We've known each other for several years now, so I feel comfortable asking what might be considered a very personal question: Do you trust your chef?

I'm not asking if you trust him not to steal your wallet while you're in the bathroom or "borrow" your car for an extended weekend of semi-nude off-roading in the Canadian Rockies. I've been a kitchen grunt for a good portion of my working life, and I wouldn't trust most of my fellows on the line with a Li'l Tykes Cozy Coupe, much less something with an actual engine. But I'd trust any of them at my back in a bar fight.

No, friends, I'm talking about a different, deeper and more significant trust. Would you trust your chef to create you and a guest a multi-course meal with absolutely no input from you whatsoever? Would you trust him to have paid enough attention to your likes and dislikes over the years and to have sufficient confidence in his own skill and creativity to pull off a winner?

(A quick aside: I'll be using male pronouns in reference to chefs. This is not in any way meant to slight the astoundingly talented female chefs currently burning up the culinary charts, it's simply a matter of narrative flow.)

It's no small question. You'd be amazed at the sort of evil geniuses you'll find behind those swinging kitchen doors. I've known chefs in Italian restaurants who could cook their menu very well, but whose real specialty was Korean cuisine and who had a secret lust to make kimchi lasagna. In truth, you may never find a chef you trust that much. You certainly won't if you stick to chain restaurants, where the menu is strictly governed and off-menu creativity is met with stark disapproval and even disciplinary action.

Lucky for me, I've found a chef and a sous chef I would happily trust with my tastebuds' life. The dynamic duo of Mark Hibbs and Greg Balch, chef/owner and sous chef of Ratcliffe on the Green restaurant in downtown Charlotte are the mad masters of meat, the sultans of subtle spice and the prime poobahs of plate presentation.

Allow me to illustrate: One evening in September, I had a friend visiting from Great Britain to whom I wanted to show off the local cuisine. I made reservations at ROTG and told the maitre'd that I wanted the four-course tasting menu, but that Mark and Greg were free to create as they wished.

If you want to make a request like that of your favorite chef, please be sure to do so on a night or at a time that the restaurant will not be swamped with customers. When the kitchen is running full steam just to keep up with what's on the menu, it's unfair to expect the chef to step out of the flow to create for you.

Fortunately, we were dining early on a slow night, and my request was granted. My friend and I settled in and awaited the first course, which turned out to be an exquisitely created petite bouillabaisse, with a broth so flavorful I shamelessly employed two of the restaurant's famous buttermilk biscuits to sop it all up. The lobster claw meat by itself was worth the whole experience.

Next came what proved to be my own favorite of the evening, a pork tureen. This may be the greatest thing ever done with bacon, using at as the shell in which was placed pulled pork, smoked pork belly and other bits of oinker that made for an almost impossibly decadent experience. I've never eaten the like, and am now mildly obsessed with re-creating my own version of it at home. It was served on a Hubbard squash puree that complimented the smokiness of the bacon perfectly.

I could have eaten two more of those, but agreed to trade that for the third course, Veal Wellington served with Mark's famous truffled mashed potatoes. The mushroom duxelles topping the veal was incredibly bold, with an intense mushroom flavor that melded brilliantly with the veal. As you'd expect from a place where the owner's wife is the pastry chef, the outer shell was a miracle of flaky perfection. The mashed potatoes, my one specific request as I knew my British friend would enjoy them, could have been a meal by themselves.

Dessert was a simple crème brûlée which managed, without being ostentatious, to provide the perfect mellow finish to what had been an exhilarating culinary ride. It was the food equivalent of that long roll into the end of a roller coaster, where you feel your heart slow down and feel the giddiness of that last loop-the-loop.

The sommelier provided wines with each course, and while I don't know beans about vino, I can tell you that he knew his stuff. The "nose" on the red he brought with the pork tureen was so bewitching I could have spent an hour with my nose in the glass.

Hungry yet? Well, I didn't tell you about all this to gloat or to make you long for a restaurant experience you'll never have. I want you to go out in your town or city and seek out your own Ratcliffe on the Green. It may not be a high-end place ... heck, it might be a burger joint with a cook who's got a creative streak. The important thing is to get to know the staff, both front and back of the house, and make yourself a reputation as a good customer who is willing to try new things and who knows how to tip properly. If you're someone who calculates that 15-percent tip to the penny and is merciless in deducting from it for the slightest perceived misstep, don't bother asking for special treatment.

Tip well, treat the staff like human beings and show the chefs you're curious about what he can do when he gets creative and you just might end up with a meal to remember.

Got a question? Comment? Topic you'd like to see covered? Product you'd like reviewed? Drop me a line, anytime!