Chez Panisse Berkeley 052126
Chez Panisse is one of the historic restaurants in the Bay Area, where the farm-to-table movement first took root. Alice Waters imagined it as a gathering place for friends and introduced a new style of cuisine and culinary philosophy inspired by her experiences in France to the United States.
Recently, both the restaurant and its owner, Alice Waters, were featured again in the Netflix documentary Chef’s Table: Legends, alongside Thomas Keller of The French Laundry. While their culinary philosophies align closely, they differ in their approaches to managing their businesses.
I would say that the spirit of Chez Panisse and the farm-to-table movement is “networking.” Neighboring farms and restaurants work together synergistically, leading to more creative cuisine, richer flavors, and better overall dining experiences. Their first menu featured a simple garden salad as a symbol of the farm-to-table philosophy, and later, their café served humble Californian-style pizzas topped with fresh local vegetables.
Chez Panisse chose to remain humble and accessible, welcoming locals with warmth and care, while also being ambitious in its mission to transform America’s eating culture into something healthier, where people value fresh, local ingredients and know where their food comes from.
They operate two types of dining experiences in their main building. The first floor is dedicated to regular dining with ever-changing prix fixe menus, which is where we decided to dine. The second floor, Chez Panisse Café, which can be reached via the staircase in the photo, offers an à la carte menu.
A beautiful and luxurious flower arrangement welcomed us, accompanied by misty, hazy lighting that almost confused our visual senses. It felt like entering an imaginary world completely separated from the hectic movement of the outside world.
They displayed a selection of breads and fresh vegetables at the front of the kitchen, highlighting their culinary philosophy. Bottles of wine ordered by customers were also being chilled alongside them. It was a comforting moment where I could begin to piece together how this place operates and better understand the overall experience they aim to create.
Right at the entrance to the dining room, they displayed a basket of enormous asparagus, showcasing their deep dedication to ingredients. They were the largest asparagus I had ever seen in the United States. The beautiful, natural patterns on their skin helped awaken our culinary curiosity and set the tone for the meal ahead.
The space looked beautiful. It was not luxurious, but it had a unique charm of its own. Brown-toned wood warmly embraced the guests, while oriental-style lamps were placed throughout the room. We sat beside a balcony area where four tables were arranged. The diners there looked as if they were eating within a wall of trees and leaves, surrounded by nature.
The default table setting was humble, rustic, and charming. Look at the glass with its thick stem and small bowl. It felt like something you could easily find in a friend’s home. A bread plate and butter knife were already set on the table when we sat down. I especially loved the thick, off-white plates.
They had a great wine selection that remained reasonably priced, while still offering a few rare and luxurious options at the end of the list. We decided to try La Grange Tiphaine Montlouis “Clef de Sol” from the Loire Valley.
My companion, Seunghun, one of my foodie friends from South Korea, pointed out that Clef de Sol appears on the wine lists of many prestigious restaurants around the world, and that it has become almost impossible to get hold of a bottle these days. We felt that this was not an opportunity we would always have, so we went for it without hesitation.
Since nectarine season had just begun, they celebrated it with artwork featured on the menu. Every week, they post their week-long menu plans on their website, and on Mondays they offer a simpler three-course tasting menu. We dined on a Thursday and were excited to enjoy the four-course menu. In reality, they served us even more than that, since the number only referred to the main dishes.
They began the meal by serving us a glass of flavored Prosecco infused with thyme and blood orange pulp. The crispness of the Prosecco was complemented by the sweetness and juicy texture of the blood orange, along with the herbal aroma of the thyme, transforming it into something even more enjoyable. It was a perfect start to the meal and offered a subtle preview of what they would present throughout the rest of the course.
A plate of small bites was served, though it was not described on the menu. A crispy piece of toast supported a mixture of mint, ricotta, and olive oil, while a small sprig of mint was placed alongside the canapé-like bites. This dish effectively conveyed their culinary philosophy and set the tone for the first two main courses in particular.
Bread and butter were then served. The perfectly baked baguette, with a subtle hint of sourness, was easily split into two portions for my companion and me. The crust was exceptionally crisp, while the inside remained moist and tender, making it incredibly satisfying to eat.
The size of the bread felt slightly out of proportion to the amount of butter provided, which itself tasted wonderfully fresh and creamy. The sauces from the upcoming dishes were also not quite enough for proper scarpetta. The bread was undeniably delicious, though I found myself wondering why such a large portion was served.
In truth, Seunghun absolutely loved the bread, and having extra bites of something that good is never really a problem. I was not complaining at all. I was simply curious.
We ordered a bottle of white wine from La Grange Tiphaine in the Loire Valley. As expected, it was made from Chenin Blanc, a varietal that I personally love. I usually associate Loire Valley Chenin Blanc with bright tropical and stone fruit notes and an easy-drinking character.
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This wine, however, stood apart from more typical Loire wines because of its remarkably oily texture. Its minerality was outstanding, and the depth and weight it carried were phenomenal and completely unexpected. The viscosity even reminded me of cocktails I had during my recent visit to the bar at Saison with Ricky.
Rather than being simply light and crisp, the wine showed an intense golden-orange hue and carried a restrained yet sophisticated character that paired beautifully with the entire course that evening.
The asparagus they proudly displayed at the entrance eventually arrived at our table. They looked stunning beneath their crisp, golden batter coating. The asparagus spears were large enough to retain all of their juice, and the deep frying only intensified their sweetness and texture. The chervil mousseline added rich buttery notes along with a delicate herbal aroma.
The accompanying vegetables offered a wonderful range of natural aromas and flavors, each ingredient expressing its own unique freshness. Thin red radishes added crunch with subtle bitterness and sweetness, while shaved fennel contributed refreshing pungency. They even included a piece from near the fennel root, shaped almost like a heart, which carried a different texture and flavor profile that reminded me of sliced green onions. Frisée and arugula formed the foundation of the salad, bringing grassy and herbaceous notes throughout the dish.
I especially appreciated the chervil flowers. They shared nearly the same flavor and texture as the leaves, but added a much more elegant visual touch. The dish beautifully demonstrated how delightful and expressive vegetables can be, while avoiding heavy dressings that might overpower the ingredients’ natural aromas and flavors. Instead, the mousseline and batter were seasoned with precision, so that every bite containing all the components felt perfectly balanced.
What I particularly admired was that they did not treat “natural flavor” as an excuse to leave everything untouched. The ingredients were thoughtfully and skillfully cooked in ways that elevated their qualities even further. For me, this was the best dish of the night.
King salmon is one of California’s most beloved ingredients, though the state had suspended salmon fishing for the past three years. The regulation was recently lifted, and the staff at the restaurant seemed genuinely excited about the news, deciding to feature wild king salmon for most of that week.
They prepared the wild king salmon fillet by steaming it, creating a deliberate contrast to the previous deep-fried asparagus dish. The salmon was exceptionally tender, rich with fat, and especially satisfying alongside its silky skin. Unlike the asparagus course, this dish offered only a gentle, soft crunch from the glazed cucumber. The textures were completely opposite, yet both dishes shared similar herbal and vegetable-driven qualities through their accompanying components, showing how the restaurant celebrates produce through different approaches.
The basil butter added grassy, aromatic notes to the glazed cucumber, while the cucumber’s subtle minerality surprisingly complemented the richness of the salmon. Personally, I would not say the pairing of cucumber and salmon reached the unforgettable level of the kiwi-and-oyster dish I once had at Saison, but it still worked beautifully and felt thoughtfully composed.
The vegetables were transformed much further in this dish. Still, the king salmon itself was properly seasoned to bring out its savory qualities, while the accompanying vegetables continued to highlight their natural flavors.
The cutlery was changed, hinting that the main course would soon arrive. Between every course, they replaced the utensils and carefully cleaned the table. It was such a thoughtful gesture.
A true feast arrived at our table. The exceptionally fatty pork loin from Becker Lane Farm, a small organic farm in Iowa, had been slowly spit-roasted using the restaurant’s custom-built open spit. Their devotion to thoughtfully sourced ingredients clearly extends far beyond California.
The dish came with a wide variety of garnishes, allowing us to enjoy the pork in many different combinations. For a rich dish like this, a sweet component felt essential. They transformed apricot into a mostarda with mustard, creating tangy, spicy, and sweet flavors that paired beautifully with the fatty pork loin, while its soft texture complemented the meat perfectly. The potatoes were cooked to an ideal crispness, and their flavor worked especially well with the smokiness of the pork, since potatoes often become even more satisfying when touched by smoke.
One of barbecue’s classic companions, collard greens, was tucked beneath the euphoric pile of food, reflecting the restaurant’s appreciation for American culinary traditions as well. The turnips were carefully cooked and carried deep, savory root-vegetable flavors. Mizuna from Japan topped off the dish with refreshing pungency and a slightly spiky texture that added another layer of contrast. I especially appreciated their openness to incorporating refined influences and ingredients from around the world.
The meat skewers rotated slowly above the fire, cooking the pork gently through indirect heat from below. One of the chefs explained that the restaurant had used this instrument for decades. It is manually rotated through a system of gears and chains and appears to have been specially designed for the space. The spit includes two skewers positioned at different heights, allowing the cooks to control the intensity of the heat.
Their cooking method worked beautifully with the intensely fatty pork loin. The meat became incredibly tender, almost like sous vide pork, while still carrying a far deeper smoky aroma from rosemary and the dripping fat hitting the fire below.
Dessert was then served. It looked humble, yet beautiful. The savarin had an airy, bouncy texture, while the rum added a deep layer of flavor. The experience became even more vibrant with the passion fruit coulis and the crisp layer beneath the cake. The combination of tartness, crisp texture, and rum created an almost heavenly burst of flavor in my mouth. At the same time, the light and springy savarin kept everything balanced.
The kumquat had been candied to soften its intense sourness, while fresh strawberries added another layer of texture and flavor. The final component, vanilla cream, gently calmed the lively interplay of the other ingredients with its soft vanilla aroma. Its creamy texture and subtle sweetness perfectly complemented the bright acidity throughout the dish. I only wished there had been a little more of the cream.
A simplified, traditional petit four plate arrived to conclude the meal. Cocoa-dusted almonds and mulberry pâte de fruit coated in coarse sugar provided a perfect finale to the entire course. The sweets offered contrasting textures and flavors at once, and paired beautifully with the hot mint and lemongrass tea served alongside them at the end.
I went to the restroom and took a moment to look at the kitchen from the back of the restaurant. The heat from the kitchen was slowly fading, and the chefs had begun casually chatting with one another. Even after an intense dinner service, they all looked genuinely happy.
Chez Panisse includes a mandatory 17% service charge for the benefit of the entire staff, and we were completely happy to support it. From the documentary, it seemed that Alice Waters had spent a long time reflecting deeply on how to run her restaurant. Even now, the restaurant appears to be continuously evolving in its own way. I hope they continue finding the best path forward, making both their guests and staff happier than ever.
Once we returned home, we went for another round of late-night snacks to celebrate the lingering memories of the meal and spend more time catching up with each other. Seunghun, who came from Texas, brought a collection of treats and pick-me-ups for me, including beef jerky, Buc-ee’s caramel popcorn, Buc-ee’s pecan pralines, and a bottle of bourbon called STAGG, which has become a worldwide sensation.
STAGG had an alcohol content of around 65%, which is remarkably high, yet its fruity and caramel-like flavors masked the strength surprisingly well. Even so, it still delivered a powerful but very pleasant warmth to my throat.
Actually, I had wanted to try their cocktails, but the dining room did not serve them. Instead, they offer a separate bar experience at Bar Panisse, located right next to Chez Panisse, which I am eager to visit soon. I am curious to see how they translate their culinary philosophy into cocktails and what those drinks look and taste like.
The bar was packed with people and smelled wonderful, likely because they also serve food there. I would love to stop by and experience another expression of the finesse that has helped shape Berkeley’s food scene.
