Valentine’s Day is about romance. And romance, as kitschy as it can be, may also be translated to indulgence. Kisses, chocolate, fondue, wine, dreamy weekend getaways. It’s about getting lost in the senses of life. And who loves indulgence better than the French? Their joy of life, or joie de vivre, is sacred, and their daily patterns circle around pleasure like a merry-go-round, always hitting the same marks: sitting, sipping, smoking, eating, loving. Like they say, “We don’t live to work; we work to live.”
So when I saw the terrace outside Little Frenchie — the round tables that held only the intimate conversations of a party of two, chatter filling the sidewalks — I was reminded of the French way of life and my summer spent in Paris. It wasn’t all a fantasy, like in the movies, but the motif was that pleasure should be prioritized. I sipped beer alongside Canal St.-Martin with friends, cooked dinner with roommates, strolled museums, ate gelato alongside the Seine and watched passersby whilst sitting at cafes.
So when I enjoyed a morning at Little Frenchie, a restaurant on Orange Avenue that won a Michelin Plate award in 2021, I hoped it would be a romantic one. An indulgent one. A real Parisian one.
After all, the decor echoed French bistros, with red accents brimming throughout the space, a wall of wine bottles teetering on finely finished wooden shelves, and those classic patterned chairs that, even if you’ve never been to Paris, remind you of Paris. A large photograph of the Eiffel Tower sat above a booth, and while that type of image is a bit overplayed — and maybe something a French person would scoff at — I still understood the idea and appreciated the scene-setting.
I enjoyed a French-style espresso. I plopped a sugar cube that balanced on the saucer and stirred it with my spoon. I’ve always loved the juxtaposition of a tiny cup hosting a sharp, robust drink like espresso.
The espresso was not your third-wave, citrusy extraction. Instead, it was one more authentic to France — burnt caramel notes, easier to sip than the contemporary, syrupy coffee extractions produced by the latest fancy-schmancy espresso machines. This one, traditional, bitter and more sippable, prepared my palate for what was to come.
After passing by the restaurant many times, it was hard not to notice the extravagant, Instagrammable poster of hot chocolate with two goblets of strawberries and cream, plus croissants on the side. The kind that lures you in visually, though I always wondered whether it was just a good photo op. The menu is extensive, French and California-inspired, according to the manager: quiche, croque monsieur, smoked salmon benedict, the classic American breakfast to name a few. But in the name of Valentine’s Day, I wanted sweet, sweet and sweet.
Wednesday, Feb. 4, 2026. Photo by Michelle Armas.
So, of course, I ordered the Valrhona chocolate and whipped Chantilly cream, adding a croissant and strawberries to complete the ensemble. After 10 to 15 minutes, it arrived with a server — hot chocolate in hand, just like in the picture. Fresh strawberries alongside a round, sugar-coated croissant created an artful composition of colors, textures and shapes.
The empty cup my server placed on the table minutes earlier foreshadowed the experiential pour. First, the server glided a taster of chocolate into the cup, then filled my croissant to the brim and set down the rest for me to decide where the next pour should go. And yes, there was still plenty more to pour.
I first sipped the rich chocolate on its own. And I think I had a full out-of-body experience. It was not just “sweet”; it was the most decadent chocolate I had ever tasted. The complexity of the flavors danced on my tongue: fruity, nutty, caramely. Valrhona chocolate, a French variety with a high cocoa butter content, qualifies as the gold standard for patisseries — and now I know why. Not only were the flavors complex, but the texture was like fine silk rolling across my taste buds. It made me wonder who these chocolate savants were and how I could get their number on speed dial.
There was something regal about it all, what gods and goddesses must sip for their ritualistic morning brew.
Next, I dipped my spoon into the cream, a style that originated in northern France and was eaten by royalty at the Château de Chantilly. And royal it is. Vanilla was whispered throughout the bite, speckled dark remnants of the bean apparent to the eye. Paired with the juicy strawberries, it made you want to feed them to someone with a kiss.
And the croissant slowly saturated with chocolate as I gawked over the other items. I tore it apart, chocolate dripping down my fingers. Any attempt at manners failed as flakes and crystal sugar fell everywhere. Surprisingly, the croissant wasn’t as buttery as I expected, but it was still enough to be doughy and flaky in all the right places — and the chocolate, of course, touched everything and turned it to gold.
I continued to eat, feeling smitten by all of it. Little Frenchie is at 1166 Orange Ave., Coronado, California 92118. It is open Monday through Thursday from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. and Friday through Sunday from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m.. to 10 p.m.
