FROM LEFT: The chocolate pot de creme is divine; The Franklin Manhattan cocktail.
an afterthought or a concession to Americans.“ An IPA and a pilsner— that’ s all I got,” said the same server, without an air of regret.
As for the food, it’ s thoroughly French and handsomely presented. Plates are familiar, more often precious( like your grandmother’ s good china set), purposely mismatched and always layered. Softened butter is carefully lined against the edges of carved glass compotes, paired with baguettes in delicate baskets.
The seasonal menu— which changes over for fall— is focused in scope, with a half-dozen appetizers and eight main dishes. Portions are modest as well: A plate of mushroom croquettes($ 24) came as a Gobstopper-sized quartet. Shrimp, on the other hand, are colossal— though this indulgence comes at a steep price: Four shrimp with cocktail sauce costs $ 28. A special of( four) garlic butter shrimp with saffron aioli will cost you $ 37.
The trend continues through the entrees which can, in some instances, imbue a lovely preparation with palpable angst. Seabass in a citrus beurre blanc is a pristine plate in several ways. The fish is seared and seasoned adroitly; it’ s a pleasure to eat. But adorned with just a few florets of romanesco on top, it’ s a sparse dish. A hungry person, no doubt, would need a side dish— and there are several— but the seabass is $ 47 and most sides are $ 14.( One— a Gruyerelaced macaroni and cheese— is $ 22.)
So there is something paradoxical about The Franklin in that the surroundings are so lush, so unbridled, while the food often works by way of restraint. Duck confit($ 40)— one of the hallmarks of a bistro— is unctuous and rewarding but also gone too soon. The exception to this pattern is the roast chicken($ 37), which is as much about the copious sweet, chervil-infused pan juices and cognac mushrooms as it is about the crispy chicken. It’ s a well-rounded and
complete dish that leaves a diner nothing less than fully gratified.
Among the twinkling lights and gilded surfaces, it’ s the young staff that gives The Franklin an appreciative quirkiness. One server channeling Freddie Mercury announced that his favorite dessert was the rich and simple vanilla ice cream. It’ s an unexpected declaration for a place that’ s so fond of opulence, but it does speak to a shift that occurs when dessert comes out.
There are several selections, and all are worth getting. In fact, they manifest all that we love about a bistro and everything right about sweets: They’ re familiar but sumptuous and everything feels like a treat. Dense cheesecake($ 14) is studded with ginger, sitting on a thyme crust, and fruit crumble($ 22) is served nearly hot with vanilla ice cream spreading itself thin on top. But it’ s the pot de creme($ 14) that steals the show. It’ s a hefty portion that defines the texture of pudding: Half solid, half liquid, it’ s topped with a thick layer of tahini caramel that sits right in the middle of childhood and everything that comes after.
The real question is whether diners will pay $ 100 or more per person to sit fully in the lap of Parisian ardor. It’ s a gorgeous and all-consuming spot— a fully realized dream of culture and art. Groundswell Cafe has been doling that adoration out in $ 10 increments for some time but, add in bottles of French wine, dim lighting and a seat that is all yours for an evening, and it may be worth far more. 🆁
130 RHODE ISLAND MONTHLY I OCTOBER 2025