For an unprecedented 44 years, this charming Victorian in downtown Mountain View has drawn crowds and accolades for its fine-dining cuisine that has proved a jumping off point for a roster of some of the Bay Area’s most illustrious chefs.

Last year, though, Chez TJ lost its Michelin star after an impressive 19-year streak, a crushing blow to owner George Aviet. It was Mountain View’s only Michelin-starred restaurant, too.

But Aviet, 69, remains as determined as ever to forge ahead and continue to shape the restaurant into the best that it can be.

He and his late business partner Thomas J. McCombie bought the 1894 property in the early 1980s, and opened it as a restaurant in 1982. When McCombie died unexpectedly of a heart attack at the young age of 44 in 1994, Aviet pressed on, resolute in keeping Chez TJ going in McCombie’s memory and spirit.

He’s done more than an admirable job. In fact, he’s had an uncanny ability to hire young chefs, who after making a name for themselves at Chez TJ, have spring-boarded into stardom.

Among those who have helmed the kitchen here? Joshua Skenes, who went on to open San Francisco’s Saison and Angler. Christopher Kostow, who not only earned Chez TJ’s first Michelin star, but a year later its only Michelin two-star ranking, before going on to earn three Michelin stars at The Restaurant at Meadowood in St. Helena. He now operates the Charter Oak in St. Helena, Ciccio in Yountville, and Loveski Deli in Napa and Larkspur. Bruno Chemel, who later opened his award-winning Baume in Palo Alto, and now operates Le Parc Bistrobar in San Francisco. Scott Nishiyama, who worked at the French Laundry, then opened Ethel’s Fancy in Palo Alto. And Jarad Gallagher, who is now the vice president of culinary operations for the Shashi Group.

Now comes Salinas-raised Chef Mo Bejar, who has cooked at Foliage in San Francisco, Madera in Menlo Park, Bird Dog in Palo Alto, and the Bernardus Lodge in Carmel Valley.

Recently, I had a chance to try the new menu at Chez TJ, when Aviet invited me in as a guest of the restaurant.

The tasting menu is $210 per person. The nightly wine pairing is $130; and the grand wine pairing is $250.

With three parlor-like dining rooms inside, a meal here always feels cozy, as if your well-to-do aunt invited you over for a special evening. Tiffany-style lamps used to grace each table, but now, many of them have been replaced by minimalist LED table lamps.

Service is as attentive, as always, with stools set out for ladies to perch their purses; and black napkins subbed out for white ones for guests in darker attire.

Dinner begins with a shot glass of grassy green brassica veloute, seasoned with fenugreek oil for a whisper of burnt sugar, and guanciale powder for a fatty smokiness.

That’s followed by a silky pear panna cotta unexpectedly paired with Royal Kaluga caviar, fermented gooseberry, and dill. The gentle sweetness plays with the briny, buttery taste of the caviar, though, it may have needed an additional element to tie everything together seamlessly.

Next, a tiny tartlette of red snapper dolloped with creme fraiche, pops with finger lime, and shaved sharp fresh horseradish.

Who doesn’t love a sweet potato so deeply caramelized that it gets sticky in some parts? Here, the Okinawan variety gets blanketed in burrata with brown butter foam. Though the presentation could have been a little more artful, it’s a dish that really satisfies. House-baked baguettes, crusty and chewy, are served alongside so you can sop up every morsel of creaminess, too.

Before transitioning to the entree courses, a warming mushroom-barley tea is poured. It’s earthy and toasting tasting. Because it’s a “tea,” it is much lighter on the palate than, say, a deeply savory consomme.

Slices of house-made levain arrive with little bowls of orange-scented ricotta to slather on.

It accompanies crispy-skin squab in dark mole sauce with smoked chanterelles. A squab jus is poured at the table, though, I’m not sure it’s actually needed, as the mole is delicious as is. I only wish there had been more of the mole, as it sparing portion is rather hidden underneath the squab.

Next up, tender Australian Wagyu with a thick, creamy, smoky parsnip puree. A jus made with peppercorns and sourdough starter is poured over at the table.

Since we dined a couple days before Valentine’s Day, dessert already reflected that holiday. Pastry Chef Lola Montelongo, who started her career at Alexander’s Patisserie in Mountain View, had fashioned a pink heart of strawberry-basil semifreddo. At the edge of the plate were garnishes of strawberry caviar, honeycomb powder, strawberry vinegar gel, and strawberry foam. Girly looking, and light and airy in texture, it proved a worthy symbol of a holiday all about love.

The final bites were mignardises of tiny hazelnut cream-filled choux with torched creme brulee-like tops; the teeniest palmiers; and the whimsically named “The Lime & The Coconut Ganache,” for the lime in the creamy coconut that’s all wrapped in dark chocolate.

Overall, it was a lovely meal, though somewhat lacking in the intensity of flavor and dazzling finesse of years past. However, Bejar has only been there for two months. I’m sure that Aviet is confident that his cooking will continue to evolve. After all, his eye for spotting talent hasn’t failed him yet.