There’s an unfair aura of pretentiousness that seems to cling to French restaurants. I blame the language. In the first place, you can hardly write about food without trotting out French words like cuisine (haute? nouvelle? Lean?) and gourmet. Then there are the dishes themselves. You sit down at a restaurant, open the menu and see extravagant names like chateaubriand and bouillabaisse, and suddenly you’ve got performance anxiety. You must order correctly, or everyone will turn and chortle at your faux pas before lighting their Gauloises en masse and blowing smoke in your face.
Toddlers and 5-year-olds, bless ’em, have no such preconceptions. “Hey boys, want to go to a French restaurant?” “YES!” comes the bellow from the back seat. Off we headed to La Bonne Bouchée.
Our first visit with the boys came during a Saturday afternoon shopping expedition. It was getting late and the guys were starving, so it wasn’t a surprise when they ordered the first thing they saw on the kids’ menu – a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I went old school with a wedge of quiche Lorraine, while Kathy looked pretense square in the eye and ordered the vol-au-vent.
Despite a packed house, service ticked along nicely. Our drinks and a basket of gloriously crusty rolls came quickly, which helped the boys settle down. They had just enough time to eat their rolls and start doodling on their paper placemats when our lunch arrived. The quiche was outstanding: thick, eggy custard with that perfect pop of nutmeg in each bite. Kathy’s vol-au-vent was a generous portion, with big chunks of chicken and mushrooms bathed in a velvety sauce.
But the real star turned out to be the boys’ PB&J. La Bonne Bouchée has elevated this humble kids’ mainstay into something sublime: two thick slices of fresh-baked bread, crusts neatly trimmed, then generously stuffed and sliced into triangles of geometric precision that would make I.M. Pei weep. And while both Brendan and Duncan had telltale jelly rings around their mouths when they were done, I don’t recall a single dollop of filling oozing free of that amazing bread.
The only disappointment came when we ordered the kids’ drinks. When we tried to get milk for them, our server told us that the kids’ meals came with soda. To order milk would be an extra charge. Of course, once the boys heard that, the cap was off the bottle and they both enjoyed a bubbly treat.
Our next visit was a less impromptu dinner excursion. This time the boys lingered by the long display cases, marveling at the colorful, glistening pastries and cakes. In fact, after we’d placed our orders, they went back to the patisserie side of the restaurant to stare a little longer.
This time we steered them toward traditional French fare, and as usual, they ate with gusto. The kitchen readily split one of the substantial slices of quiche Lorraine in two and made up separate fruit cups for each of the boys. Even the veggies (haricots verts and some roasted butternut squash) were divvied up – and gobbled up. Often-quiet Brendan declared, “You ordered the right quiche for us, Dad,” to which Duncan added, “Yeah, because I like cheese!” Kathy and I stuck to seafood this time; she enjoyed an Asian-influenced grilled salmon fillet, while I kept things simple with a nearly-too-big tuna salad croissant.
As stuffed as we were, we couldn’t not have dessert. Duncan got a delicate madeleine, which was gone before we could blink. Kathy and I split a slice of Four Flavor Cake, so named for the different flavored layers of mousse; it was far lighter than expected, and gone too soon. Brendan picked tiramisu, or La Bonne Bouchée’s spin on it. Though Brendan enjoyed it, Kathy and I thought the sponge cake was dry; it didn’t seem to have been soaked in coffee or liqueur.
Whether you’re going for a full meal (a full breakfast menu is also available) or just an elegant treat from the pastry case, La Bonne Bouchée is dining sans pretense, and a great entry point to French cuisine for your kids. Two big and two little forks up, and a hearty “C’est si bon.”
This article appears in Apr 1-30, 2008.