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Choucroute garnie (sauerkraut) with wiener sausage, housemade pork sausage, smoked pork belly and pork loin.Della Rollins for The Globe and Mail

Ask me which French food I like the best. Of the many regions of France, I could say something positive – and salivate – about the food of most. Paris and the central plain! Lyons! Butterfat and the elaborate creations of the great chefs from Carême and Brillat-Savarin to Georges Blanc and Paul Bocuse. The southwest! Foie gras! The southeast: Lamb grazed on rosemary, the tomato-inflected cross-border delights that reflect more than a century of back-and-forth Italian and French ownership of that area. Brittany and Normandy: Spectacular shellfish, apples and creamy cheeses.

And then there's Alsace-Lorraine, on northeastern France's border with Germany and Switzerland. Sausages anybody? Sauerkraut? Spaetzle? Not exactly the stuff of which a Francophile's food fantasies are made.

But what's a chef to do if he's Alsatian? Gregory Furstoss has been a sous for Marc Thuet in his bistro and bakery, and more recently at Senses. When he found the sweet little place to rent on Baldwin Street's restaurant row, he went back to his roots. Though some might argue that working for Marc Thuet, king of the carnivores, wasn't so far from home: Thuet is also Alsatian (although his culinary oeuvre demonstrates a geographic reach beyond Alsace).

Mr. Furstoss's new bistro, Elle M'a Dit, opened in late summer. What better time to be on Baldwin Street, with so many restaurants cheek by jowl, most with sweet little patios under a canopy of mature trees, tiny lights strung through them. Elle M'a Dit is pleasant inside and out, although at this time of year, the patio has more charm. It's French folksy, with thick pine benches and teak tables lit by candles in small Mason jars.

As for the food, the citizens of Ossington who are forever lining up for hours at Pizzeria Libretto would do well to wander over to Baldwin Street for tarte flambée, Alsace's answer to pizza. Elle M'a Dit's version is cracker-thin crispy crust, cooked hot and fast enough to have a lightly charred underside. Toppings are restrained enough not to render the crust soggy or flaccid; traditional Alsatian is bacon, onion, white and gruyere cheeses. Splendid. Equally delightful are iconoclastic toppings like sweet pea with chevre, mint and just enough pecorino for a salty bite.

But woe is the service. Our server tells us after we've ordered that the menu is "tapas style." Alsatian tapas? Gimme a break. We're also not too sure how cold corn soup with dilled yogurt and fried clam is Alsatian. Authentic or not, the soup is too thick, very creamy but low on flavour, the fried clams overcooked. Nice potato and thin-sliced radish garnish. That's Alsatian. As is the marvellous hand-chopped and hence nicely chewy bison tartare, which is hot and mustardy, yet creamy. Our server does not trouble herself to explain the contents of the charcuterie platter. But we figure it out. There is tasteless pâté, very smoky raw duck breast, fabulous salami, flavourful pork rillettes that are not too fatty, and Thuet toasts.

Of the eight mains, there's one fish. Gotta have something for the non-carnivores. The seared snapper is well cooked but unexciting, topped with something they call "summer ratatouille" and I call salad.

Among meat mains, there is much more to celebrate. Baeckeoffe (meaning "baker's oven" in Alsatian dialect) is slow-cooked casserole of marinated beef, lamb and pork. In Alsace it used to be prepped Saturday night and left to bake in the bread baker's oven on Sunday whilst the wives went to church. This baeckeoffe is superbly tender meat with a scalloped potato roof to seal in the juices. Clever.

The coq au vin needs salt but is blessed with robust gravy, properly delicate spaetzle and portobello mushrooms. Perhaps the absence of salt in the coq prefigures the absence of salty bite in the sauerkraut dish. Cabbage pickled in brine develops bite. Add some meats (often lightly cured) and it's choucroute garnie … or sauerkraut. Call it what you like, but it better have bite. Otherwise it's just braised cabbage. Like this. The plethora of meat is beyond reproach – tender pork loin and pork belly, good (though not great) sausage. Perfectly cooked potatoes. But no tang to the cabbage is no fun.

It takes forever for desserts to arrive but they are shockingly wonderful. Dulce de leche mousse is fabulously light and cleverly lightened with fresh strawberry crumble. Chocolate terrine is dense and velvety with lightly cooked plums and whipped cream. Only the apple tart disappoints: The flatbread they use for appetizers has been topped with cinnamon-dusted apple slices and baked. Is this really from the country that gave us tarte tatin? But creamed lemon curd with a dollop of fresh sweet cheese (also creamed) and blueberry compote scattered with tiny crispy crunchy gingersnap cubes is a French dreamboat dessert.

Vive la France – when it works.





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