill Road exit off of Interstate 280.

The new Rosewood Sand Hill resort might not look that impressive from the outside. But just step inside.

Its Madera restaurant will catch you off guard with its unexpected sophistication. You’ll practically forget where you are when you step inside the California-elegant dining room with its soaring A-frame wood ceiling, roaring stone fireplace, copper-trimmed open kitchen, and floor-to-ceiling windows that open out onto a terrace with a view of the rolling hills. At sunset, there’s no better seat than one outside. You feel as if you are ensconced at a breathtaking Napa resort.

Rosewood, also the owner of such premier properties as the Mansion on Turtle Creek in Dallas, and the Inn of the Anasazi in Santa Fe, knows how to do warm, comfortable luxuriousness well. And if the recent Saturday night I was invited to dine was any indication, folks on the Peninsula are basking in it, as the restaurant was packed.

The wine service is exceptional. No surprise since the wine program is overseen by Paul Mekis, a veteran of the Plumed Horse in Saratoga, and Aqua in San Francisco. He offers a number of wines by the glass that aren’t usually available that way, including an ’06 Nickel & Nickel Merlot ($25). Varietals are served in the newest line of Riedel stemware, which have unusually thick stems attached to the bowls, giving them a rather bold and modern sensibility, and making them very comfortable to grasp.

Executive Chef Peter Rudolph, formerly of Campton Place in San Francisco and the Ritz-Carlton Half Moon Bay, showcases a menu focused on local, seasonal, and sustainable. In fact, the evening my husband and I were invited in, East Palo Alto farmer David Winsberg of Happy Quail Farms had just given a talk to the kitchen staff about his famed peppers, including Japanese shishitos, that he is supplying to Madera.

As we were seated, the hostess deftly positioned a metal hook on the edge of the table to drape my purse, so that it didn’t have to sit on the floor. Soft, airy house-made focaccia was set down on the table, along with a cube of butter with a well in the center of it that held a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.

As we perused the a la carte dinner offerings, a creamy-crunchy amuse bouche arrived of crab salad, radish, and turnip puree.

I started with the glorious white corn soup ($11). A bowl was set down in front of me with rounds of salmon mousse inside. Then, the creamy, sweet soup was poured over it, with the concentrated taste of just-cut-off-the-cob imbued in it.

My husband’s veal sweetbreads with lobster mushrooms and white corn ($13) were exceptional, especially because they arrived at the table very hot and crisp, which is not always the case with fried foods at many restaurants.

My King salmon ($31) was cooked perfectly medium-rare, with the chermoula on top adding a zesty brightness. The server explained that the chef likes to add sausage to fish dishes, so accompanying my salmon fillet also was a juicy salmon sausage. Summer squash and squash blossoms lay on top of a mole-like sauce on the plate. Everything was cooked technically well, but perhaps there was just a bit too much going on the plate. Indeed, once you tasted the assertive mole-like sauce, which was a good-size puddle and not a mere squiggle on the plate, your taste buds grew numb to the wonderful nuances of the fine piece of wild salmon.

My husband had a similar issue with his oak-grilled rib eye that was piled high with mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, shishito peppers and chunks of blue cheese ($34). The steak was juicy, tender, and with a big, beefy taste. But at times, it got lost underneath everything else.

Other diners apparently also have made mention of the dishes being too complicated, and the kitchen is in the process of adjusting. Less would definitely add up to more here. Leaving one or two things off the plate would really make the food shine even brighter.

From the list of $10 desserts, we chose the olive oil cake with lemon verbena, creme fraiche sherbet, and Moscato peaches. The stone fruit was cooked-sous vide with the fortified wine, giving them a brilliant pink hue. The method also allowed the peaches to keep their shape better and remain slightly crisp, while still tender.

The mignardise will make you giggle — chocolate almond bark alongside a small bowl of sweet, crunchy, kid-like caramel corn. When’s the last time you saw that at a white-tablecloth restaurant?

Madera takes itself seriously in all the right places, and knows precisely when to add a bit of whimsy to banish any air of stuffiness. As we munched on the last of the kernels of caramel corn, and night descended upon the serene hills, it was hard to think about leaving such a pampering spot that wondrously makes you feel as if you’re somewhere you’re not.