Michael Mina at The St. Regis Hotel, San Francisco

Fine dining should be done once a month. At least. That's the least amount of times you should be going out to a good restaurant where the food is prepared in exactitude of the way food should always be prepared, if we had the time, talent and wherewithal to keep foie gras around the house.

Last month, Robert and I visited The French Laundry in Napa and I was quietly amazed for the third time about just how good that place is. It's never as good as your first time, of course, because after that your palette has been elevated to a new level of epicurial cultivation and return trips can only meet that rather high level of expectation. This month he returned the favor and we went to Michael Mina's eponymous restaurant overlooking Union Square in San Francisco.

Michael Mina sits on the lower corner of the St. Regis Hotel, which spans an entire block along the western side of the square. Consequently one is treated to the sounds of the piano from the lobby bar, which wasn't awful but did remind me that I was in a hotel restaurant, which for me tends to diminish the overall experience even if you happen to be in one of the most expensive hotels in one of the most expensive cities on the planet.

Don't touch it! It buuuurrrnnns!

The hotel locale affords Mr. Mina with an expansive space in which to install his vision of the perfect dining experience, and he has carefully constructed a subdued, comfortable environment in soft earth tones that manages to fade away from your vision rather than compete with the dishes set before you. Each table had a small, round, metal tealight holder that my companion and I couldn't help but want to touch, even though fire was burning less than an inch from its surface. But we're stupid like that.

Mina's idea of food is to present the same main ingredient in sets of three or six, so that, for example, my scallop appetizer consisted of six scallops, three of which were prepared hot and three cold. Similarly, Robert's foie gras appetizer had it seared with three different spices in front of him, and presented as a mini tourine slice in three different fruit compotes behind those.

To accomplish this feat, Mina designed the rather impressively sized dishes that come with every serving. They're more like trays than plates, really, with small indents for the food to sit in. Plus, since you're getting so many different tastes, the server's main job is to explain what everything is and remind you of what it is you just ordered.

All that sounds a lot more complicated than the presentation. Inevitably, one comes away with a favorite from the group, and each portion is so small that sharing anything is nearly impossible.

And the food is really worth sharing. My scallops were done perfectly, tasting buttery and tender in each presentation, and my duck and foie gras (one must eat as much foie gras as one can before one can never eat it again) was simply amazing. Robert opted for a Kobe Beef entree (we're nothing if not cruelly carnivorous) and from the looks of things, he enjoyed his as much as I did mine.

Dessert was another offering of sixes, mine being chocolate and Robert's being bananas in various states of cooked and uncooked.

Service could not have been better, save for a slight whiff of snottiness from the sommelier, but I think he was simply disappointed that I had already decided on a Cote d'Rhone without his prompting.

Reservations can be had easily about a week in advance, but Michael Mina is not the place to simply drop in. Dress code is "business casual" (no jeans) and they have a full bar, but don't miss the wine list from some truly out of this world prices.

4 stars out of 5, minus one for playing Moby