In the United States, "bistro" is a catch-all term for just about any restaurant with butcher paper on the tables.

Chef Wendi Mentink and principal owner Richard Righton show off some of the day's specials in the main dining room of Bidwell Street Bistro in Folsom.

But at Bidwell Street Bistro in Folsom, the manager, Richard J. Righton, and the chef, Wendi Mentink, know something of the history and aesthetics of the classic French bistro and are striving gamely to recapture that unaffected glory with spunk and élan.

Granted, the setting is decidedly Californian -- an open, airy, casually slick box at the far reaches of a suburban shopping plaza (the bistro actually faces Montrose Drive, not Bidwell).

The mood, however, has a relaxed, accepting European air, the service is snappy but warm, and the food runs to the hearty farm dishes that form the foundation of cuisine bourgeoise.

We don't know where Mentink ranked in her 1993 graduating class of the Leder Wolff Culinary Academy in Sacramento, but to judge by the skilled touch she brings to the likes of duck leg confit and beef Bourguignon, she must have been near the top.

After graduation she put in six years at Harrah's Lake Tahoe, working her way up to interim chef at the swanky Summit before returning to Sacramento and the kitchen of Ristorante Piatti.

In November, she joined Righton and investors Rick and Susie Cronan to open Bidwell Street Bistro in quarters previously occupied by the short-lived Chez Olivier.

Our first visit to Bidwell Street Bistro was purely a scouting mission. The place hadn't been generating the excited phone calls of other new restaurants, and at most we expected to come away with just a couple of paragraphs about another new casual but largely nondescript little joint in Folsom.

Instead, Bidwell Street Bistro turned out to be the most exciting and encouraging culinary discovery of the new year, for all sorts of reasons: the conscientious hands-on stewardship of Righton, a well-traveled, English-trained chef and butler whose résumé ranges from waiting on Princess Di at polo matches to managing the jazz club Elario's in La Jolla; the brief but enticing menu, mouth-watering in its devotion to classic French seasonal cooking; and the bargain prices, including a three-course prie-fixe dinner that at $21.95 is the best fine-dining buy in the region.

But Mentink's sensitive, caressing touch with such hearty winter dishes as French onion soup, sautéed sweetbreads and grilled New York steak is what mostly won us over. They're filling and richly flavored, yet also refreshingly light.

When it comes to the centerpiece of a traditional French country dish, she's all "Larousse Gastronomique," but with a wink and a grin she'll add to the edges a surprising personal touch not at all out of tone with the fidelity of the composition. With each dark, earthy, buttery escargot, for one, came a sweet, wrinkled clove of roasted garlic ($7.95). Finely diced, lightly cooked apples added notes of liltingly fruity sweetness to sautéed veal sweetbreads, which spilled over a square of puff pastry held in place with a swirl of mashed potato ($8.95). Caramelized sugars in both a hash of roasted acorn squash and an oniony red-wine sauce lightened the richness of the dark flesh and crisp skin of the duck leg confit ($13.95).

Her more contemporary dishes respect both the season and the French knack for packing taut flavors into fairly simple dishes. She complemented the delicate sweetness of goat cheese by crusting it with pistachio nuts, but also brought contrast into play with the earthiness of beets and the spice of arugula ($6.95). Not without risk, she surrounded a filet of roasted salmon with the same dark wine sauce she used with the duck leg confit, but it somehow worked with the crisp-edged fish ($12.95). And while a vegetarian entree of roasted acorn squash might sound like the last thing that even vegetarians would order, it was a wonder, its texture perfect, its flavors distinctive, its light mushroom broth tying it all together with earthy harmony ($8.95).

Slip-ups were nothing to keep anyone from continuing to eat -- the New York strip was grilled closer to rare than the requested medium rare, but it was finished with a fabulously herbal and creamy sauce béarnaise ($17.95), and the hot, garlicky, muscular cassoulet of white beans, sausage, lamb and duck was topped with a pretty but much too thick crown of bread crumbs ($12.95).

The seemingly tireless Mentink also makes all the desserts, which included an eggy, glassy vanilla-bean creme brulée that just could be the best in the area ($5.95); a very dark, very fruity, very rich tart tatin topped with a thick, buttery caramel sauce ($5.95); and a cheese plate with generous wedges of first-rate Roquefort, Port Salut and Brie ($6.95).

Service personnel, attired in white shirts, dark slacks and ties, invariably were engaging and solicitous, but pacing occasionally was erratic.

The young, largely Californian wine list is considerately arranged by style, with an intelligent range of regions, styles, prices and wines by the glass. With the next printing, all wines no doubt will be designated with vintages, given Righton's proud interest in the selection.

Done up in neutral earth tones, with freestanding tables topped with flowers and candles, large windows on two sides, a bar across the back, and contemporary music playing at a level conducive to animated conversation, Bidwell Street Bistro is spare yet comfortable.

A series of old photos showing the Eiffel Tower at various stages of construction isn't to be missed, along with a curious sign over the door to the kitchen -- "The Witch Is In."

"I'm not really a witch," says Mentink, explaining that Righton's father, who came over from England to help remodel the quarters, hung the sign as an affectionate keepsake before he returned home.

We'll take her at her word, nonetheless noting that she sure knows how to stir a kettle.