Toasted Pheasant is very bistro

The English can have their village gastro-pubs, the Spanish their seaside tapas bars, the Italians those checked-clothed trattorias. For me, the French bistro is the ne plus ultra of neighborhood dining. There's something about the combination of classical culinary technique with weeknight comfort food that gets me salivating.

Problem is, the Bay area is a bleak environment for an avowed culinary Franco-phile. That's why I was happy to hear that Peter Leonavicius (rhymes with delicious) decided to pack up his knives, sell his tiny Le Bouchon out in Belleair Bluffs and set up shop in Carrollwood. The space he chose was home to a few failed fine-dining enterprises -- most recently Opium, Chateau France and a random steakhouse -- but Leonavicius has a different vision. His is a menu for the suburban fine-dining set that wants to buy the good life with lighter wallets.

That's very bistro.

Le Bouchon has been a mecca for anyone interested in bistro fare since it opened five years ago, which is one of the reasons Leonavicious abandoned it. "Bouchon was a great starting spot, but it was a tiny space," he explained. "We had an open kitchen and an open dish room, too." He noticed that many of his customers were making the drive from Tampa. He wanted to expand, so he followed them back to their neighborhood.

Any fan of Le Bouchon will be in familiar territory at Toasted Pheasant. It has the same standard French fare -- like steak frites and onion soup and duck confit -- along with a smattering of Italian-inspired dishes that suit Leonavicius' culinary philosophy. "I like Italian food; it's more dramatic and concentrated, while the French have finesse," he says. "I'm lucky being English because I'm able to absorb all these influences; I'm not tied into one by my culture."

Most of the starters stick to tradition, like rich, sweet onion soup ($5.95) topped by croutons and blistered Swiss cheese, or smoked salmon accompanied by capers and Leonavicius' homemade boursin cheese laced with dried herbs de Provence ($6). The homemade pate ($6.50) is rustic and rich, with an intriguing gamey character that comes from the livers of Toasted Pheasant's namesake bird. Better though, is its partner on the plate, a moist and elegant chicken galatine studded with pistachios. All of these dishes are straightforward -- and classic.

Pizza is the most obvious diversion on Toasted Pheasant's French bistro menu, thanks to an oven that was donated to Le Bouchon in its early days. "We had to find a use for it," said Leonavicius.

Once you get past the thin crust imbued with olive oil, though, most of the pies ($12.50) are more Southern French than Neapolitan. All are "sauced" with Leonavicius' boursin and sliced tomatoes, then topped by combinations like goat cheese, olives and anchovies or chicken and brie. The tomatoes melt into the boursin and the toppings are restrained enough to complement the chew and crackle of the crust.

Steak frites ($23) is perhaps the most iconic bistro dish, and here at Toasted Pheasant it's capable, if not exciting. The steak -- in this case a big hunk of ribeye -- could use a better crust and a touch more seasoning, and the fries aren't made in house. Better are duck legs slow-braised in their own fat ($18), the luscious meat shredding from the bone at a touch, or sautéed tile fish topped by an assertive red pepper salsa ($18.95).

Leonavicius never planned on putting pheasant on the menu, despite the name, but his wife insisted. He stuffs the birds' breasts with a mushroom mixture and roasts them (on one visit, a little too long), then pairs them with a petite filet and a sweet glaze of reduced Madeira ($24). He has a finer touch for braised lamb shank, the tender meat infused with a whiff of rosemary thanks to a subtle demi-glace ladled on top.

Desserts are a bust, from a lemon tart that puts a bright, citrusy cream on a thick crust that's pasty and undercooked to mousse that's dense and studded with unincorporated bits of crunchy chocolate.

It's a bistro, so there's food all day long. The big draw at lunch is light and airy crepes ($10.50) loaded with fresh seafood in a light sauce accented by saffron, or braised beef with rich mushroom and red wine reduction. Give the crepes a try if you thought they were more snack than meal. Lunch also offers sandwiches on hearty ciabatta and croissant, and salads topped by duck breast or tuna.

Leonavicius wanted to create a place where people could eat regularly. "Some people go out to eat because they have to," he explained. "Here, they can do that, but it's still an occasion; they can afford to get that pate and have two glasses of wine." He keeps almost all of the entrees below $20, and the wine list is short, sweet and extremely well priced. You can find an incredible generic white Bourgogne for just over $20 and a hearty Costieres De Nimes for $25, both sourced by an importer friend of Leonavicius.

All that said, a meal at Toasted Pheasant may be inexpensive, but it still isn't cheap. Leonavicious may not have created the kind of place you can eat at every day, like a real neighborhood joint, but his food is a taste of that life: comfortable, delicious and a better value than what you can get at most restaurants across Tampa.

That's very bistro.