My list of restaurants that I favor in the Portland area has until recently fit on one 8-by-11 sheet of paper that I have hanging on a bulletin board in my office. Whenever I need to expand it (so far no deletions) I go to a file in my computer where I can access it easily to make changes and print a new version.

Since the list is alphabetized, the first entry is still Back Bay Grill. Yet if I were to compose this list based on ratings, estimations of best to worst, would the aforementioned remain on top?

That’s not easy for me to answer because we have a nice little package of Portland restaurants that share top billing for different reasons. Outside the city, contenders like Primo in Rockland, Francine’s in Camden, Provence in Ogunquit fare quite well.

When I went to Back Bay Grill on a recent Friday night, the moment I walked in I sensed instinctively that the start of a great meal was moments away. An energy and positive force filled the room. The two dining rooms were full and upbeat. The open kitchen looked like a practiced, well versed crew working in precise steps to finish the food that the excellent servers would bring to table.

Larry Mathews, who has been the chef there for years, has given the day to day running of the kitchen over to his excellent sous chef in favor of manning the front of the house as diners arrive. He greets you in his sparkling white chef’s jacket. That night I was easily reminded of Andre Soltner of Lutece fame in New York, in his chef’s whites, to greet you when you walked in, eventually darting in and out of the kitchen at intervals to chat to one and all in the dining room.

Mathews who is executive chef and proprietor of Portland’s longest running establishment of high cuisine has made the transition easily and successfully to manager/proprietor, still keeping a keen eye on the kitchen like a mother hen on gilded ground.

With so much competition these days—and no need to name names—I’m glad to say that Back Bay is holding its own superbly. From start to finish you’re in for a splendid few hours of delicious, expertly prepared food that you’ll remember long after you’ve finished.

We have a lot of different styles of cooking in Portland. You can cite Cinque Terre for its wonderful interpretations of Tuscan fare, Five Fifty Five’s casually elegant menu of inventive New American Bistro style, Uffa’s rustic French country cooking, Bandol’s exquisite interpretations of haute cuisine, Hugo’s thoroughly original gastronomic mandate that’s received such national acclaim and Fore Street, who still strolls along the culinary highway making simple fare taste wonderfully rich and complex.

Back Bay, I think, stands apart for its own reasons, with its unique approach to the classics-- elegant Continental themes evoking French, Mediterranean and American idioms.

You can have, for instance, foie gras in a variety of restaurants, but Back Bay’s version is victorious. It’s usually presented in a sublimely rich port sauce, with pearl onions and brioche toast. The flavorings are so intense you almost feel like you’ve just had the essence of foie gras in its entirety.

The menu has subtle changes daily, though it’s based on a set formula of offerings. Several kinds of salads are offered, like the baby greens with candied walnuts, English Stilton and Port wine vinaigrette. There are often crab cakes, a soup, which changes often, steamed mussels and a fish selection like crab cakes or scallops.

The main course selections include the standard categories of fish, lamb beef, chicken and duck.

The night we were there I started off with a cream of fennel soup, which was beautifully presented in an oversized bowl. The silken puree is enhanced with an island of cream scented with lemon oil floating on top, creating a subtle interweaving of flavors between the tangy cream and the ethereal fragrance of the fennel. The flavor of the fennel base was strikingly satisfying.

Other first course choices that evening that caught our attention were porcini dusted scallops with bacon and white truffle vinaigrette and the ravioli with a filling of braised short ribs in a brown butter and sage sauce. My dinner companion chose the latter and seemed quite pleased over the choice.

I sampled it and wished I had it all to myself. I hope to catch it on the menu the next time I go because it’s a thrilling dish. The house-made ravioli is filled with dollops of richly braised beef; set in a luxurious pool of brown butter and sage, the flavors of which are so subtle they practically sneak up on you in a gallant burst of taste.

There is an excellent and expensive wine list, representing the best regions. I generally opt for a Zinfandel, because it’s usually the most reasonable and reliable. We didn’t order a bottle that evening but started off with a cocktail each and a glass of wine with our main courses.

Over the years there have been some changes to the interior décor, all for the better. Of course the great mural in the back dining room holds sway, like an historic rendering of the restaurant.

And it’s one of Portland’s most comfortable rooms in which to dine. The chairs are firm, solid and plush, set around large tables that don’t make you feel like two peas scraping along the pods. If I never have to sit on hard rock chairs again in cramped quarters—so often the case elsewhere in lesser portals--I’ll be quite happy indeed. The banquette seating is commodious as well.

The bar was quite lively that night. It was packed with a convivial dining crew where everyone seemed to be navigating plates of steamed mussels.

Our main course selections were outstanding. I chose the Duck Two Ways. This is a great dish and a standard of New American cooking. But it’s done awfully well here.

The confit is seared and the breast has a beautiful scent of lavender. It’s served with white beans, pesto and leeks. I loved it, and it was one of the rare times that I practically demolished my plate in order to finish every morsel on it. My dinner mate had the Casco Bay cod, which is served with pomme fondant, saffron sauce and watercress. The “pomme” preparation is one of those classics of French cooking, which I’ve tried to reproduce at home with little success, I might add, or at least in the way it’s done here. It’s basically potatoes that are oven baked in a suspension of butter and liquid, such as wine or stock. The slices emerge luxurious in texture and taste. It was a companionable friend for the fish, light and delicate, loaded with flavor, especially with its counterpoint of Chorizo and saffron.

By the time we finished our main courses I, at least, could have started all over again, grazing down the menu to try everything else on it.

If I have any qualms about Back Bay—and let me interject now that these ensuing comments are minor indeed—it’s the dessert selection. The restaurant clearly does not employ a pastry chef. Perhaps because the food is so rich and good, desserts are viewed as interlopers at the finish line. I, for one, wouldn’t mind a thin slice of lemon tart, or a raspberry mousse, or genoise with chocolate ganache after so fine a meal. I even hate to bring it up, but what the heck.

Still, what they do offer has been in high demand for years and is utterly lip-smacking great. Why should I even bother to comment on the foregoing?

Ice cream is the main event, and any and all devotees of Back Bay have luxuriated in the white chocolate ice cream, with chocolate confetti and caramel sauce.

There are a few other dessert selections, including a bread pudding. But it’s the ice cream that wins over all. I had it that evening and my dish was empty in under a minute.

It’s reassuring that Back Bay Grill has endured so well and so long. It doesn’t rest on past achievements but continues to explore new ground each day like a blissful trooper presiding over simple pleasures.

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