Café Ca Va, a stylishly appointed room recessed from the sidewalk on Marine Drive and 18th Street in West Vancouver, is like a French culinary superhero: affable, mild-mannered bakery by day, swish, confident bistro by night.
After a recent dinner there, I, for one, will sleep easier knowing that Café Ca Va is tirelessly fighting the good fight to uphold bold, sophisticated flavours on behalf of eager palates everywhere. Godspeed, brave bistro, may your baguettes be ever crusty and your tables eternally full.
From 9 a.m. daily, Café Ca Va dishes up sweet and savoury crepes, fresh baked pastries and desserts, as well as soups and sandwiches. In the late afternoon, the restaurant closes briefly to prepare for its evening service, emerging at 5:30 p.m. donning a cape and mask, ready to chase away dull, bland and insipid foods, the scourge of any city’s dining scene.
I entered the café just after 7 p.m. and had my choice of seats.
The restaurant boasts a beautifully designed interior with marble-topped tables, Parisian blue-and-white bistro chairs, and chandeliers that contribute to the room’s moody, sultry atmosphere.
At the far end of the dining room, two large-screen televisions, which bookend a giant mounted puzzle of Napoleon Bonaparte, are encased in classic gallery frames and showcase still images and short vignettes of French landscapes, from yellowed wartime photos of Normandy to the Pont de L’Archeveche over the Seine.
For once, I welcomed televisions in an elegant dining room; the sharpness and beauty of the imagery they projected enhanced, rather than detracted from, the thoughtful decor.
Service was swift and friendly, efficient but never rushed. As I reviewed the menu, a loving tribute to the many iconic dishes that have helped thoroughly install French cuisine in our collective global consciousness, I sipped a stiff pour of Ricard Pastis, the potent anise distillate that turns cloudy when you add water.
The menu presented a genuine struggle for me. Jam-packed with so many dishes I hold near and dear, I fought the urge to pull a passerby from the sidewalk out front to join me in sampling one of everything.
In the end, with the helpful advice of my server, I selected just three dishes, forfeiting the enjoyment of confit duck, Oyama chicken sausage coq au vin, slow braised beef brisket, ratatouille, onion soup, and Nicoise salad on this occasion.
My meal began with a rustic and hearty terrine of pork and foie gras served with a host of delectable house-made pickles. Three meaty medallions of terrine-topped rounds of crispy brioche. A tangy and fragrant pear chutney, along with artful dollops of grainy mustard, provided good support for the rich terrine, while pickled beets and carrots supplied excellent textural complexity.
The foie gras content of the terrine was minimal, though not detrimentally so, and so my request for a small glass of Sauternes (the legendary sweet semillon and sauvignon blanc wine of Bordeaux that is a classic pairing for foie) turned out to be a miscalculation on my part; a fragrant dry white or light red would have married better with the predominant pork flavour of the terrine.
Still, it is hardly a burden to consume a glass of stunning Sauternes and I greatly appreciated the server’s willingness to provide it for me, given that it is not listed by the glass on the wine list.
Alongside the terrine, I enjoyed a generous appetizer of mixed olives, served warm and topped with a subtle garnish of lemon zest and chili flakes.
For my main course, I opted for one of the all-time greatest bistro dishes ever conceived: moules frites, or mussels with fries.
Anyone who eats mussels with any regularity will agree that no matter how fresh the seafood, there is more often than not at least one rogue mussel in every order that is marked by a pungent and off-putting skunkiness that makes one approach subsequent morsels with trepidation.
Not so with Café Ca Va’s outstanding preparation, which featured 19 (yes, I counted) exceptionally fresh, toothsome mussels in a lemon cream broth.
Polishing off the mussels in short order, I dumped the thin and crispy fries into the remaining broth, a thick and garlicky, mildly tart and deftly spiced creation, and cleaned my plate with the help of the spoon that was considerately provided by my server. A pint of Pilsner was an ideal accompaniment to the dish.
It is worth noting that my visit actually marked my third attempt to dine at Café Ca Va; their evening hours of operation are . . . fluid, let’s say, and I twice found myself standing at their front door welcomed only by a closed sign. It is best to call ahead.
While late-week customer volumes presumably keep the restaurant open later, dinner reservations will surely avert disappointment.
My meal of two appetizers, a main and a beverage to accompany each course, was $72 before gratuity.
Café Ca Va is located at 1860 Marine Dr. in West Vancouver. cafecava.com
Chris Dagenais served as a manager for several restaurants downtown and on the North Shore. A self-described wine fanatic, he earned his sommelier diploma in 2001. Contact: [email protected].
