Daniel Patterson is a hard act to follow.

The cerebral and celebrated chef created a very personal oasis of zen elegance in a neighborhood of strip clubs when he opened Coi in San Francisco.

Last year, he decided to step down as executive chef to devote more time to overseeing his growing roster of restaurants — Alta CA in San Francisco, Aster in San Francisco, Haven in Oakland, and Plum Bar in Oakland — as well as his new Locol fast-food concept in partnership with Roy Choi of Kogi BBQ Truck fame.

But he has found a most accomplished successor in Matthew Kirkley, who took over COI in January. The Baltimore-reared chef has worked at such renowned establishments as the Fat Duck in London, L20 in Chicago, Restaurant Joel Robuchon in Las Vegas, and Le Meurice in Paris.

His flawless technique and breathtaking food attest to the fact that Patterson has left Coi in extraordinary hands.

I had a chance to experience it when I was invited in as a guest of the restaurant earlier this month.

While Patterson hewed toward a vegetable-centric approach, Kirkley plays up his long love affair with seafood that began as a child when he would go crabbing with is father on the docks of the Chesapeake Bay. The seafood emphasis is amplified even more with many of the delicate porcelain plates, which are decorated with brush-stroke images of carp and jellyfish.

Only one menu is offered each night — 11 courses (including mignardises) at $225 per person. Three different wine pairings are offered: Classic, with pours for every course; or Cellar Selections, with your choice of California or European, with fewer pours of more distinctive wines).

I opted for the European Cellar Selection ($250 per person). Sommeliers use a hand-held Coravin wine system that allows them to pour wine from a bottle without actually uncorking it. A needle is inserted through the cork to access the wine. Once the desired amount is withdrawn from the bottle, the needle is extracted, and the cork naturally reforms to seal the bottle.

There’s also a novel tea pairing at $75 for those who don’t want to imbibe alcohol.

Dinner began with a single, precious pommes souffle perched atop origami fortune teller, the type of which I remember making as a child. The puff was shatteringly crisp like the world’s best potato chip. Inside was a gush of creamy salt cod almost playing the part of your favorite dip. The surprise? The coffee powder sprinkled on top that added a familiar earthy gentle jolt.

A delicate buckwheat crepe crisp accompanied geoduck, its briny, natural sweetness made lush with the addition of lardo. It was paired with a glass of Krug “Grand Cuvee” Champagne, a blend of 14 vintages, a full-bodied, toasty sip redolent of apples and sweet baking spices.

Next, one of the most beautifully composed dishes I’ve ever seen — slivers of pearly North Atlantic fluke, gently rolled up and placed precisely in a row with compressed white etrog (an Israeli citrus with deep perfume and tang) capped with Israeli osetra caviar. It looked like a modern art exhibit; it tasted like a dream. It was perfect with the 2013 Domaine Didier Dagueneau “Blanc Fume de Pouilly” with its clean taste of minerals and citrus.

Ocean trout was equally stunning to behold, looking almost like game pieces on a plate. The salmon-like fish was decked out with tiles of chartreuse and lime, orbs made of heavy cream, creme fraiche and Mandarin and Meyer citrus, and teeny basket-weave chips.

Even butter turns dazzling here, as ribbons of Straus butter are stacked upon one another. Remember those butter roses of yesteryear? It’s like that, but more free-form and modern, almost like a Chihuly sculpture done in butter. Spread it on the hearty, house-made sourdough-rye rolls made with sea lettuce.

Luxurious tasting Maine lobster tail is adorned with doll-sized striped tortellini filled with matsutake, and black and royal trumpet mushrooms. Sauce maltaise, a hollandaise with blood orange added to it, is rich but lightened by the citrus. This is sea meets earth in a most seductive way. With it, came a pour of 2008 Jean Marc Morey Chassagne-Montrachet “Les Champs-Gains” Premier Cru, a stellar white Burgundy.

Next, another dish that is nearly too gorgeous to eat — wild turbot covered in “scales” fashioned from paper-thin slices of winter vegetables. The delicate fish was cooked on a hot plate, then sauced with buerre Cancalaise, a rich butter sauce originating in Brittany.

“Squab in Mourning” is a clever name for a clever dish that indeed looks a little gothic. A tempura-fried spot prawn is the only hint of color in this dramatic presentation of squab and black truffle. Its leg comes with its talon still attached. The breast is cloaked in a black “skin” of shrimp mousseline. And the head is split for you to scoop out the fatty, custardy brain. It’s a dish that’s somehow primal yet graceful. To sip is the 2006 Chateau Lynch Bages, Pauillac, full-bodied and tannic enough to stand up to the squab and with deep blackberry notes to complement dark poultry like this.

To cleanse the palate, a bowl of grapefruit sorbet with chervil and grapefruit salad — all hidden below a foamy fluff of marshmallow.

A glass of 1999 Chateau-Suduiraut Sauternes, sweet with flavors of honey and marmalade but with enough acid not to be cloying in any way, lets you know dessert is definitely on the way.

First, there is cannoli with an exterior that’s actually a cross between the traditional Italian pastry and a Chinese fortune cookie, as the general manager explained. It’s thin and crisp like a wafer cookie, and filled with fluffy hibiscus cream. It perches over a pool of jammy rhubarb compote. You shatter the cannoli with your spoon so that it mixes with the fruit to create the ultimate mouthful.

Second, there is a chic slice of almond cake layered with amaretto caramel with candied preserved lemon. It’s light as air, and full of nuttiness.

Finally, the server returns with one last treat: a box that comes apart to reveal separate compartments for coconut-chocolate macarons, yuzu financiers, beet and blood orange pate de fruits, and Lego-like matcha-white chocolate bars.

Is Coi as good as ever, even with the chef change? In truth, it might even be better. And that’s saying something.