Cafe Petite Chou

"Go outside?" has an electric effect on a dog. Barking, squeaking, jumping at the door, prancing, whimpering, begging, straining at the leash. I have pretty much the same reaction to "French bistro?" So imagine my unbridled delight when I discovered that the menu at Café Petite Chou was not going to be another version of the Patachou menu, only in Broad Ripple. Mais non! This menu has French words! Les mots francais! Words like Croque Monsieur and Salade de Lardons. Words I know. Words I've never seen on a menu in Indianapolis.

But let's start with the setting. I have a fondness for outdoor cafes, even if they are technically in a parking lot. And this one is quaint, with some thought (and cash) put into the tables, chairs, and umbrellas. My esteemed colleague and I started with a Potage Saint Germain (a classic pea soup, this one has basil) and the soup of the day, a tomato artichoke bisque. The bisque was heavenly, light and filling at the same time. The crouton floating on top was a little tough to eat, though. Bread meant to be eaten with a spoon either needs to be smaller or softer.

Our entrees arrived and the swooning got started in earnest. My Salade de Lardons was not so much about lardons (which is pork belly that's been diced, blanched and fried) as "salad with bacon and a sort-of-poached egg on top," but what's not to like about that? The Croque Monsieur, though, was superbe, if a bit thick by actual French standards. Creamy ¬ and not too heavy – sauce, proper ham (not "ham product"), good bread. If you can take it, they'll put a fried egg on top and call it Croque Madame. And none of the greens, either on the side of the sandwich or those in the salad, needed to be wrung of their dressing before eating.

I couldn't leave without trying a crepe. I've had crepes in Brittany, I've had crepes in New Orleans, I've had crepes in my kitchen, I've had crepes made by a French woman in a closet in Key West. I'm a big fan. And I prefer the classics. Like many bread things, if it requires a lot of stuff to make it good, it probably isn't a good bread thing. So I ordered a plain crepe with a sprinkling of vanilla sugar to finish off the last of my jasmine tea. It was light, yet firm, not too sweet, not too brown, not too raw. Someone in the kitchen knows how to make a damn crepe.

Then brunch was all over. I tried dragging my feet, I tried going to the bathroom really slowly several times, I tried starting conversations with fellow diners, I even tried the soulful eyes.....