Since attending college in the San Francisco Bay area in the early '80s, I can't recall a summer not having lunch at Chez Panisse. This summer was no different, except the company and occasion were both new. During college, it was always a treat to eat in the café; back then the pizza chef, Michele, was my roommate's best friend, so there was always a special pizza to start.

The past five summers, my two teenage daughters and I have ended our California road trip with a long lunch at Chez Panisse with my mother, who passed away last spring. Since then, my daughters and I have changed our summer routine.

This year's company was Jon, my college roommate at Berkeley, and a new friend, Janelle, the former director of the International Pinot Noir Celebration in Oregon. The occasion was to celebrate the day-before completion of my nine-day bicycle trip with Jon from Portland, Ore., to San Francisco. My oldest drinking friend's favorite wine that I have ever shared with him is Sassicaia 1999. My newest drinking friend said she had never had Dom Pérignon. In advance of the bike trip, before leaving Santa Fe, I sent a bottle of each to Colleen, my sister in Berkeley, who just so happens to wait tables at Chez Panisse.

Tuesday afternoon, the first day of 10 not spent on the bike, I walked with great anticipation the few blocks to Chez Panisse under the shade of the black acacia and old oak trees along Berkeley's Shattuck Avenue. The first to arrive, I eagerly climbed the stairs to the café and asked the young bartender to open a bottle of the current vintage of Domaine Tempier Bandol Rosé (as is the custom when at Chez Panisse; the stuff flows like water there). I nibbled on niçoise and picholine olives and smacked my lips with the first taste of the Tempier Rosé. "Damn, life is good," I said out loud. The 2009 vintage of Tempier's rosé is marvelous — typical, pale onion skin color, pungent nose of dried red stone fruits with a complex, saline-like, spicy, dried-strawberry palate.

In the spirit of Alice Waters' original idea for the café, I was about to embrace it as a great place to hang out with friends. Coming up on its 40th anniversary, Chez Panisse is named after Honoré Panisse, a character in the Marcel Pagnol film trilogy. The wines, foods and colorful cartoon characters on the Pagnol film posters that line the walls of the café remind diners of Waters' Provençal connections and sensibilities of cooking simply and close to the source.

Janelle arrived and, after the ritual sip of rosé at the bar, my sister sat us in a booth where the Dom Pérignon was on ice and the Sassicaia was on the table. Janelle and I toasted to her first sip of champagne, which, from the 2000 vintage, had a pale gold color, a fine bead, and smoky notes of lemon, brioche and pear framed in typical DP toastiness. The pizza my sister sent, with house-cured pancetta and rapini from Bob Cannard's Sonoma farm, was a perfect foil for the wine. Jon arrived just in time, and I poured him and my sister each a glass of champagne that we all raised in a toast to the absence (and presence) of my mother.

Next up were demitasse cups of squab brodo with fresh peas and chervil that tasted exactly as advertised. Samuel McFall, the wine sommelier at Santa Ana Pueblo's Prairie Star restaurant, was at a neighboring table and I sent him over a taste of the champagne. Sam responded with a glass of his Domaine Weinbach Riesling Cuvée St. Catherine 2004. One of my favorite producers of Alsatian white wine, the Weinbach sported a golden color, a nose of petrol and apricots, and a palate of fresh peaches with bracing acidity and mouth-coating unctuousness. It was spot on with the pair of salads that came next: carpaccio of salmon and shaved fennel dressed with Meyer lemon and the house olive oil and an heirloom tomato salad with purslane and basil oil.

House-made rigatoni with eggplant and Bellweather Farms ricotta cheese was up next. We opened and primed our Bordeaux glasses with a bit of the Sassicaia, but there was still Domaine Tempier rosé to drink and it could not have been a better pairing. The rosé was better yet with the next course, which both Jon and Janelle said was their favorite: buttermilk battered and fried Louisiana Gulf shrimp with cherry tomatoes, frisée and aioli. One cannot visit Chez Panisse without enjoying at least one aioli, the staple of Provence. As much as the café supports local farmers, my sister explained the Gulf shrimp dish was in support of the Louisiana Gulf fisherman, to show that all is not lost.

David Tanis, the executive chef, came by the table to say hello and share some wine. I poured around the Sassicaia and my sister served us a three-legged plate to share of roasted Liberty Farm duck with baby green beans and cipollini onions. Thank god for those three-legged ducks! The Sassicaia was an elegant showstopper. The first Cabernet-based Tuscan wine, Sassicaia is still one of Italy's most refined wines. The nose on the 1999, a five-star wine every time I have had the great opportunity of tasting it, was haunting. A skyscraper bouquet of crisp red and black fruits, layered with hints of cassis, tobacco and cedar, it was complicated and seamless on the palate at the same time, with a comforting and lingering finish. It reminded me of an Armani jacket over old jeans and a T-shirt.

From the fruit bowl on the bar, next came Middleton Garden Howard's Miracle Plums that dripped off the chin when their flesh was broken with eager teeth. At this point, we were so sated but how could we not enjoy the Frog Hollow Farm Arctic Glow nectarine tart and toasted almond ice cream that came next?

Enjoy we did, with double espressos all around to finish. It was nearly five and the dinner staff was coming in when we said goodbye to my sister, thanked the cooks and walked out into the dappled Berkeley sunlight, all the finer for another heavenly vinous lunch at Chez Panisse, the wine and company, both new and familiar. It was the perfect finish for the bike trip and an ideal invitation to the coming year.

Greg O'Byrne is executive director of the Santa Fe Wine & Chile Fiesta. His column appears in Taste on the third Wednesday of every month. Questions or comments? Write to vinevents@aol.com.