C’est la Vie a Tasteful Serving of French Fare

Back in the 1970s, a whole generation of nascent foodies cut its teeth on places like Oceanside’s C’est la Vie.

For every balding, incrementally bepaunched yuppie of today, there was a college town bistro named C’est la Vie, or Cafe Francaise, or Cafe de la Paix, or Au Pied de Cochon (that one was on Wisconsin Avenue in Washington) or something equally suggestive of les grandes boulevards and all things flavorfully Frenchified.

These cafes not only implanted an appreciation of such treats as pate and chocolate mousse--items that many of us now coldly shoulder as pitifully tres ordinaire --but taught us how to blithely pronounce such tongue twisters as ratatouille and croissant.

Frozen in time almost as perfectly as a parfait, C’est la Vie fits the American cafe mode in a way unrivaled in these parts. The menu starts with seafood “St. Jacques” (creamed, sprinkled with cheese and run under the broiler), runs on to escargot, onion soup gratinee , variously filled crepes and omelets (either of these can be had stuffed with ratatouille), numerous simple sautes and, of course, a starter plate of pate and Brie.

The pastries on the tray are French in inspiration rather than execution, and have size as a principal virtue. If you’re still hungry at the end of a meal, a slice of the gargantuan mousse cake or the carelessly composed strawberry tart should complete the job of filling you to the brim.

The decor seems almost definitive for this style of place, and is appropriately busy; mirrors visually expand the small rooms, which is a good thing, since umbrellas hang from the ceilings and greenery climbs in the corners. The net effect, at least on a busy night, is crowded, noisy and cheerful. Just-arrived guests have a near view of what their neighbors are eating, and some of it looks pretty good.

Meals include individual loaves of freshly baked bread (crusty, and surprisingly light) and a salad, which for many obviates the need of a starter. The hors d’oeuvre list is in any case brief, and in addition to pate, snails and the seafood St. Jacques includes a dish of sauteed mushrooms or a tout americain shrimp cocktail.

The onion soup fills the bill quite nicely if you do happen to want something hot in advance. The kitchen presumably has turned out thousands of gallons over the years, and it knows how to cook the onions until soft and gilded--these two conditions are essential--and then immerse them in a full-bodied brown stock.

Dressed with cheese and run under the broiler just long enough to make the latter melt, this soup is quite satisfying. The salad, a rather basic plate of lettuce unmarked by any special additions, does benefit from the mix of herbs in the creamy dressing.

The entree selection begins with the simplicity of a vegetable plate and continues with the sort of dishes expected in a cafe, such as pepper steak, beef filet with sauce bearnaise, calves liver bordelaise (at C’est la Vie, this definition encompasses brown sauce and a garnish of onions and bacon), veal scallops with mushrooms and Sherry, pork tenderloin Robert (a classic, the brown sauce tinged with mustard), poached salmon, duck Cumberland with red currant sauce, and the poulet maison , or house chicken, in this case sauteed with mushrooms and wine. Because this is Southern California, there also is the dish known locally as shrimp scampi, and, for the same reason, a combo of shrimp with filet mignon.

A good French saute--meat, mushrooms and sometimes other vegetables, slowly cooked together until fork-tender, melting in a wine-rich sauce--is a thing of joy.

C’est la Vie turns out an unusual but rather good cross between boeuf bourguignon and Stroganoff that it gives the latter name, although the sauce includes red wine (beef Stroganoff properly would be made with white wine). But the dish meets all the requirements of Stroganoff, and the sour cream spooned over the top can be mixed in to taste for a softer, richer effect.

But not everything comes off perfectly. The veal Marengo offered as one evening’s special was over-sauced, under-seasoned and indelicate. In this treatment, the meat may as well have been beef, since the flavor and texture of the veal was vanquished by the gummy sauce.

On the lighter side, the menu offers composed salads, a number of sandwiches and a hamburger called the “French disaster,” which covers an open-face half-pounder with tomato sauce, vegetables and melted cheese. It sounds gooey but good.

C’est la Vie

2633 Vista Way, Oceanside

Calls: 721-3600

Hours: Lunch and dinner daily

Cost: Prices vary considerably; quiches, sandwiches and entrees $5.95 to $18.95.