It seemed to me as if I had been looking for ACQUERELLO for a long time.

In a decade, San Francisco has gone from an easy-going seaport with a few delusions of "grander-than-u" to a howling, crowded, inflated, traffic-clogged dot.com mecca -- and in the last eight months, retrograded to a stock market-shocked series of giant bankruptcy sales, empty office locations, bewildered merchants, and casually but expensively dressed desperate job-seekers.

The one constant of the period has been the number of haggard homeless people (greatly increased in number) sleeping in every other doorway along the major shopping streets. No longer do many toffey-nosed San Franciscans whisper snidely among themselves, "Well, they all live in Millbrae, and chisel on Market Street." Or "Most of them are just drunks." Or "When is [Mayor] Willie Brown going to sweep these nut cases from our streets, and ship them to Napa, where they belong?" There are just too many hopeless faces, too many ragged figures under grimy quilts in the dark.

As a person of modest means, one sympathetic to the plight of the poor, it mortifies me to wade through sleeping tramps to spend a hundred dollars a plate at some celebrity or businessman's destination, for an exotic meal of minuscule size. Places where most of the ingredients are flown in from Lapland or Brunei, and the desserts are designed with care to make you forget the meal, and the size of your bill.

And what is one to think of critics who give a place five stars because they managed to drop an extra hundred on a meal which they complain was not as good as ones they had in New York? or guys who give up the stars on the basis of the flower arrangements? or gals who lavish kudos when the waiter bows to them?

I pondered this fact the other night at Ian Schrager's newly renovated *Clift Hotel downtown, near Union Square. I strode past CIA-stereotypical "doormen" (trying to push hordes of panhandlers away from the front door) to survey the re-modeled lobby, which looked as if it were indeed furnished from a very expensive garage sale. I checked through the Schrager-black-shirted security into the Totalitarian Modern renovation of the once elegant Redwood Room. After watching stylish blonde guests in backless black dresses, seated in chairs designed for midgets, crouching over to eat 20 dollar hamburgers off low zinc-bar tables; after trying to get by laughing, rude, crew-cut louts -- broad and tall as pro fullbacks -- around the glass bar, I decided not to stay for a drink, and went across to the Grand Cafe instead. (There, the barman was complaining to a cocktail waitress that he had taken in only a hundred dollars in tips by 9 p.m.)

I asked myself, where in recent months had I dined in an expensive restaurant, which would justify the money spent, that would be worth a positive Epinion? Of course, considering the hardships street people suffer more and more, there is no such place, but I cannot expect visitors in San Francisco to volunteer at Glide Memorial. And yet too many . . . suckers -- I always hesitate to use that word -- are urged on by Food Critics to a wallet-breaking experience by paeans for dishes like blanched Scandinavian Butterfly on foie gras, with Green Tea and Lime Sauce (particularly if the combination is unique and dreadful).

It was tough to think of a superb expensive restaurant in San Francisco, this touted City of Culinary delights. The mid-level places offer much better value. Expense accounts and credit cards tend to destroy quality here.

FLEUR DE LYS was a possibility, but a schedule conflict had forced me to cancel a planned check-up on that venerable repository of French cuisine. Old favorites were long gone. No, aside from TOMMY TOY'S, which my daughter Miranda took me to this Spring, I could think of only one place I had tried recently which I might recommend: ACQUERELLO.

As often is the case with me, by accident, I came there on a Saturday evening in late spring because I could not be seated in another place down Van Ness. I walked further North, up Russian Hill, to Sacramento Street, where I looked to my left and made out ACQUERELLO's sedate sign. I knew that the place had the same kind of cachet as the fabled San Francisco classic Italian restaurants, most of which, like VANESSI'S, BARDELLI'S, and ERNIE'S, have been done in by raised rents and modern hype. Even if, as I feared, ACQUERELLO offered the Italian version of Nouvelle Cuisine, I would take a chance.

My first impression was that ACQUERELLO was no ERNIE'S. After a few steps up, I was in the foyer of what might have been a mansion. The ceilings were high, but not accentuated by the equivalence of klieg lights and black silk like the New Redwood Room, nor yet, the red velvet and silks of the departed ERNIE'S. The walls were a pale oyster, set off by warm lights. From the arch in front of me, a distinguished-looking portly man in a jacket and tie came toward me, faintly smiling. He took my bag and my hat and then led me into the dining room, which gave from its decor gave the impression of being oval, but was not.

The man was the host/maitre d' Giancarlo Paterlini, who I noticed had a most arresting, kind voice as he escorted me to a banquette at the far end of the recently refurbished and expanded room. From my spot, I was surprised that at about eight in the evening, there were only 20 or so diners under the dark ridge beam ceiling, about half the restaurant's capacity. At that moment, I put it down to the Recession, but after my meal, I wondered, can wealthy San Franciscans and well-fixed visitors be ignoring such a superior place?

What do you think?

Any doubts about the quality of the ACQUERELLO were allayed by the swift appearance of a couple of waiters: one who laid out plates and silverware, and a second who gave me a decorated plate of the most aromatic selection of warm fresh breads. Signore Paterlini proffered me a menu, explaining that it changed often according to the desires and provender of founding chef Suzette Gresham. He suggested The Chef's Tasting Menu, which changes nightly, and introduced me to my waiter, who turned out to be from Liguria (where I once lived for a time).

Within a few minutes, I had been made welcome, and felt at home.

Ordinarily, I avoid "chef's tasting menus," but glancing at the logic of Ms. Gresham's offerings, adding up roughly the wine in their company, and for the $95 total, I once more took a chance.

First, I was brought the "Chef's Surprise for the Evening," a beautiful Scallop Stew in a ramekin, with a glass of slightly off dry Italian sparkling wine (Prosecco di Valdobbladene, Ruggeri Brut NV). The scallops were delicately satisfying, the creme sauce touched with something pernod-like, and the bubbling wine superb, drier, and far superior to the Asti Spumanti sometimes offered as "Champagne," even in good Italian places.

Next came a Napoleon of Seasoned Heirloom Tomatoes drizzled with Shallots and Balsamic Vinegar. I was rather cautious about approaching the glass Mulder Thurgau di Faedo, Pojer & Sandri, 1997, delivered by the ever-attentive steward, but the wine neutralized the vinegar slightly, bringing out the flavor of the tomatoes and shallots. (Who says, you can't have wine with your salad?)

Signore Paterlini made his way to the various diners, chatting with them, and when he came to me, as he did several times during the evening, we talked about Italy.

The Zucchini Risotto with crisply fried flowers of the vegetable was one of the best I have ever had. No corners had been cut. I knew the sauteed onions and rice had been simmered down with butter and white wine, the zucchini wedded at the right moment, the stock added repeatedly and simmered judiciously until fully absorbed; then a generous portion dolloped into a pasta dish and sprinkled with Parmesan and other dry grated cheeses. To the exquisite subtlety of the risotto, the most difficult of all common Italian cuisine to prepare, came a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio, Vittorio Puliatti, 1997. I began to levitate. It was the high point of the meal, as it should have been.

On we went to a perfectly Grilled New York Cut Steak (of major proportions and quality), marinated under Herbs and Garlic, and served with a smoky Eggplant Composta and "Sausalito Springs" Watercress. With this course -- as American, Eastern and San Franciscan as ever pleased a visitor -- came a large glass of dark red and shimmering Ronco del Ciliegi, Ronchi di Castelluccio, 1995. Ah! Let us not talk of Medocs or Napas.

To clear my palate and complete my satisfaction, Signore Paterlini personally brought me a Melon Cocktail, macerated in Basil Syrup, with contrasting melon, sorbets and granitas. To complete this health-perfect sweet, I was served a still Moscato d'Asti, La Spinetta, Giuseppe Rivetti 2000, a dessert wine of wonderful grace.

Homemade Biscotti and espresso were offered to finish off the meal.

This superb repast, perfectly served in a quiet elegant room, cost a total of about $110, plus tip. Unlike a number of meals I have had in San Francisco over the last few years, I could not have asked more for the money.

ACQUERELLO's regular menu is divided into three parts, and changes from time to time. The night I was there, the menu was as follows:

First Course (Starter) Selections: Tuna Carpaccio decorated with the flavors of the Italian Riviera ($13); Parmesan Budino, with Warm Asparagus and Pea Sprouts ($14); Salad of Wild Arugala, Mizuna, and Frisee, with Crisp Shaved Apples, Spring Radishes and Parmesan in Apple Cider-Shallot Vinaigrette ($9); delicate Breast of Quail filled with Sauteed Spinach rolled in Pancetta ($14); Braised Leeks, Taleggio Cheese and Roasted Red Peppers in a warm Tart ($13); or for a zuppa, Pappa al Pomodoro -- chilled tomato-bread soup scented with Basil ($10 ).

Second Course (Pasta) Selections: Ridged Pasta with Foie Gras, scented with Black Truffles ($16); Four Potato Gnocchi in colors of Spring, nestled in Onion Puree ($15); delicate Green Onion Fettuccine, with Dungeness Crab, Green Garlic and White Wine ($17); Cararoli Rissoto of Spring Green Herbs and Vegetables ($16); or Pennette Rigate in a spicy Calabrese Pork Ragu' ($15).

Third Course (Main) Selections: Grilled Filet of Dorade, with "insaltina fritta" Potato Puree ($29); Celery Imprinted Filet of Halibut with Green Lentils and Smoky Pork Hock ($27); Seared Salmon, topped with whirled Salad of Shaved Fennel, Baby Carrots, Slivered Red Onions and Gaeta Olives enhanced by a Citrus-Tarragon Sauce ($28); Tender Lamb Chops, topped by Creamy Risotto, Portobello Jus and Black Truffle Sauce with Broccoli Rabe ($31); Breast of Guinea Hen, nested atop Sauteed Portobello Mushrooms with Rice-filled Lettuce Rolls, in its own Madeira-flavored juices; ($29); Seared Rib-eye Steak over Pizzaiola Sauce with an Insaltina of Fried Match Stick Potatoes and Watercress ($28); or Rolled Veal, filled with Prosciutto, Parmesan Cheese and Chives, wrapped in Phyllo Dough and accented with Arugula ($29).

The wine list is strong in classic Italian red Barolas, etc., and the dessert card offers fruits in season, with sorbets and gelatos.

[Past menus have offered appetizers such as Sliced Roast Beef stuffed with Pickled Vegetables in a Lemon-Truffle Sauce; for main courses: Quail stuffed with Apples and Thyme, on Zuchinni-and-Potato Pancakes, or Tuna in a Fennel and Dill Crust with Saffron Sauce and a confit of lemons.]

Simple stomach-comforting dishes, for the most part, but made with local fresh ingredients, prepared and served with conscientious skill in pleasant surroundings. That is the definition of a Great Restaurant, whatever the price.

As I left, Signore Paterlini said in his slightly accented voice, "I hope you have enjoyed our Nuova Cucina."

I told him that I had, and that I would be back for more. I intend to make it the scene of a special dinner later this month. I look forward to returning to ACQUERELLO, a restaurant which has much more going for it than simple snob appeal.

I suggest that you try it, too, during the San Francisco Indian Summer, when you are up for something special.

----------------

UPDATE -- October 14, 2003: *Last month, Ian Schrager's San Francisco Clift Hotel entered bankruptcy. The hotel and its bar and restaurant are still functioning, but I am pleased to report from a recent visit that, though still crowded with pushing/shoving people having more money than taste, the atmosphere has become considerably less totalitarian.

Recommended: Yes

Kid Friendliness: No
Vegetarian Friendly: No
Notes, Tips or Menu Recommendations Although on my visit I did not have a reservation, I would suggest that you make one. The dining room looks as if it has a capacity of about 50.
Best Suited For: Romantic Evening