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Diana Krall is at Cioppino's Mediterranean Grill.

Here comes the sultry chanteuse, gliding back to the private wine room where she, husband Elvis Costello, Sarah McLachlan and several other famous musicians are dining.

Does anyone in the restaurant pay the illustrious party any heed? No, they're too busy gawking at television actor Goran Visnjic. He is sitting at the table behind us, chatting with his companions in Croatian.

This bustling Yaletown trattoria has been a magnet for celebrities since it opened in 1999. To wit: Executive chef and owner Pino Posteraro is the private caterer of choice for Al Pacino whenever the film star is in town; Canucks ace goaltender Roberto Luongo rarely plays a home game without first chowing down on a good-luck bowl of Cioppino's lobster linguine.

Given that the restaurant is already so successful, it's hard to imagine that the chef's first-place finish at the regional round of the Gold Medal Plates competition will make much of a difference. Who needs it?

"The money we raised [for Olympic athletes] was all that really mattered," Mr. Posteraro later explains by phone.

Altruism aside, last week's win must have been somewhat rewarding to a chef who is widely regarded by his peers as one of the best in the country (and has been since he helmed the kitchen at Celestino's in Toronto). So why, until this point, was he always a runner-up in Vancouver's numerous media-juried competitions?

Is there any correlation between that and his long-standing policy of not courting press or using a publicist? Hmm, one does wonder.

Mr. Posteraro clinched a well-deserved gold medal with his porcini mushroom and chestnut soup, a creamy purée emulsified with melting chunks of foie gras butter and topped with truffled brioche croutons. The two-part dish came with a side spoon of sautéed mushrooms nestled under cubes of chilled mushroom jelly.

The chef plans to recreate his winning soup at the national culinary contest's finale, to be held in Toronto in February.

Alas, it isn't on the regular menu.

Our waiter is doubtful when we request it.

"We just ate the last of it before service," he says with a laugh.

We sulk. The waiter confers with the kitchen. Chef appears at our table. Yes, the request is possible. We feel like celebrities.

The specially prepared dish ($12.95), which will be featured in the restaurant as of this week, is rich and satisfying, but not as frothy or deeply textured as the cup I tasted at the competition.

The wow-factor ingredient, foie gras, is missing. Chef reluctantly stopped serving it in the restaurant last summer, citing pressure from customers and animal-rights activists.

Call him a hypocrite, if you will. I, for one, am glad he didn't cave to the gastro-Philistines for the competition.

Our waiter returns to the table with a second helping of bread and says he won't take the bowl away until we sop up every last drop.

"One more swipe," he adds, still refusing to clear our plates after a second pass.

Ha, ha. Where was all that mother-hennish concern when we were struggling with the wine list?

Cioppino's is well known for its huge cellar - which also explains, in part, the restaurant's appeal to celebrities. Where else are they going to find 1962 Dom Pérignon for $2,488 a pop?

The waiter plops a book the size of a small-city phone directory on our table. We eventually decide on a $62 bottle of 2003 Trescone made by Lamborghini, which seems appropriately flash. Still, it would have been nice if we didn't have to beg for assistance.

Cioppino's also has a reputation - undeserved, in my mind - for being outrageously expensive. Sure, many of the main meat and fish courses hover in the $40 range, but the prices are comparable to other upscale restaurants in this high-rent neighbourhood.

And if you order wisely, you can still eat extremely well for less than you would at many of the city's second-tier restaurants.

Who would balk at paying $20 for a huge bowl of fresh pappardelle tossed with tender veal cheeks that have been braised for four hours in a fragrant bath of red wine, marrow-rich veal stock and porcini mushrooms?

The cheeks have a bright, sexy sheen. As with all of the restaurant's braised meats, they have been briefly revitalized in the sous-vide cooker method.

Linguine vongole ($22) is a great example of his Mr. Posteraro's deep respect for simple flavours. The white-wine sauce takes a light vegetable stock, which is less overwhelming than fish stock. The plate is piled high with juicy Manila clams.

Veal medallions al limone ($26) is made with grain-fed eye of round. The calf isn't as melt-in-your-mouth delicious as milk-fed Provimi (blame those bleeding-heart animal activists again). But the chef offers a zesty twist by adding artichokes to the glaze and dusting the plate with coarsely grated pecorino cheese.

The accompanying vegetables, presented in a separate silver dish, are no afterthoughts. Crisp unshelled peas are drizzled in high-quality olive oil. Fork-mashed potatoes are boiled with a bouquet of rosemary, thyme, sage and garlic. Ratatouille - its various components cooked separately before assembly and sweetly spiked with raisins - would impress even Anton Ego.

What the crusty restaurant critic from last summer's hit animated film would have to say about our waiter (a.k.a. the Dictator), we can only imagine.

"I'm not taking that away until you finish everything," he tuts, when we leave a bite of fluffy-light Limoncello cheesecake ($10) uneaten.

Really, we can't.

"Yes, you must."

Isn't the customer always right?

"Who told you that big, fat lie?"

Fortunately, the red Lamborghini has softened me up and I resist the urge to punch him.

Patronizing service aside, Cioppino's is a gold-medal champion in my books. But the real winner, famous or not, is the customer.

Cioppino's Mediterranean Grill: 1133 Hamilton St.; 604-688-7466

agill@globeandmail.ca