The last time I ate lunch here, solo, I bonded with a woman d'une certaine age who was feasting on a croque Monsieur, like a grilled ham and cheese with a Bechamel sauce exterior, and she summed up her attraction to the restaurant succinctly. "I come here for the view," she told me, referring to the virile, French-speaking waiters. "They're young, they are French and they are male," she said.
Normally, I turn and walk away when I open a restaurant door and see a glass tabletop, but in this case, I'm glad I stuck around. At least no one has ever squeegeed a table in here while I was eating, which is more than I can say for a number of places that are clustered around Chinatown Plaza. But even if that happened, I could retreat to the restaurant's sunny outdoor patio, furnished with umbrellas, facing traffic on Sunset Road.
The menu is simple and straightforward. When you enter, you'll see a specials board, usually handwritten, with the soup du jour, a hearty cream of potato, for instance, or the deliciously velvety cream of broccoli the restaurant serves sometimes.
There is a nicely beefy French onion soup from the menu, finished with a Gruyere cheese hat. There are fine salads on the lunch menu, one of the best being a warm goat-cheese number crafted from a mélange of lettuce, walnuts, sun-dried tomatoes, black olives and goat-cheese croutons. The chef also does a mean Cobb, served in tall, tower style, redolent of bacon and yellow onions.
One of the waiters in here calls me jeun homme, French for "young man," and since I am old enough to be his father, I am flattered. He's the guy who suggested I try delice de dinde, your basic turkey sandwich on a baguette with Dijon mustard. I've been back for it several times since.
Not everything in here is perfect. They gum up a perfectly good quiche during lunch, for instance, by slathering it with a layer of runny goat cheese, and although the salad on the side is just fine, the dish falls flat. Better, when it is on special, is a leek quiche, with a touch of leek sauce on the same eggy slice of quiche.
What I really come here for, though, are the hot entrees, delicious peasant food that is far too simple to get in a Strip French venue. Take coq au vin, for example, a classic dish from Burgundy that is made with an old rooster (because they are more flavorful) that is simmered for hours in Burgundy wine.
You can't, of course, get a rooster in Vegas, so Ambiance uses chicken, but the dish is wonderful, tender meat in a rich sauce laced with carrots, onion and mushrooms astride a pile of penne pasta. Beef Marengo is named for a Napoleonic battle, but this, too, turns out to be a triumph of slow cooking, chunks of tender beef in a rich sauce ladled on to a disc of polenta. Even pork loin charcutiere will win your heart. It's your basic pile of tender, sliced pork, topped with a creamy mustard sauce.
Side dishes are also quite good. Ask for and ye shall receive gratin dauphinois, one of the best potato gratin dishes you will ever taste. The chef also does a nice job with zucchini, ravioli, and several other accompaniments.
Saving room for dessert is a good idea. First, however, have that very French cup of espresso, like the guys at the bar are having, and then choose something from the glass pastry case that dominates the scene.
Perfectly round, nicely glazed tartes packed with an almond frangipane cream and a layer of fruit are superb, especially ones made with apricot or pear. Naturally, a crème brulee stands out here, as does a chocolate walnut cake and a double-chocolate torte that is too rich too finish.
Come for that 11 a.m. breakfast, and you can partake of the flaky croissants, brioche and cinnamon rolls. I wonder where these guys are going to go when they can't have that Gauloise with their demitasse.