It's time to stop calling Art Smith "Oprah's chef." I mean, it doesn't hurt one iota to have your name linked with Oprah, but that depends on how strong the links are.

Smith actually was Oprah's personal chef, but time and chefs move on.

Table Fifty-Two is at 52 W. Elm Street and, if my count was right, it seats about 52 people. For a good number of years, this space was occupied by a cafe/bakery called Albert's. It was a fine thing that this smart little building was not torn down. And even better that someone like Smith took it over and did a total re-do of the space (yet kept its intrinsic character), turning it into one very fine, really terrific restaurant. In one word, the food here is exceptional. OK, two words: exceptionally delicious.

Smith and his staff exude Southern charm (Smith is originally from the South) and the hospitality here -- from the moment you enter till the time to leave -- is as thick as the Spanish moss on the oak trees in Savannah. And it is sincere, a pleasant graciousness without fault or faux.

And wow! The food is terrific. The menu isn't all that big, but it passes my "Choice Test" with flying colors. That test involves seeing so many good-sounding dishes listed that making a choice is almost unbearable. I wanted to try everything.

Smith was all around the room, greeting and talking to patrons. And while doing so, he dropped tasty tidbits on the tables (I was not singled out, because all around me patrons were getting samples). At one point it was a long tray filled with delicious deviled egg halves, each half topped with a sliver of okra. Instant gratification. Then there was a homemade biscuit popped out of a small cast-iron frying pan, the biscuit gently warmed and sporting a texture that wandered deliciously from light to fluffy to crispy.

Smith knows food, no doubt about it. His style here is Southern-comfort cooking edged with a border of American contemporary, and the results are incredible. Every dish, every bite eaten put a smile on my face, but with my wife it was nothing short of rapture.

We start with chilled gazpacho. Cool and refreshing, texturally perfect, this classic summer soup was centered with a handsome portion of sweet and delicious Kennebunkport lobster. Around the edge of the gazpacho were leaves of fresh basil, and those added an extra oomph of flavor. I had trouble trying to compute how a dish this elegant, and with so much lobster, can be served for only $10.50.

That same thought occurred with another appetizer -- Low Country shrimp with stone-ground grits. Talk about smacking with goodness. Four large shrimp were arranged tails up in the grits. Incomparable flavors from top to bottom. The shrimp could not have been cooked more perfectly and the grits -- creamy and luscious -- were the best I've had this side of Savannah. And a 12-buck bargain to boot.

There is a wood-burning oven built into one wall of the restaurant (with counter seating opposite). A lot of good food comes out of that oven, including pizza. Definitely this is not your run-of-the-mill red sauce pizza. Served on a long piece of designer wood (serving on wood is a trend these days), the pizza, rectangular in shape, the crust almost paper-thin (yet it has texture), was topped with a roasted tomato sauce, "handmade mozzarella," fresh basil and prosciutto di Parma. Off to one side of the board was a fluff of baby arugula gently anointed with a light olive oil dressing. Well done, Mr. Smith.

Entrees. A nightly fish special complements offerings like lamb chops, pork chop, chicken, a vegetarian offering (multigrain risotto with garden peas). In simplicity lies goodness.

Smith uses ingredients of high quality (Allen Brothers beef, Berkshire pork), so the main component of each dish rests on its own luxurious laurels. Berkshire pork, for example. This chop had chops. As thick as a brick, the chop (bone-on) was sliced into three pieces, and that revealed the interior moistness (one shade past pink, the new temperature for pork, which I applaud). Absolutely delicious. The only ingredients between me and my fine pork were the leaves of Brussels sprouts and pickled cherries scattered about.

A beef special one night was a boneless ribeye. The kitchen hit the bull's-eye once again. Perfectly medium-rare, the steak beautifully marbled, firm yet exquisitely tender. Joy in every bite. Three house-made ravioli stuffed with fennel and rosemary, thin slices of baby radish, a touch of tarragon and an eggless bearnaise sauce (all done with proper restraint) added indulgent interest.

A side dish of three-cheese macaroni and cheese was so good it was a fight to see who got the last piece of penne pasta. Don't miss it.

Desserts were as winning as the rest of the food. Of particular note was "Smith Family Twelve-Layer Cake." Each layer of this delicious cake was as thin as a reed, and that tricky technique contributed to its delicate lightness and enjoyment. A touch of ice cream and a scattering of fresh berries added yet another layer of enjoyment.

Also quite good was the blueberry-strawberry buckle. I would have liked to have seen more buckle in this beauty (served in a coffee cup), but there was no denying the goodness of the ice cream on top and the freshness of the berries that flowed throughout.

Smith is not only a terrific chef, he is a humanitarian and all around good guy. I am sure his smart and charming restaurant is a dream come true. The next time I visit Table Fifty-Two, hopefully for that special "Sunday Night Dinner," which features Chef Smith's famous buttermilk fried chicken, I plan to sit at the counter, so I can watch what goes in and out of that big oven (it would be sort of like being in the front row of a cooking class).

Pat Bruno is a free-lance writer, critic and author. E-mail brunoeats@aol.com.