Trekking down the Baja coast to a world-class French restaurant wasn’t my usual lunch outing. Our destination was Ensenada. And we were preserving our appetites for “The Sun King,” known otherwise as El Rey Sol, where six Mexican presidents have feasted since it was established in 1947.

“You’re gonna love this place,” said my friend Sandra, who grew up in Tijuana and recalled a time when the drive took more than three hours before the Scenic Toll Road was built. Big ocean views from several imposing altitudes kept my other friend and I locked in a wide-eyed stare during most of the 90-minute trip – the topography resembling a slice of Big Sur. At a beach stop we made along the way, I painfully resisted a cluster of vendors selling fresh tortillas and carnitas while reminding myself of the ironic reality that we had instead come to Mexico for vittles cloaked in puff pastry and Béarnaise sauce.

El Rey Sol sits advantageously on Ensenada’s main strip, which is lined with colorful architecture, sparkling clean sidewalks and plenty of tourist commotion. The atmosphere inside is crisp and parlorish. In fact, what began as a 10-table enterprise by Mexican-born Virginia Geffroy decades ago has since blossomed into a mini Versailles that seats 240 people.

So where’s the French connection here?

Geffroy married a Frenchman and trained at the Cordon Bleu School of Cooking in France while living abroad for 18 years. After returning to Mexico, she opened the restaurant and teamed with a local French chef to devise a menu that still includes their original recipes for Chicken Cordon Bleu, Duck with Orange Sauce and Shellfish Vol au Vent, to name a few. Since her death in 1989, Geffroy’s son, Jean Loup Bitterlin, has been running the business.

Among the culinary gems is the Shrimp Medallion, an entrée that involves several sweet shrimp from the Gulf of California molded with remarkable dexterity into the shape of a Danish pastry roll. The concoction somehow stayed pinned together after we dug in, perhaps by the viscosity of a buttery white-wine sauce that hid in the seams and tasted deliciously French.

Up three notches in richness was the Calamari Relleno stuffed with a variety of fresh seafood. It came bathed in a savory au gratin-paprika sauce that I felt upstaged the main ingredients (a common mishap in French restaurants). Yet a lucid and moderately priced Chardonnay by Calixa helped redirect my palate to the seafood.

Manager Pedro A. Martinez Redõn graciously paired our courses with several wines produced in the nearby Guadalupe Valley while revealing a keen knowledge about the latest and greatest grapes grown in the region. “There’s nearly 20 wineries here, and we represent all of them,” he assured us.

As more wine flowed, two dishes that would become my favorites took the stage. The house specialty, Duck with Three Olives, captured all the beauty and flavor of a Christmas dinner. Green, black and kalamata olives, as well as cherry tomatoes and apple skins flanked the succulent meat that was clearly cooked in its own juices. A puddle of flavor-packed brown sauce sitting underneath served as the ultimate complement.

A little tableside action ensued with the arrival of Chateaubriand. Our servers adhered firmly to French protocol by cutting the tenderloin laterally and also slow enough to evoke audible gawks. The beef was exceedingly supple and meshed intimately with five creamy sauces placed at our table. The thought of roadside tacos was now buried in a sea of crimson flesh and Hollandaise.

The menu also offers a limited selection of Mexican cuisine, which is necessary for when the fanny-packers bob into town each day aboard jumbo cruise liners. But quesadillas they won’t find. The kitchen instead bangs out finer regional fare such as Chicken Mole, Chicken Chipotle with brandy and Lobster Thermidor.

But the French influence remains prevalent and shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when meeting the dessert tray. The Chocolate Meringue was flavorful and helium-light. In both the Citrus Tart and Apricot Napoleon, the fruit came before the sugar. And anything sporting a pastry crust can easily pass muster in Europe.

After feeding in-the-know diners and dignitaries for more than 50 years, the “Sun King” still lights up the Baja culinary scene.