We ate food, not too much, mostly plants: an evening at Chez Panisse

And it was absolutely incredible. Having been been around nearly four decades, some consider Chez Panisse an aging war horse, certainly no longer cutting-edge. But for all that, it continues to show up on almost everyone's list as one of the best restaurants in the world. And having never before eaten at a restaurant with a reputation of this magnitude, we were understandably excited and apprehensive.

We rented a car (a reasonably spiffy black Mazda) upon arriving at the Oakland Airport on Monday afternoon and followed our Mapquest directions to Berkeley with only some minor missteps. Once in Berkeley, we found our way to 1517 Shattuck, even though we still had nearly two hours before our reservations for dinner. Having located the restaurant, we did the required tour of Telegraph Road and the Berkeley campus, stopping with appropriate reverence on the now-named Mario Savios steps in front of Sproul Hall, where the Free Speech movement began (just before students occupied Sproul Hall in one of the most legendary protests of the Sixties).

We then made our way back to Chez Panisse, found a parking place directly across the street (when we inquired about parking via phone earlier in the day, they apologized for having none, saying they were just a humble little restaurant).

Along with a steady but small stream of pilgrims, we walked down the sidewalk and through the unassuming front door. Unable to get reservations for the main restaurant, we ascended the stairs to the Cafe upstairs, where a kindly maitre'd showed us to our table for two, tucked in a quiet corner. The room was unpretentious, furnished in a Mission style (or Arts and Crafts as the lady dining solo at the next table noted). The ambiance was genuine - it reminded Mother of the little restaurant where she and the LeDuc's stopped for lunch on their way to Carcasonne.

The waiter was competent, helpful, never condescending, and attentive without hovering. We perused the menu word by word, line by line, offering by offering. Rarely has a decision been so perplexing. But with some advice from our waiter, who graciously never disclosed his name, we placed our orders.

For starters, Mother ordered the duck and kumquats with grapefruit vinaigrette. I ordered the chilled mussel and potato salad with a saffron sauce. The food was fresh, the flavors were light and delicate and perfectly balanced. Simple but exquisite.

For a main course, Mother order slices of roast sirloin, potato au gratin and wild rocket. I ordered the fresh fava bean falafels over snap peas with a mild pepper sauce, a suggestion of the waiter. Again, we could not have been more pleased - delicate flavors, simple but exquisite.

We had not planned on dessert, but how often does one get to Chez Panisse? We ordered the vanilla bean cream puffs with bitter chocolate sauce and the fresh rhubarb crisp with vanilla bean ice cream. We savored every morsel.

So how would we rate the experience? Quite simply the best meal we have ever eaten. And simple is the operative word here. No ostentation, no oversized egos, no cutting-edge cuisine designed to further the career of a celebrity chef. Just simple, fresh food, delicately prepared, full-flavored, served in the kind of atmosphere we all would like to create in our own dining room (if our dining room were in a small French inn).

So what's on the menu tomorrow?