French in Winter Park Area

Curbside pickup 5-8 p.m.

The stylish mural outside Chez Vincent looks worthy of a cover of Vanity Fair from the 1930s. A lady and gentleman, in profile, sip from the same glass of wine and hint at what awaits within: seductive French cuisine in a casual, cosmopolitan atmosphere. Just weeks old, Chez Vincent is a shining new arrival on the spiffed-up streetscape in a happening enclave two blocks west of Park Avenue in Winter Park, and it promises to become a contender among the finest local restaurants.

The smart interior – done in olives, taupes and creams – was conceived and executed by chef/co-owner Vincent Gagliano, formerly of Cafe de France. With just 15 tables, Chez Vincent is a restful oasis for a midday meal of hors d'oeuvres, soups and salads, or an elegant dinner with entrees that include Gulf shrimp sautéed in cream dill sauce ($18.50) and venison with sun-dried cherries in port wine sauce ($22.95). There's also an ample wine list, with 13 varieties served by the glass.

The smart interior – done in olives, taupes and creams – was conceived and executed by chef/co-owner Vincent Gagliano, formerly of Cafe de France. With just 15 tables, Chez Vincent is a restful oasis for a midday meal of hors d'oeuvres, soups and salads, or an elegant dinner with entrees that include Gulf shrimp sautéed in cream dill sauce ($18.50) and venison with sun-dried cherries in port wine sauce ($22.95). There's also an ample wine list, with 13 varieties served by the glass.

We were impressed with feuillettè d´escargots au porto, ($7.50), a crisp triangular puff pastry stuffed with dark, fleshy, sautéed snails and fortified by a sweet port wine sauce. The soupe du jour, vegetable ($3.95), was remarkable mainly for its excellent broth that had been simmering for several days, we were told, to enhance flavors of veal, leeks, thyme and carrots. Entrees are preceded by house salads, but I recommend upgrading to the unforgettable goat cheese salad, served warm with roasted pumpkin seeds over mixed baby greens ($2.65).

We were impressed with feuillettè d´escargots au porto, ($7.50), a crisp triangular puff pastry stuffed with dark, fleshy, sautéed snails and fortified by a sweet port wine sauce. The soupe du jour, vegetable ($3.95), was remarkable mainly for its excellent broth that had been simmering for several days, we were told, to enhance flavors of veal, leeks, thyme and carrots. Entrees are preceded by house salads, but I recommend upgrading to the unforgettable goat cheese salad, served warm with roasted pumpkin seeds over mixed baby greens ($2.65).

Among everything we ordered, the most outstanding was rack of lamb with blue cheese sauce ($21.50). Superbly tender, juicy portions of the rib were carved into chops and criss-crossed along the plate. A still life of sweet baby carrots and snow peas were arranged around the border, with a single rosette fashioned out of roasted apple skins. My guest enjoyed paupiette de poulet à la moutarde ($16.95), a boneless chicken breast pounded flat and rolled around an aromatic mixture of shiitake mushrooms, bell peppers and Swiss cheese, with a country Dijon sauce.

Among everything we ordered, the most outstanding was rack of lamb with blue cheese sauce ($21.50). Superbly tender, juicy portions of the rib were carved into chops and criss-crossed along the plate. A still life of sweet baby carrots and snow peas were arranged around the border, with a single rosette fashioned out of roasted apple skins. My guest enjoyed paupiette de poulet à la moutarde ($16.95), a boneless chicken breast pounded flat and rolled around an aromatic mixture of shiitake mushrooms, bell peppers and Swiss cheese, with a country Dijon sauce.

For dessert, chilled Grand Marnier soufflé ($5.25) stood tall on a small plate, creamy with undertones of citrus. I appreciated the flavors more fully after waiting a bit for it to warm up. Bavarios de chocolate ($4.95) consisted of chocolate and raspberry mousse layers, surrounded by a pool of mango coulis.

Downtown's newest lunch-on- the-run option is black and white and sweet all over. Parked on the corner of Central Boulevard and Court Street from 11 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Monday through Friday, the striped-canopied Crepe Company cart is a quick source of street food en français, made right in front of you. Friendly pâtissières (decked out in faintly silly French-maidish lace caps and aprons) pour batter onto a hot griddle and fill it with your choice of savory or sweet ingredients, then fold it up to go in a polka-dotted paper cone.

The front of the cart is lined with jars of Nutella, the French hazelnut-chocolate spread, so I was reassured as to the crepes' authenticity, at least on the dessert side of the equation, and I wasn't let down by the 'sweet heartsâ?� crepe: The creamy Nutella melted around perfectly ripe strawberries in a flawless blend of nature's sweetness and manmade sugariness. My savory choice, the 'club royaleâ?� (turkey, bacon, egg, tomato and avocado ' sort of a Cobb salad in a pancake) tasted fine, but fell to pieces when I picked it up. That's one thing about a street crepe: none of the usual sauces, because they'll run down your wrist. Go for something with cheese, which will melt and hold the crepe together.

Waits can be long, since everything is cooked à la minute. (Tip: Phone ahead to pre-order. Also good to know: Owner Traci Sihle just added post-bar hours, 10:30 p.m.-2:30 a.m. at 37 N. Orange Ave.) Sihle wants to keep prices low, so the crepes are $4-$5; only one hits the $6 mark. Sweet deal.

Creperies appear to be blossoming all over the city, be they comfortable restaurants like Pointe Orlando's La Creperia Café or humble food carts like downtown's Crepe Company. Winter Park's Green Lemon Café likely falls into the fast-casual category, but husband-and-wife owners Amanda and Rob Volence certainly don't foster a dine-and-dash mentality. Like the cooks, they're always up for a chat; during quieter moments, the original paintings hanging on the café's colorful walls beg for a closer examination and, if one's wallet allows, purchase. But unlike the art, the food served here won't break the bank ' most items hover around the $7 mark, offering affordability without sacrificing taste. A plus: Only Boar's Head meats are used in their savory crepes, salads, sandwiches and paninis ' a definite notch above the grade of meat offered a couple of doors down at Subway. And with the Whole Foods Market in the same shopping plaza, Green Lemon should, theoretically, have a steady base of customers filtering out of the grocery store's doors and into theirs.

In fact, a few happened to walk in the evening of my visit proclaiming ignorance of the café's existence, grabbing a few takeout menus, then enviously peering at the pesto-heavy chicken Florentine crepe ($7.50) I was so gleefully devouring. The thin-fried envelope packed a flavorful wallop with a proper proportion of chicken, spinach, onions, mushrooms and cheddar-jack. The turkey brie ($7) posed a lighter, more subtly flavored option, with green apple slices adding a mild sweetness. (They didn't skimp on the brie, either.) If you opt for the sizable 'black & bleuâ?� roast beef'and'blue cheese crepe ($7.50), the irony of the café being sandwiched between Marie-France and Omaha Steaks won't be lost. OK, it probably will, but that won't take away from the sandwich. I happened to glance at the turkey bacon panini ($7.25) one of the cooks was chomping down on during a break and it, too, looked worthy of ordering.

But when it comes to crepes, the pièces de rèsistance lie on the sweeter side of fried, so I was a little disappointed in the absence of my favorite ' crepes suzette ' from the selections listed on the menu. The fact they're not licensed to sell alcohol may have something to do with it, though that may change in the coming weeks. Until then, the Green Lemon crepe ($4), with lemon and sugar, is the closest thing, but you're better off going with a more filling option, and there are plenty. The Southern Comfort crepe ($5.50) is a viscous mélange of peanut butter, bananas and chocolate sauce, while the 'caramel delightâ?� ($4.50) can be made a seasonal delight with the addition of cinnamon apples for a buck extra. A separate 'dessert crepesâ?� category listed items that were entirely too rich and decadent for my tastes, but if you're the type that gets a kick out of Oreo crumbs or s'mores in your crepes, have at it.

There's a scene in Talladega Nights where Ricky Bobby gets his arm broken for refusing to utter the words, 'I love crepes.â?� After enjoying one here, you likely won't need your arm twisted. And if you don't, there's likely another one on Green Lemon's menu that'll squeeze the sentiment out of you.

There's a scene in Talladega Nights where Ricky Bobby gets his arm broken for refusing to utter the words, 'I love crepes.â?� After enjoying one here, you likely won't need your arm twisted. And if you don't, there's likely another one on Green Lemon's menu that'll squeeze the sentiment out of you.