Few rooms on this side of the Atlantic are as blissfully, utterly French as Oliver Bonacini’s uptown stalwart. The music is Maurice Chevalier and company, and the haute-rustic main dining room, set deep in the cellar of an 1860s woodcutter’s cottage, is as romantic a setting as any city diner will find. Chef Jason Bangerter’s menu updates many of the classics with modern twists: Bangerter’s fricassee d’escargots wraps a heady mix of snails, brandy, thyme and dark mushrooms in savoy cabbage leaves, a presentation that’s beat only by the accompanying panko-crusted orb that releases a slurp-worthy mix of snails and brown butter when touched by a fork. The rest of the meal unfolds less impressively. Pigeonneau au jambon in particular—roast squab with ham—is two crimson slices of breast (neither of them particularly hot or flavourful) sided with a hash of sage, chopped ham and parsley root. One of the bird’s legs extends straight up from the plate, its claws curled as if straining to scratch the diner’s chin. House desserts aren’t as dramatic: a strawberry crêpe would be good if served hot. Smart service, plus a selection of wines to suit most budgets. Mains $36–$46.