A New French Bistro Does Spot-On Country Fare, Just Like Grand-Mere, That's Stylish But Not Dear

Restaurant-reviewing has its bittersweet moments. Sometimes you come upon a place so likable that you only want to tell very close friends about it, but word gets around, which is what's happening with Cassis Bistro. People pause, read the menu, walk in. Guests of nearby hotels find their way here. Open only a month, this little spot is already drawing regulars.

It's a gutsy move to launch a place outside the downtown eating circuit on a ho-hum stretch of West Pender Street. Behind the transformation of this former martini lounge are Vancouverites Ben Coté and Daniel McClintock, and Sam Wilcox from Gloucestershire, England. All are under 25; all have restaurant experience. Coté the chef trained with two of the city's all-time best, Robert Sulatycky and Michael Noble (both now elsewhere). What they instilled in him is an obsession, he says in a phone interview, "to present pure flavour without excesses", and that's pretty much what he does.

Grandmère fare is the heart of the menu, honest, authentic, deeply tasty, and completely unfussy--except for rustic sprigs of thyme or basil. Coté calls his approach "really simple French cooking": a daube of beef that simmers for upward of four hours; blanquette de veau (when did you last see that?); choucroute with braised smoked pork shank and house-made sausage. Herbs, wine, pancetta--waves of taste roll around in your mouth from the robust coq au vin with its jaunty cockade of oven-dried tomato. This is outstanding comfort food, partly because free-range chicken--deboned--and "a drinking wine" are the main ingredients. You spoon it up to the last drop, wiping the final smears with chunks of bread (which comes, by the way, from Point Grey's Mix the Bakery).

Stand up and sing "La Marseillaise". The broth of the bouillabaisse here (toasted baguette and glossy aioli on the side) is the real thing, exhaling Pernod, fennel, and orange peel, the steaming bowl brimming with prawns, mussels, clams, and what could be skate because of its texture but is in fact ling cod marinated in citrus, a detail that gives some idea of the care and invention that Coté brings to his kitchen. You expect this in high-end restaurants but not in a place where (barring a "sharing" platter of Dungeness crab dip) not a single dish costs more than $10.

Made by a friend, even desserts are slow, the cheesecake baked 12 hours to keep it moist. It's one I still haven't tried: I've yet to wean myself off the sprightly lemon tart with its drops of fresh peach coulis. Coté likes to use what's in season: right now he's playing with peaches, marinating them with white balsamic and oven-drying them to add to a salad of baby spinach, prosciutto, and goat cheese. His salade niçoise is as traditional as berets and striped sweaters, except in presentation, a small stack of ingredients flanked by coinlike slices of seared Ahi tuna.

Cassis Bistro's home is an old, old building, which means high, high ceilings and a massive front window. You can sit at the bar and peer into the semi-open kitchen. You can sink into the sofas at the rear of the room. Outdoors, the curse of the alleyway masked by white trellis, you can settle on the petite patio. Style, not money, is behind the décor. The dining chairs wear grey flannel suits. Wilcox, the British one, painted the trim and beams deep burgundy red, and the walls green-grey. White china oblong trays on each table hold plain salt, sea salt, and pepper.

Dishes aren't huge; you're meant to mix, match, and share from the list of vegetables and cassoulets. The ratatouille is textbook, a sunny collage of eggplant, zucchini, and tomato that's intense in flavour. Opinions were divided on the Puy lentil "cassoulet", with one vote against including green olives, and one vote for how their sharpness balanced the earthy lentils. There's draft, bottled, cocktails, and a wine list, which needs a few more at the low end but it's a work in progress.

Cassis is smart but not posh. You could slide in with jeans, or tarted up for the theatre (and it's handy for the city's entertainment centre), or pre-club to get in the mood with a live DJ, or for lunch (an edited evening menu plus crepes and panini). The value's unbeatable. Onion soup for $5.20? That coq au vin for $8.20? Dinner for two (four dishes and a dessert) with glasses of house red, and coffees, came to $50. A real little gem.

CASSIS BISTRO 420 West Pender Street, 604-605-0420. Open Monday to Friday 11 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., daily 5:30 p.m. to 1 a.m.