Whipped-cream clouds daubed with peach-bellini puffs and ice-blue swooshes lighted by the neon setting sun are the backdrop for one of Miami's most breathtaking new restaurants. The dramatic sky is just part of the eye candy for those who can swing the bill at Asia de Cuba, the latest Miami outpost of Jeffrey Chodorow's eating-as-entertainment empire.

The stunning setting, inside and out, at the Mondrian South Beach attracts more than its share of hotties who roam the vast fairy-tale space in heels as high as their skirts and cheekbones. The Through the Looking Glass interior by Marcel Wanders is a white-on-white fantasy with a winding ebony staircase, mammoth, chess-piece-like columns and exotic flowers that look like they could devour small animals. If you're feeling kinky, check out the wall-size vending machine, which dispenses 24-carat handcuffs ($350) as well as a convertible Bentley ($90,000).

And while the food is definitely not an afterthought, it is basically China Grill fare with added Cuban elements served in mammoth portions that get guests poking their forks in each other's plates. When scanning the pricey offerings, it's wise to heed the advice of the good-looking servers, who seem better acquainted with the menu than most of their ilk in Miami.

No doubt yours will suggest dishes to share, including the popular lobster shiitake pot stickers, plump pockets of sweet meat swimming in a pool of creamy vanilla- and rum-spiked sauce cut by a nice mix of peppery watercress and cherry tomatoes. Salads include a monstrous signature calamari plate with more leaves of chicory and radicchio, chunks of chayote, slender hearts of palm cylinders and bits of banana than squid ringlets. A better choice is the grilled, fist-size shrimp with a cilantro pesto.

Tunapica, described as picadillo-style, has little to do with the Cuban ground-beef hash. The paltry tower of four cold wonton chips layered with a scoop of finely diced raw tuna is dotted with currants, Spanish olives, shaved almonds, bits of coconut and lots of soy sauce.

Another oddly described dish is the ropa vieja of duck, really a pair of succulent confit duck legs doused in a heavy-as-motor-oil, sweet-as-candy hoisin glaze and lightened with crunchy napa cabbage and bits of cucumber.

Main courses quickly jump into crazy pricing, including a $54 piece of sustainable sea bass as big as an ankle-high Christian Louboutin boot. Served with a sloppy array of root vegetables and chayote cooked down into a sort of ratatouille, the dish is elevated by a creamy corn flan with buttery hunks of crab meat.

Another signature is the miso-cured Alaskan black cod, a riff on a traditional Japanese dish that has become almost a cliché in the restaurant world since Nobuyuki Matsuhisa introduced it in London a dozen years ago. Many dishes, including a highly touted side of Shanghai noodles that is more like retro lo mein, are so laden with slick black soy sauce that they are inedible.

Large, loud desserts harken back to the tall-food era of the '80s. A favorite is the double-decker vanilla cheesecake towering over discs of pineapple swimming in a passion fruit puree. Another vertical dessert, Cuban opera cake, has all the subtlety of a Little Debbie Swiss Cake Roll, but its intense espresso ice cream had us begging for more.

A 100-something bottle wine list arranged by heft has plenty of good pairings for the multitude of contrasting flavors and textures of the menu, but with markups of from 300 to 500 percent over retail, it is tough to get too cozy.

Cocktails are north of 15 bucks, but include some super fun and flirty combos like guava lemonade and a passion fruit caipirinha. Good thing, as you probably will be sent to the bar to wait no matter what time your reservation. Ogling South Beach hipsters at this temple to all things gorgeous should keep you entertained.