In its 26-year history, A La Française has branched from its original location near the Sports Arena, and then operated from a single, long-term spot on Goldfinch Street in Mission Hills before moving last year into an historic brick building in the heart of Normal Heights. Five owners later, the “bakery” presents a fuller breakfast-lunch menu than ever before and still cranks out some of the airiest croissants you’ll find outside of France.

The double storefront allows for more wiggle room compared to its Mission Hills digs. A mural depicting the French countryside spans across an interior wall. And big front windows running along a sidewalk patio soak in the late-morning sunlight, at times making direct strikes on various tables.

Unlike the full-fledged bakery it was many years ago, the goodies filling the wooden shelves and display cases have mixed origins. Light, buttery croissants and assorted cookies are made in-house. Pastries come from The French Gourmet in Pacific Beach. And St. Tropez supplies the breads and rolls. But all of the items are baked fresh daily, as evidenced in a springy, pretzel-shaped brioche lined with lemony custard that we incorporated into an abundant midday meal.

From the crêpe menu, my companion rejoiced over a pair oozing with chicken, tarragon and a whitish mushroom sauce that I found excessive and goopy. Their casings, however, were thin and evenly cooked, with tender pieces of non-canned breast meat supported by a buoyant licorice-like flavor from the tarragon. Other crêpe fillings include bananas or strawberries, creamed spinach (Florentine), a ratatouille-style compound of veggies (Provençal) or a Southwest takeoff using green chillies, tomatoes, cheese and potatoes (Rajas con Queso).

A classic farmer’s-style paysanne omelette made with bacon and potatoes also turns up on the extensive breakfast menu. Here, the addition of caramelized onions imparted sweetness and depth, although the eggs were a tad dry and overly firm. I’m guessing they lacked that precious tablespoon of water scrambled in when the eggs were raw – a trusty kitchen trick that generates moisture as they cook.

French toast comes with hardy swirls of cinnamon in the bread, which is dredged in eggs and cream. Although they were slightly dense in texture, my companion thought the opposite, as he compared these golden slices to the weighty cinnamon bread he buys from Costco for making French toast at home.

Hopping to the lunch menu, we hit a couple of road bumps on our culinary jaunt through Française. The French dip (a sandwich with American roots) earns its merits here solely from a fresh and perfectly toasted baguette roll. Tucked inside were abnormally large and uniform slices of pressed roast beef, which tasted generic. A worthy French dip in my book uses shreds, shavings and chunks of roast that retain some of their natural juices. What drips out gets put into a bowl (the jus) for dipping. The jus that accompanied our sandwich was strangely sour and tomatoey, clearly not originating from the actual “beast.”

A cup of French onion soup sealed with melted Swiss was so-so. The broth tilted toward the salty side and the soup was crammed with too many bread cubes for our liking.

If you’re looking for a more direct route to the Mother Country, Le Croque Monsieur is your ticket. The open-faced sandwich features slices of lean ham, Swiss cheese and tomatoes, all pointed up with a little Béchamel sauce and served on an English muffin. Its richer counterpart, Le Croque Madame, is crowned with a sunny-side-up egg. There’s also salad niçoise, which reads like those that I’ve consumed overseas – an authentic spread of lettuces, green beans, boiled egg, potatoes, tuna and anchovies.

Various inclusions to our courses were red potato salad dressed in vinegar and herbs – a welcome change to the ho-hum, mayo-based versions served elsewhere. The cubed country potatoes that came with our omelet were as moist and puffy as the warm croissants. And corkscrew pasta salad (tossed in creamy Italian dressing, I’ll bet) was standard, American-hometown tasting.

We didn’t get around to sampling the cheese quiche, although my companion and I both recalled applauding it when the eatery operated in Mission Hills.

Laze over a cup of latte and a plate of Nutella crêpes or stuff yourself with chicken Cordon Bleu on a Kaiser roll. A La Française’s broad menu fits the scheme of a comfortable neighborhood eatery that is similar to a café on the Left Bank – well, that is until the party seated next to you sinks their choppers into an avocado-stuffed California omelet or a Philly beef sandwich.