Don't Look for the Sign Out Front, You Might Miss La Petite Maison

At nearly 5p.m. on a sunny mid-May afternoon, just as Berwyn’s is closing down for the day, its counterpart, La Petite Maison, is just getting started. The recently opened Berwyn byob (in the former Berwyn Coffee Co. space) is the latest addition to Chef Maurice de Ramus’ restaurant portfolio including Ardmore’s A la Maison, Philadelphia’s Zen and Cherry Hill’s Onasis.

My friend and I arrived early for our 5:30p.m. reservation. The word “earlybird” doesn’t even cover it, but with traffic being what it is, it’s always better safe then sorry. We pulled up to a wisteria covered fence parked in the building’s rear parking lot.

Without previous knowledge of its existence and nothing to alert a hungry commuter (such as myself) to its presence, locals passing the Lancaster Avenue eatery might not even know it was there. The only signage is for its tea-toting other half.

We entered through the rear of the building, passing the aforementioned tea shop’s counter and were directed to the restaurant’s half of the shared space; La Petite Maison, a quaint sun-lit eatery that seems to be a sort of a satellite location to its better known elder, A la Maison.

We were greeted by our server, Alexander. Between his charming French accent and the subtle smells coming from the kitchen I was instantly overcome with a sense of positive enthusiasm. This would be the perfect setting for a romantic dinner, a quick after-work bite or even to take over with a larger private party.

Being the only guests of the evening, we were allowed to choose whichever seat we liked and chose a table for two perched in the windows, allowing for a view of Lancaster Avenue.

Alexander opened our wine.

“La fat bas-tard,” he read with a smile.

Pouring our first few sips and filling our water, Alexander was friendly and informative, politely commenting on his take on French wines as well as the choice we had selected.

Having skipped lunch in anticipation of my dinner, I was famished, so my guest and I requested some bread. We were told the chef had gone out to get some, and hopefully he would be back shortly. Since we were an entirely too early for our reservation, it was an understandable hold up. We sat, sipping our wine, waiting patiently and taking in the scene.

Nine tables, draped in white tablecloths, were set cleanly. Only the basics: silverware, napkins and wineglasses. Its large street facing windows, skylight and ripe cantaloupe colored walls made the room feel warm and inviting yet with the exception of an interesting book exchange on the far wall, the space seemed to be missing any sort of décor. Empty hooks nailed longed for their framed partners. Maybe a fresh coat of paint was to blame for the conspicuously absent artwork, but I smelled no such fresh-paint-proof.

Though it was great to unwind for a moment with nothing but my thoughts, the silence in the room was deafening, due to what we were told was a radio malfunction just that day.

The restaurant was actually reopening after being closed during the prior week, explained our server. As restaurants go, starting up again after being closed for a week is never a smooth transition and the bumps were obviously frustrating to our apologetic server.

Finally, the bread came out. Our server placed it on the table with a square of butter.  It was just chewy enough to know that it wasn’t today’s batch.

Menus came and we were quickly instructed about the items that were not available that night, including the French onion soup, which I had been looking forward to even though the spring weather didn’t particularly call for it. Also missing from the menu was the Terrine, the duck leg that was to be replaced with duck breast and a cauliflower puree that would be replaced with potato. And with that, we were politely left to decide.

The appetizers included east and west coast oysters served by the piece or the half-dozen, Burgundy snails and mussels with prices ranging from $2.50 for the oysters - $14 for the mussels. Salads options included a butterleaf lettuce, roasted beets or the frisee with prices ranging from $11 - $14. Entrees range from $27 - 42 and include a handful of seafood dishes like skate, trout, branzino, salmon and scallops. Carnivorous options included the duck breast, a braised shortrib dish, a filet mignon and a NY strip steak.

The fondue section of the menu looked enticing, with prices set depending on the size of the party (2-3 persons $28, 4-6 persons $40). There were additional sides that could be added on to the order, including apples, fingerling potatoes, chicken fingers, kielbasa, air-dried beef or beef tips ranging from $3 - $10.

Looking over the menu, we chose the dishes we felt were most inspired hoping that they would give the best representation of what La Petite Masion had to offer. We decided on the Burgundy snails with mushrooms, herbs and croutons ($12) and the Frisee lettuce with blue cheese, bacon lardoons and a poached egg ($14) to start, but were torn when it came to the entrée we planned to share.

My persistent questioning when it came to the fondue offerings were met with a let-down when Alexander informed us that in the month that La Petit Maison had been open, they hadn’t actually served any fondue and didn’t actually have the pot on premises. His best suggestion was to call for a reservation, request the fondue and let the chef know how many would be in the party.

With this turn of events, we asked for an entrée suggestion. The filet and the scallops were our server’s favorites. We went with the scallops; Coquilles St. Jacques with honshimeji mushrooms, crème spinach and a shallot buerre blanc ($28); and we threw in a side of frites ($7), just because.

Our appetizers came out quickly. The snails arrived alongside a plate of toasted crustini. The tiny crustacions were served with mushrooms, cut in exactly the same proportion and interestingly enough, had exactly the same chewy texture, both swimming in a tasty garlic butter. The crustini came in handy, to say the least.

The frisee was nice and fresh, served with chunky blue cheese. The bacon lardoons were thickly cut and a perfect salty addition to the just-runny-enough poached egg.

Next came our side of frites; shoestring fries served solo and the scallop entrée; which the chef kindly split, giving us each an order of two. The large sea scallops were served atop a bed of spinach, surrounded by a tasty shallot buerre blanc that was studded with familiar looking / tasting mushrooms and topped with the familiar frisee.

The dish looked delicious and generally was. But my first forkful of scallop revealed a cheesy surprise – Swiss to be exact. It seemed, that after searing the little bi-valve, the chef had covered them with cheese that was then melted and browned.

I peeled off the cheese to reveal a perfectly cooked scallop. The dish would have been fantastic had it not been for what seemed like a cheesy afterthought. Why someone would cover a perfectly seared scallop in Swiss cheese is beyond me. Next time, leave that poor scallop alone!

After our meals, my friend and I requested a dessert menu, and were given the rundown orally. We decided on the Profiterole ($8) and a French press of coffee to share ($4).Our dessert, enough for a larger party, came out with four puffed pastries split and filled with cool ice cream, topped with a tasty vanilla crème anglaise and finished off with melted bittersweet chocolate.

Finishing three of the four, as well as our coffee, the check came out at around $78. Being a former server, I rounded up, and gave a generous tip. The cost, at under $100 was an absolute plus. And though my friend and I decided to share, the portion sizes were more than appropriate for two.

The service was wonderful and with the exception of a handful of missing, unseasonal or surprisingly cheese-covered items, the dishes we chose were well done. It may not be the place for the snottiest of foodies, but for a neighborhood restaurant, I felt it was approachable. A sign alerting the neighbors to the existence of Chef Ramus’ satellite location may bring the crowds needed to keep this hidden French byo afloat.