The Web site for Brenda’s French Soul Food (www.frenchsoulfood.com) greeted me with a photograph of creamy, buttery biscuits so mouthwatering that I almost licked the screen of my MacBook Pro laptop. A glance at the menu had the same effect – poboys, beignets, gumbo … what’s not to drool over? My friend and trusty assistant, Steve, and I had spent a long morning decorating the house for Christmas (well, Steve decorated mostly, while I admired his work and Jasmine tried to eat the ornaments), and those biscuits and beignets were practically smiling and blowing kisses from my lactop on the kitchen table. Impromptu, we headed out on a rainy Friday afternoon to find a taste of the Crescent City in the City by the Bay.

Located near the gritty corner of Polk and Eddy, Brenda’s is a diminutive, yet charming place with big windows facing the street, counter seating along one wall facing a long mirror where the specials are handwritten daily, and a view of the equally diminutive kitchen. There you’ll find chef-owner Brenda Buenviaje calmly turning out plates full of soul food to a hungry, enthusiastic crowd.

Buenviaje was born in New Orleans to a Filipino-Creole family who supported her artistic and culinary talents. After graduating from Louisiana State University with a BFA in painting and drawing, she followed her other love, cooking, to a string of noteworthy New Orleans restaurants, including Mike’s on the Avenue. Ten years ago, Buenviaje settled in the Bay Area, where she gained recognition as executive chef at the well-regarded Oritalia on Union Square, and at other eateries including Sumi in the Castro, downtown’s beloved Café Claude, and Delessio Market and Bakery. She could have rested on her laurels and let someone else pay the bills, but Buenviaje’s ambition and love of her native cuisine finally led her to open a place of her own.

Steve and I started with a bowl of chicken, sausage and okra gumbo ($3/$5.50) that was teeming with tender okra. A lot of West Coasters don’t care for okra because, in the wrong hands, it can become slimy; but its starring role in this flavorful, just-spicy-enough, not-too-thick potage should change some minds.

Baked Brie en croûte ($8) is just as wonderful as the name suggests – warm, gooey Brie baked in a pastry, and set atop a bed of mixed greens, fried shallots and spiced pecans tossed with red wine vinaigrette.

Steve’s shrimp poboy ($8.75) was a little fancier than you’ll find in the Big Easy (there was lettuce on it), but the ample, crunchy shrimp on a soft, toasted roll with tangy chipotle rémoulade is addicting. On another visit, we tried the version made with plump, briny oysters that were just the right size – not so big that they’re mushy, but big enough to be meaty and full of bright, mineraly flavor.  

I had the Sloppy Josephine ($7.50), a lighter take on the hamburger classic made with ground turkey. It was incredibly messy and a bit sweet for my taste, but who can really complain about saucy ground meat on a toasted bun? I wanted to wash it down with the house special sweet watermelon tea ($2.25), but they were out of it (I did try it on a subsequent visit, and if you like watermelon, you’ll love this refreshing tea, especially when the weather warms up).    

Dessert was a platter of puffy beignets ($4 to $6), an airy donut dusted with confectioner’s sugar and made popular in New Orleans, but Brenda puts her mark on them with a variety of fillings, including molten Ghirardelli chocolate, Granny Smith apples with cinnamon honey butter, and savory crawfish with scallions, cheddar and cayenne. “Die-hard traditionalists” can also get them plain. I like the fact that I didn’t have to choose just one or eat 16 to try them all – Brenda’s smartly offers a beignet “flight” that includes one of each.   

On another visit our photographer, Elizabeth, ordered what I am sure would be one of her “desert island” meals, the croque-monsieur ($8). The last time she had one of the decadent baked ham and Gruyère sandwiches smothered in béchamel was when Thomas Keller invited us to have lunch at his bistro, Bouchon, after a photo shoot with him in Yountville. As her eyes rolled back in her head, Liz asserted that Buenviaje’s was better than Keller’s and, after taking several more bites than I needed to figure it out, I agreed.
   

On two of my four visits, I tried the grillades and grits ($9.75), a traditional Creole dish usually made with pounded round steak braised in spicy Creole gravy served over a heaping helping of one of my desert island foods, grits. The tomato-based gravy was tasty, but the slices of beef cutlet on both visits were a tad tough. The grits, on the other hand, were luscious – creamy, buttery and perfect on a cold winter day.
   

Breakfast and weekend brunch at Brenda’s feature some items from the lunch menu as well as a variety of egg dishes, like a terrific special of corned beef hash that, fortunately, seems to be available often. My only complaint is that when it gets really busy, which is often, the eggs, particularly scrambled, can be inconsistent. The key to eggs is patience, or as I say, “Keep the flame low and cook ’em slow,” which is tough to do when you’re making them at home, never mind for a roomful of people. I like my scrambled eggs soft, but on one visit I forgot to mention it to the server, and my gulf shrimp and goat cheese omelet ($9), otherwise excellent, arrived with a crusty brown top. One of my dining companions said he actually preferred the crust, and like all styles of eggs, it’s definitely a matter of personal preference. The next time I requested them soft, and though the kitchen was just as busy, they were perfect – creamy, but cooked through and light as a beignet.
   

Service at Brenda’s has that old-time diner feel with an attentive, friendly wait-staff that knows the menu inside and out and seems really happy and proud to be there. On one visit, our waitress made everyone at the table feel at home, calling them “sweetie” with a rough-around-the-edges-heart-of-gold charm and wit that, unfortunately, you don’t find often at restaurants, even casual ones, anymore.
   

Buenviaje is a true talent; though I worry she could burn out with only a couple of line cooks assisting her. That’s probably why she doesn’t serve dinner (though I have a selfish dream about crispy fried chicken and mashed potatoes slathered in country gravy). Even with the hectic pace, I noted on every visit a certain sense of serenity that surrounds her as she presides over the stove. With lines out the door from the time she opens for breakfast until she serves her last late-afternoon lunch, it appears that following her own soul was a very smart move.
   

Oh, and those buttery biscuits that were practically smiling and blowing kisses from my Mactop screen? Let’s just say if they were a man they’d find me creepy-obsessive and about now be saying, “It’s not you, it’s me …”