If Fore Street is as much a symbol of Portland as the Portland Head Light, what’s in it for us lesser, local mortals who want to participate unabated? Mightn’t we be allowed to marvel over Chef/owner Sam Hayward’s award-winning cuisine as readily as we might buy a picture post card? To what extent should we cherish such an exalted presence if we can’t get in, as though we were the home team banished to another state?

There’s some consolation in knowing that we have such a legendary star in our very own galaxy. But, it’s no longer the only game in town. Witness the prominence of the other big guns who’ve garnered respectability and a share of the spoils: Hugo’s, Five Fifty-Five, Back Bay Grill and Bandol.

Still, if only Fore Street could be our local hang out life would be sweet. Instead, to earn the privilege of a 7:30 reservation, you need a nod of divine intervention.

It’s their annoying reservation policy that keeps us at arm’s length. On a nightly basis, 36 percent of the tables are reserved for no-reservation walk-ins. As far as I can tell I see no one walking in who isn’t already seated.

Walk- ins indeed. Who are these mystery perambulators supposed to be anyway? No one that you or I know.

Have you ever walked in and gotten a table at Fore Street without fuss?

What should happen is a 100 percent booking policy. At least you know where you stand, no pun intended. It’s not as though wayward mariners are pulling up to our decaying docks and walking over to grab some grub at Maine’s most famous eatery.

OK. I’m venting. And I’ll stop now.

After all is said and done, I love Fore Street. There’s something so gloriously simple and pure about Hayward’s cooking that makes it unique.

What is it exactly? The outrageous complexities of simplicity? Where the freshest, purest ingredients conspire in extant folds of nuance and style? Where flavor has an uncontrived, ineluctable grip on our senses.

So I’m willing, after a few pouting moments, to look the other way ultimately and wait my turn to rest my elbows on their copper-topped tables.

Here’s what happened the other night. I walked in—no reservation--at nearly nine in the evening, shown to a table immediately and proceeded to enjoy one of the best meals ever at Fore Street.

Let me put it in perspective. By 9 pm, many restaurants here are winding down. Here the crush is merely thinning. By 10:30 the throng is gone. Nonetheless the walk-in policy works before sundown and later in the dinner hour. I hit it right as a late bird landing an empty table.

Still, I wasn’t complaining any more. In fact, I was nearly tipsy with delight to be there, as though a long-estranged inamorata embraced my return.

We were given a large booth, usually reserved for 4 or 6. We felt very privileged with so much space.

The wait staff is about the best in town. They’re briefed well and can guide and cajole you to select wisely.

What I also like about Fore Street is that their menu changes daily, a practice that more restaurants should follow.

As we studied the menu we noticed something significantly different about it. In a moment I realized there was a thematic overhaul since we were there last. In the middle of the menu was a new section called Vegetables and Sides.

What’s this? Did it mean that the famous family platter of Hayward’s heavenly garlic mashed potatoes and accompanying sides were no longer a given? Or worse yet, stricken from the menu?

The waitress explained that these new side dishes were being offered a la carte, replacing the vegetable platter that used to come with entrees.

I wasn’t sure if I liked that. After all, those potatoes virtually put the restaurant on the culinary map.

I calmed down a bit as I studied the vegetable list:

Broccoli with Exotic Mushroom Butter 4.00
Braised Collard Greens with Apple Bacon and Onion 3.00
Braised Aroostook County Beets with Toasted Walnut Butter 4.00
Duck-Fat Roasted Organic Maine Fingerling Potatoes 5.00
Garlic Mashed Organic Maine Potatoes 5.00
Roasted Cauliflower with Toasted Breadcrumbs 4.00
Grilled Organic Chantenay Carrots with Blue Cheese Butter 5.00

We were also told that the entrée pricing reflected this change, with average prices reduced.

The prices looked about the same to me. Entrees are still in the $18 to $27 range.

OK. I’m not going to split hairs or count quarters.

Appetizer choices were a lofty mix of salads, shellfish, foie gras, game, pizza, pasta and soup.

I chose one I hadn’t tried before: Grilled frisee and Brussels sprouts salad, with endive, pistachios and Dijon vinaigrette.

My companion had the foie gras, done with figs, rosemary and cider.

My starter was a bit misnamed. It should have been called endive salad. The dish was built upon a foundation of endives topped with Brussels sprouts, grilled frisee and flakes of pistachio--all set in a very good Dijon vinaigrette.

It was a perfect blend that showed off the Hayward style beautifully. He created a marvel of simple, everyday ingredients, fashioned into an opulent equation of contrasting flavors and texture. The spouts were as small as marbles (I’d like to know where they come from this time of year) that were perhaps a bit too al dente. The bits of smoky, grilled frisee stood out like a condiment. The pistachios added nice flecks of color and crunch. It was a great salad and I’d have it again.

The foie gras is a luxurious delight if you like the dish, which I do. It’s paired with figs and rosemary, as lightly introduced as rain drops. The kicker is Hayward’s use of cider rather than Sauternes. The preparation is an Americanism that aptly defines his native bistro cooking.

I studied the new vegetable dishes carefully before deciding on our choices. We both ordered fish as entrees, so we opted for the heady flavors that we found in the braised collard greens and the chantenay carrots.

In some ways it was a relief not to be tempted by those instant-weight-gain potatoes. They are on the menu if you want them.

I love greens—collards, kale, mustard, turnip, beet—and the collard preparation we ordered was perfect.

It’s a big-flavor dish, bold with bacon and onions, done in true southern style, sweet and pungent. It did not; however overwhelm the fish, which stood on its own anyway. But this side could easily accompany roast pork or chicken, venison or duck.

The carrots were another example of relying on the flavor of fine, organic ingredients to say it all. Chantenay carrots are bold, sweet and earthy. You can get them here in the summer and fall at most farmer’s markets and at organic food stores now.

They were cut into large spears and would have benefitted from another 50 seconds in a parboiling bath. Perhaps a bit too much gild on the lily, the carrots were bathed in a blue-cheese butter deliciously over the top.

Fore Street usually prepares fish quite well, and tonight’s choices were exceptional. We chose wood-oven roasted blue fish and the pan-seared flounder.

When handled well, blue fish is a great fish, even if it’s often considered a low-rent resident of the sea. With its rich, oily texture it epitomizes the essence of a powerful tasting fish. It was served with a nicely assertive mustard sauce, for which I happily depleted our bread basket to get every last drop of sauce.

The flounder is a snappy little dish, too, made provocative here by expert handling. It’s pan-seared, beautifully delicate and presented under what’s described as a shellfish cream. The sauce is probably a well tended devise rich in shellfish fumet commandeered into a silken, creamy sauce.

The dessert choices were a bit skimpy that evening but we managed. Missing were the usual cakes or pastries, except for the standard tarte tatin, which is always good.

I chose the frozen Meyer lemon mousse with honey Madeleines. It was garnished with brandied blueberries, which should be immortalized. The mousse is a winsome creation that could make devout ice-cream lovers change course forever.

It was show-stopper mousse all the way. Crafted into an empirical dome of Meyer lemon whipped cream it sat beautifully formed as a lightly frozen still-life on the plate. With the brandied blueberries strewn about like gemstones, it brought sweet balance to the lemony tang within. I could forego my favorite cakes or pastries and have this dessert again

My companion had the trio of sorbets—cider clementine-buttermilk and quince--that were divine; each one tasted succinctly, distinctly its own.

If I weren’t dining at home tomorrow, preparing one of my Sunday night dinners, I’d go to Fore Street instead. If we have what’s predicted to be a heavy snow storm on Monday, I may just slide down the hill to the Old Port and glide into a weather-aborted night at Fore Street. And if those happenstance fantasies don’t occur, I guess I’ll just wait my turn until I can go there again.

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