Being in Chez Panisse is like being in the Smithsonian Institute, it’s really nice to remember the pioneers of their field.  It makes you go, “Wow, this was how it was in the stone ages!” Having said that, it doesn’t mean we constantly have to travel down memory lane.  

 

I have no complaints about Chez Panisse. Everything is quite perfect, from the white fish amuse to the tart tartin dessert, if not a bit uninteresting.  The service was excellent and it’s the kind of food everyone can relate to.  Although to truly enjoy the experience, you have to constantly remind yourself that this was the first to do what it does.

 

The problem with getting to know Chez Panisse, at this stage, is that one has already sampled those who have improved on the Alice Waters’ philosophy, so one is left with a significant, but unexciting and over priced landmark.  

 

Then again, I am jaded. As the server brought out the plate of oranges with flying disc dates, I was suddenly hit with the remark that food critics made several years ago: ‘This is shopping, not cooking.’  

 

Having been to the green market that morning, I had beautiful oranges and flying disc farm dates waiting for me at my hotel room, and I didn’t have to pay a mint for them either.  I guess back in those days, I wouldn’t have been able to shop for myself. Now I could.