The French Place

As promised, here I am to tell you more about "the French place."

My mom and I learned about this place from a friend. She simply called it "the French place." We had never heard of it. We learned why when we first visited it. The restaurant actually has a very fancy French name that I would love to be able to say without feeling like a hick. Alas, I cannot, so it will forever be "the French place."

From the outside, you wouldn't dream of the wondrous food produced inside. It is a converted house, set in a tiny gravel parking lot, on a backroad near some ugly factory. Stepping inside isn’t much better, either.  The place is tiny, miniscule even.  It seats maybe twenty inside with about ten more seats outside. 

However, upon stepping inside, you will see a glass case full of handmade, from scratch pastries and desserts including creme brulees, napoleons, rum balls, tiramisus, strawberry shortcakes, and many more.  The owner of the restaurant is actually French, with a French accent and everything.  Also, from what I can tell, the entire staff is French or can at least speak French.

After fighting for a place to sit, a world of tastiness opens up.  To try to tell you all of the items on the menu would be ridiculous, so here are my favorites.

For breakfast: get the Belgian waffle.  This is not just some dry, cardboard-esque thing like you might get at other places.  No, this waffle is like a piece of the clouds.  Mine was served with strawberries, whipped cream, and powdered sugar.  I’m pretty sure I put syrup on mine as well, but please don’t tell anyone about my gluttony.  Try this with the hashbrowns and you’ll be in heaven. 

For lunch: veggie panini and the hashbrowns.  You might say, “Hey, lady, you already had the hashbrowns for breakfast.”  And you would be right, but let me just clue you in on these lovelies.  They are not simply pan-fried potatoes.  They have green onion and herbs cooked inside them that amp up that oh-so-comforting potato.  They are then presented in a neat, round serving.  Just talking about it makes me want to drive the two hours from the university back to my hometown simply to eat those hashbrowns.  Then there is the veggie panini.  The bread melts in your mouth.  The veggies taste like butter.  The cheese is like some more butter.  Even the oil they cook all this in is good, and I never call oil good.  (I’d much rather cook with melted butter.)  It is perfection on a plate, and I would sell my kidney for a lifetime supply of these sandwiches.

Though I haven’t tried it (remember, vegetarian), the chicken pot pie looks like a work of art.  The pastry on top is puffed up to there, and the smell makes me go cross-eyed.

Another goody to try: quiche lorraine (get it just for the crust at the very least),

Want to know the name of this little gem?  Think you already know it?  Show me some love, and maybe I will let you in on it.