Edgar

The Folk Singer and I have been in a bistro mood as of late. Sometimes there is nothing better than simple but refined French fare. Cafe Degas, one of the longest running French bistros in the city, is my standby. Something about the cramped seating, candlelit tables, and open-air dining room just relaxes the mind and body. The food is quite good as well.

Starters are limited to the classics: patés, cheese, mussels, boudin noir, and escargot. We usually start with a combination paté and cheese board which offers two selections of each for $18. The onion soup (above) is also a popular choice while the weather is still cool. The daily specials placed inside the menu cover can surprise as well. On one visit a purse of phyllo dough surrounding duck confit and goat cheese was phenomenal; the sweetness of a raspberry vinaigrette giving the light pastry an almost baklava quality.

With such a short list of entrees (only 4 on the regular menu), it's a wonder why I always have so much difficulty deciding what to order. The parmesan crusted veal usually wins out. The dish is so simple: thinly pounded veal medallions encrusted in bread crumbs and parmesan with a simple yet superb lemon and caper beurre blanc.

The Australian rack of lamb (The Pope's favorite) is a trifecta and a deuce of succulent, rosy-fleshed lamb served with baby carrots and hush puppies. The hanger steak is a bit chewy and better enjoyed elsewhere, but the long, thin fresh cut french fries are worthy of sharing among the table.

The desserts are handwritten with marker on a whiteboard - a European (albeit modernized) touch which I have waxed about before. Some desserts are made in house while others admitted come straight from Maurice's. The chocolate decadence cake is one of the latter, but the Grand Marnier syrup drizzled on top was a nice added bit of jazz.

As we exited the empty dining room on a recent Sunday night, we passed the owners sipping wine in the bar. They bid us au revoir with a smile, and as the door closed behind us I said to The Folk Singer, "How much fun do you think they have running that restaurant?"

Perhaps almost as much as we have eating there.

Cafe Degas - Birdie