From: Newsday, Friday, June 15, 2001
By: Joan Reminick

BISTRO CASSIS 55B Wall St. Huntington 631-421-4122

WHY: Friendly Franco-American.

WHEN: Lunch, Monday to Friday, noon to 3 p.m.; dinner, Monday to Saturday, 5 to 10 p.m. and Sunday, 5 to 9 p.m.; brunch, Sunday, noon to 3 p.m.

HOW MUCH: Appetizers, $4 to $12; entrees, $16 to $20; sandwiches, $8 to $9; desserts, $7.

WHEELCHAIR ACCESS: Tables too close for easy access; rest rooms equipped.

FRENCH BISTROS ARE so au courant these days. In Huntington alone, three have opened within the past year. Bistro Cassis, with its sunny yellow walls, marble-topped tables and properly aproned waitstaff, manages to seem authentically Gallic while bending a few rules. Apparently, the kitchen's unorthodoxy doesn't faze the waiting crowds that spill out into the street on weekend evenings.

After you order, your server places a slice of baguette on your bread dish and replaces it when necessary. A finicky friend thought that any restaurant with mussels on its menu should offer a breadbasket, but to me, that was a minor quibble. What mattered were those mussels, plump and plentiful, which arrived in a domed copper pot; we had them Provencale-style, in a garlic-infused basil and tomato broth, and they were marvelous. Far less appealing was a caramelized onion tart with goat cheese, tomatoes and black olives; the sweetness of the dessert-like pastry competed with the sweetness of the onion. But you could hardly do better than the bistro's version of the classic salade frisee aux lardons, studded with thick chunks of bacon and topped with a soft boiled egg, which, when broken, oozed mellow warmth.

Another salad, enjoyed at lunch, featured sauteed shrimp over warm spinach with a heady orange and caper dressing. Surprisingly good was a grilled chicken sandwich with caramelized onions and melted cheese on a superior roll. An old-fashioned crepe filled with creamed chicken and spinach was comforting, if not remarkable.

More notable was the expertly sauteed salmon, served at dinner with little napa cabbage bundles paired with a piquant horseradish cream and delicious sliced boiled potatoes. Duck a l'orange was prettily plated, the breast fanned out in slices, the leg served as a confit, the orange sauce neither too sweet nor too citric. And while the coq au vin was not the time-honored stewed-in-wine version, it was, if viewed simply as roasted chicken in a savory wine sauce, a nice dish. Gallic tradition was upheld by the steak frites, a simple, rare-as-ordered slab of beef topped with herbed butter and served with crisp French fried potato sticks.

For dessert, gateau moka was a layered affair along the lines of tiramisu, coated with the kind of hard, dark chocolate icing you'd expect to find in a French patisserie. Tarte tatin, though, was a letdown; the cobbled-together phyllo dough, hot apples, caramel and whipped cream was nothing remotely resembling the caramelized upside-down tart a Frenchman would expect. But crème brûlée was the real deal, crackly on top, creamy beneath.

If some of your memories of Paris, like mine, include rude waiters and smoke-filled rooms, you might not give a fig about the French authenticity of this pretty and reasonably priced little bistro. A bit too American for the streets of Paris, it is very much at home on Huntington's Wall Street.

From: The New York Times, Sunday, April 22, 2001
By: Richard Jay Scholem

Years ago Italy beat France in the Long Island restaurant wars. Formal, expensive French restaurants serving rich, complex sauces were out of sync with the widespread desire for moderately priced, healthful, casual dining.

Recently, the French have come storming back, not with high-priced haute cuisine, but with the Gallic soul food, served at bistros and brasseries. A brasserie opened there in December and last month, Cassis, a bistro-style restaurant, at 55B Wall Street (631-421-4122), made its debut.

Although its owners are of Italian lineage and its cordon bleu-trained chefs are from Brazil, Cassis is probably the most authentically French restaurant in the new bloomlet. Its menu reads like a bistro and brasserie hall of fame, with its salade frisée aux lardons, salad niçoise, soupe a l'oignon, moules Provençales, steak frites, coq au vin, boeuf bourguignon, crème brûlée and tart au citron. At Cassis the addictive French bread was the real thing, and on Friday nights, a guitarist and singer filled the air with French ("La Vie en Rose") and American ("Blue Moon") songs.

If Cassis looks like it belongs on a side street of Paris' Left Bank there's a reason. Much of it came from France, including the bar, with its two soaring marble pillars, outsize antique mirrors, champagne foil art, old bottles and crocks on dining room shelves, large Champagne and liqueur posters and even the cruets on every table.

Although this narrow, hard-surfaced spot (etched glass partitions, bare tables and floors, brick columns) is not a place for a quiet, relaxed tête-à-tête, especially on weekends when the 52-seat storefront is under siege, it is the place for excellent, down-to-earth French food. From the least expensive item - a powerful, winey onion soup ($4) with the deep, rich flavor that comes from long, slow cooking in butter and oil - to one of the most expensive - the fall-from-the bone braised short ribs ($19) - the overwhelming majority of the appetizers and entrees were simple and superb.

Other noteworthy starters were a feathery frisée-lettuce salad ($6), studded with eggs and lardons, or smoky, bacon-like strips cut from pork bellies; plump, garlicky out-of-the-shell escargots ($6); a delicious, warm, caramelized onion tart ($7) filled with goat cheese, tomatoes, and black olives; a rarely encountered (out of Burgundy, the Dombes and Bresse) oeuf Meurette ($6), or eggs poached in a heady red wine reduction with bacon strips; moules Provençales ($7), mussels in a tomato, garlic and basil broth that begged to be sopped up with bread; warm melting Brie atop roasted beets, beet greens and a grape tomato ($6); and a small serving of Caesar salad ($6) that made a stylish statement wrapped in a crouton cylinder.

Price-conscious eaters should check out the roast chicken for two ($14 each) and the hamburger ($9). The chicken, brushed lightly with butter and basted frequently, arrived moist and soft with spinach, browned mashed potatoes, reeds of asparagus and a salad of fresh greens.

The towering sirloin burger jawbreaker yielded plenty of beefy flavor and was escorted by a thatch of thin, crisp French fries and an unannounced nest of salad (combined with the onion soup, it provided a hearty, tasty $13 meal). Those fries were also present in the steak frites ($18), good thin, grill-marked meat crowned by a patty of melting butter. Two jumbo hunks of oniony braised lamb shanks ($16) passed muster, but weren't noticeably superior to similar dishes elsewhere. A delicate, delectable fillet of sole Provençale ($18), baked in parchment with capers, olives, tomatoes and herbs, and a flaky salmon fillet ($17), enhanced by a rich horseradish sauce, were both light, lovely entrees.

Desserts... But a rich, refined vanilla crème brû lée and a banana semifreddo saved the day.

On weekends, get to Cassis early or late, or be prepared to wait unless your group is large. Reservations are taken only for six or more.