The ramshackle room, narrow as a railway car, remains its endearing self, with tight-packed tables and enough beards to meet Parkdale bylaws. Chef Jesse Mutch has replaced Jonathan Poon’s Asian experimentalism with a menu that wouldn’t look out of place on the Left Bank. Mutch is a dab hand at the classics: piping-hot cheese puffs, springy snails, salty rounds of roasted tomatoes bathed in a mushroom and chive broth, and succulent duck wrapped in crêpes with its own gravy. His double-fried frites, as golden as a Trump hotel and dusted with a concoction of salt, sugar, fenugreek and cinnamon, are a city-wide champ. For dessert, there’s a perfectly tempting baked Alaska—though you’d do just as well to end with a brandy and vermouth cocktail tasting of cherries and long nights, called (what else?) a Marcel Marceau.