Like any large North American city, Vancouver has its share of French restaurants. One of the most authentic is the little Salade de Fruits at the Vancouver Francophone Centre. Invariably crowded, tables squashed slightly too closely together, the menu on a chalkboard, bits of Gallic ephemera scattered around, it feels like the real thing. You can speak French or English, whichever you want.
Yesterday, two of us had big omelettes stuffed with tomatoes and Brie, cooked baveuse. Little pots of mayonnaise came with the huge mounds of frites served on the side. Salade was the other option but not one we seriously considered.