First there was La Régalade, West Vancouver’s acclaimed French bistro headed by chef Alain Rayé and his wife, Brigitte. Then came its offspring, Café Régalade on Vancouver’s west side, headed by the couple’s son Steeve. Now there’s La Cigale, the latest eatery to be started by members of the Rayé family, only this time it’s youngest son Kevin and Brigitte, who’s now separated from Alain. The back story is complicated, but La Cigale’s approach is not: flavourful French classics served at (mostly) comparable prices.

Comparisons are inevitable, but La Cigale (which means “the cicada”) is most definitely not La Régalade. Nothing can match the latter’s distinct and warm atmosphere, complete with meals served in heavy, colourful Le Creuset dishes. Here, in the former home of Bistrot Bistro, food comes on oversize white dishes, and the décor is pleasant, if not necessarily unique: a few different shades of grey on the flooring, chairs, and fabric banquettes, though the chandeliers made of empty, upside-down French wine bottles stand out. French music plays in the background, but not so loudly that the staff members and the chef can’t be heard talking to each other in their native French tongue.

The menu is always changing. (Note that what you see on the website isn’t necessarily what you’ll get on any given night.) And just as at La Régalade, each night has many specials, written up on a chalkboard the waiters transport from table to table. When we visited, features included coq au vin, duck confit, a rabbit dish, and a cheese and charcuterie plate, among others.

Although many of the dishes are taken straight from La Régalade’s extensive back catalogue (consider the beet salad, topped with shaved Parmesan and green onions in a light Dijon dressing, or the braised beef short ribs with peppercorn sauce), the young Rayé—he’s just 26—is still fine-tuning his skills. Fresh halibut, nestled on a bed of spinach, was ruinously overcooked. The highlight of that meal (the night’s most expensive) was a mound of baby potatoes served separately with a traditional French silver sauce boat containing a piquant, chunky tartar-style dressing.

Still, Rayé was trained by his celebrated and successful dad, after all, and in other dishes it showed. Unlike the halibut, the salmon Basquaise was perfectly cooked to medium- rare, attractive atop a succulent stew of red and yellow peppers, tomatoes, onion, and potato, seasoned with thyme and paprika.

That main was one of the choices on the restaurant’s ever-changing three-course prix fixe menu ($30); another was the aforementioned short ribs. Granted, braising beef in red wine and then slow-cooking it isn’t exactly difficult, but with its tender, slender carrots and punchy, peppery sauce, Rayé nails this dish. Seafood vol-au-vent, with salmon, scallops, and halibut in delicate puff pastry, comes with a velvety lobster-bisque-style sauce. Rich and decadent, it’s worth kicking the Wheat Belly diet to the curb for.

Like the mains, the desserts are of ample size and can easily be shared. (They’re pricey, too, with two of them costing $9.25 each.) La Cigale revives some classic French tableside service here, with deeply flavourful, fluffy chocolate mousse being served out of a giant silver bowl, and the amiable Brigitte herself presenting the Well of Love: rice pudding studded with almonds served in a cognac glass topped with a chocolate wafer, over which she pours hot caramel sauce. The sauce melts a hole in the wafer, then makes its way, lavalike, to the pudding. It’s a delicious showstopper.

There are problems. A full baguette with tapenade as an appetizer needs more than a mere thimbleful of black-olive spread. The French-press coffee and a cup of black tea ($4 each) were both barely lukewarm. Then there were the waiter’s gaffes. Despite having a lovely accent as rich as Brie, he was seriously lacking in knowledge of the menu items throughout the evening. The worst proof? When asked where La Cigale sources its crusty French bread, he answered “Costco”. In fact, the baguettes are made fresh daily by Olivier Audibert, who owns Les Croissants d’Olivier in Port Coquitlam, a follow-up query to Brigitte clarified.

Dinner for five, including a $45 bottle of Pfaffenheim Pinot Gris, came to $230 before taxes and tip.

La Cigale hosts an intriguing monthly event called the Secret Science Café, in which scientists explain their work over lunch. And on Tuesdays, there’s no corkage fee when you bring your own bottle.

Kinks aside, if you’re craving Paris in springtime, you’d do well to swoop into La Cigale for a taste.